Spreadsheet mania

Back when Tony first asked me to be a presenter for the Talking Newspaper, he also wondered whether I’d be his back-up for the schedule. Each quarter he prepares the roster for all the presenters and readers for the upcoming editions. He told me he used a whizz bang spreadsheet to plot it all. I said, sure, I love spreadsheets. Which I do.

I know that probably makes me sound a bit sad. The spreadsheet love thing. But the reason I managed to get a job in the UK (many years ago now) was because of my strangely all-encompassing knowledge of Excel and the power of columns and rows. While I wasn’t that keen on working at Global Beauty, it did get us started over here and I’ve been grateful for that.

And I do actually enjoy spreadsheets. Mirinda marvels at this because I am totally deficient when it comes to numbers. I am completely dyslexic in maths. I don’t know why but the simplest of numeracy problems escapes me. I maintain that this is why I love spreadsheets – they do the maths for you!

Anyway…for this reason I agreed to be Tony’s back-up. Today I went to his place to find out all about it.

Public footpath, north of Farnham

Tony lives about the same distance as we are from the centre of Farnham but in the opposite direction. I checked a map and there were a number of public footpaths, zigzagging with a haphazard beauty, across the fields to his street. Obviously I decided to follow these rather than tramp along a road that may or may not have a footpath of any kind.

The day was bright and warm, the walking easy. Down by the University (the lowest scoring in the country…or at least it was) which looks all modern and cool.

Farnham University of Creative Arts, entrance

Turn right at the end and head into the fields. I was completely alone; not a soul anywhere; the only sound apart from the insects, the distant thrum of a tractor in some unseen field. The hay had been harvested, the stubble on the ground looked like so many million marines buried up to their necks. No traffic, birds singing like lunatics. Vague splats of red daubed hither and thither where poppies had migrated. It was wonderful.

Path on the way to Tony's place

I managed to make good time to Tony’s place and we had a most productive time – an hour spent with a spreadsheet – before I bid him farewell.

He (and his wife) have a lovely house. High on a hill, overlooking Farnham, with a lovely big, mature garden. They are celebrating their golden wedding anniversary this week and are planning a big party under a marque in the back garden for 50 people! That just shows how big the garden is. For England, I mean. That’s not so big in Oz.

The walk home was just as lovely. Naturally I had my new camera with me as the weather was so kind. I snapped away like a demented paparazzi.

On the way home