Another cycle.

I just remembered my second tricycle.

It was the red one which replaced the small blue one that I used to ride around the house dressed as the Lone Ranger, aged three.

I don't have any photos of my second tricycle.

I am fairly satisfied that it looked pretty much like this one on the left.

It had a boot at the back for the trip to the grocers'.

I seem to remember that the boot was big enough for a packet of cornflakes and a bag of potatoes.

I have vague memories of pedaling for miles.

Surely, it wasn't so far?

It was the first time that I was able to leave the confines of the Rectory garden.

Surely, I can't have been alone?

I don't remember anyone being with me, so taken up was I with my new found freedom.

I had quite forgotten about that red tricycle until now.

A few months later, it seemed rather childish, that tricycle.

Another cycle.

I can't remember the colour of the bicycle.

I remember going around the garden shakily, feeling total exhilaration at the speed, at the feeling of being on two wheels...

Then a catastrophe struck.

I remember distinctly crashing into a patch of nettles and brambles.

I was stung by my overconfidence, by my wounded pride.

It was too late.

There was no going back to the tricycle.

I had outgrown it.

It was consigned to memory.

There was nothing for it.

I would have to learn to keep my balance, to steer correctly and to give hand-signals on the open road.

Another cycle.

"So are you bringing your poems to Reclaim Hosting?" 

I was a little surprised that my 'secret' dabbling in WordPress and my 'secret' domain had been uncovered by Jim Groom.

On the other hand, I felt reassured to be messing around in a sandbox with people that I was familiar with.

I was not alone with the buckets and spades.

Another sandbox.

I have been working on a website for the CLAVIER network.

After exhausting all other "solutions" (excuses),  I resigned myself to figuring out how to set up a domain, how to make a blog look like a website and vice versa.

Another tricycle.

I spent a long time trying to avoid it.

Wouldn't a Google site do it?

Wouldn't a Blogger blog do it?

Nope, they wouldn't do it.

Wouldn't someone else do it?

Nope they wouldn't do it.

I tried to find a hosting solution at the university.

Nope, that wouldn't do it.

I tried to find a hosting solution in France.

Nope, I didn't know those guys, that wouldn't do it.

I need real support.

Another cycle.

I blame the people at Connected Courses.

I was so happy with my red tricycle.

It took me as far as the shops.

I am way off my beaten track now...

I tweeted a message to Maha. 

"Help!"

She tweeted a message to Reclaim Hosting.

I tweeted a message to Cogdog.

"Help!"

I tweeted a message to Cogdog.

"Help!"

Another cycle.

I studied the CLMOOC website.
I studied the CCourses website.
I studied the Virtually Connecting Website.
I studied Cogdog's website.
I studied websites...

I know pretty much nothing about bicycle maintenance...er code.

I cheated and found an application: "WordPress Theme Detector"

I started to understand a bit more about Themes and Plug ins.

I read the posts on setting up a blog hub.

I looked again at the posts on setting up an Activity Bank.

I studied the Youshow: Unit 5 found on Cogdog's website.

Another cycle.

I signed up to Reclaim Hosting.

I was so shocked how easy it was to create a domain that I did it three times, just because I could.

The euphoria was short-clicked.

Ugh, CPanel.
Ugh, MYSQYL.

Those sounded like nettles and brambles.

I rode shakily around them.

I found a Theme.

I was on familiar territory.

It was rather like Blogger.

I found pages.

It was rather like Google Sites.

I started getting adventurous.

"Oooherrrr....fuck."

I crashed into the brambles and the nettles.

What TF is a sticky post?
What TF is a sticky header?
What TF is a featured picture?

I was beginning to miss the red tricycle.

I could almost hear my brother laughing at my desperate crash.

Oh the shame...

Another cycle.

I have resigned myself.

It's too late now.

In a few months, I will have forgotten about the trip to the shops for the cornflakes.

I will be going further afield.

I will be roaming new domains.

Now what shall it be?

Sensor63.WTF
Touchesofsense.com
Tachesdessens.fr

Another cycle...

Another crash in the brambles and the nettles...

Road rage

It was that bloody open web ideologist (#blideo) Steve Wheeler who got me going. 

He stole a video I posted on Youtube a few years back.

http://youtu.be/hIEIU9S30l8

Others of his ideological bent took up on this #blideo blogging challenge:  

http://steve-wheeler.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/blideo-new-blogging-challenge.html

When I saw the pieces posted by some David Hopkins guy here 

http://www.dontwasteyourtime.co.uk/elearning/hang-on-a-minute-lads-ive-got-a-great-idea-blideo/ 

and a Sue Beckingham here 

http://www.suebeckingham.com/2015/08/building-confidence-takes-time-learning.html 

I had a shock, I can tell you!

That was my video of a wildlife security breach they were going on about. 

Well folks, here's the really story of that elk video: 

I was hanging around in my Fence Security truck muttering "bloody herds".

I was filming that video for ages while I waited to see if the fence would withstand a single elk attack.

Nope, not even a single elk on its own was stopped!

Time-travel a few years later...there was my elk video.

Ha ha bloody ha!

Those bloggers were going on about elk emancipation, I thought to myself: 

"Have they no thought for guys like us?"

I have been personally responsible for interstate highway security for the past 15 years.  

Each year well-built American passengers cars are destroyed by invasive wildlife. 

Talk of wildlife protection! 

It's highway maintenance guys like us who need protecting!

Now even puny elk-calves are jumping through our VLE (very large elk) fences. 

Fence maintenance is becoming impossible. 

The trucks and the four by fours won't be  able to tell the highway from the wild. 

There'll be bloody transport chaos!!

Just let them all wander all over the place. 

They'll see! 

They'll regret our VLE's. 

I'm retiring to wander the wild as a bloody bounty hunting cowboy. 

Adios pardners. 

PS. In the wilds elk and hikers and drivers get mauled by mountain lion.