Blueberry Buttercream

What’s in a picture? Even the most unremarkable images have some kind of story to tell, and I was thinking about that as I panicked about what I’d write here next. This one was taken during a coffee and cake meeting I had with our departing student ambassadors early last week. Admittedly, when I snapped it (and I had to make the most of that blueberry cake, because I’d certainly paid for it), I probably wanted nothing more than social media likes. The most cherished – and most meaningless – form of 21st Century validation. Looking back on it, though, it’s more than that, because it’s attached to memories. Senses. The sight of smiling and friendly faces, the sweet taste of that rich blueberry buttercream. I savoured it all at the time, and by taking the photo, I could continue to do so for a little bit longer.

What’s in a picture? In this case, it’s calmness. Contentment. Gratitude. Friendship. Winchester’s own unique buzz and vibe. That slight dash of smugness you feel when your colleagues are working but you aren’t. Apart from all that, of course, it’s a celebration of all the small things that have made me happy – most of all, my stomach. Other people my age go travelling and plaster it all over the Internet, and that’s great, even though it does make my life look a little dull in comparison. I do this instead, and I might not be at the Grand Canyon or Great Barrier Reef, but I’m still soaking up every aspect of everyday life. Nobody should take that for granted, should they?

Mason

High Speed Thrill Ride

I must apologise for my absence of late. I know I’ve said that on many occasions, but I either couldn’t find anything worth writing, or I wrote forced and uninspired lines in the literary equivalent of pulling teeth. Then Friday came along. At long last, I was able to have the supercar passenger experience Louis had bought me for Christmas at Dunsfold Aerodrome – the former home of Top Gear. In an instant, I had exactly the kind of experience that should rightly be preserved on Third Time Enabled, one that left me grinning from ear to ear (as these photos will attest).

I’m not going to bore the non-petrolheads amongst you with too many details, though. I just want the record to show that it was a lot of fun, even though each of the four laps around the track frightened the life out of me! The first two were in a Lamborghini Gallardo LP560, while the latter two were in a Ferrari F430. I chose both cars from a list of ten, and even though it was a tough choice at first glance, I realised I had to go for the shouty, passionate Italian stallions – needless to say, they didn’t disappoint. My driver was a professional racer, too, so he was giving it the beans to say the least, and what conversation we did have was largely drowned out by the screaming V10 and V8 behind us. Not that he was fazed, flicking both cars smoothly from left to right as though he was moving a PlayStation joystick. He was as cool as a cucumber, directly contrasting with me as I suppressed a number of loud expletives. What a thrill though. What a thrill. There’s one thing I won’t be forgetting in a hurry – casually being told to keep my head against the headrest as he put his foot down, and the force hit me in the chest. For him, it was another day at the office doing what he did best, but I was totally knocked for six. Money well spent, I think you’ll agree. Thank you Louis, it was worth the wait without a doubt!

Mason

As If It Were Yesterday

I am back within the sanctuary of my own four walls, after an excellent but very tiring weekend at the local festival I mentioned on Friday. It brought great music and a great atmosphere in equal measure, even if the weather was a touch on the windy side (although we couldn’t expect much better being exposed on a hilltop). Nothing was going to stop anyone from having a good time. Everyone seemed to be intoxicated in some way, either by the entertainment or copious amounts of alcohol – it wasn’t always easy to tell. Whatever the case, spirits were high, and this was a joy to see as I gradually explored the site. Alongside the food and drink on offer, there were independent stands selling numerous products of all shapes and sizes, and a couple of other tents hosting artists who weren’t on the main stage. Hordes of festival-goers left them bursting at the seams as they all jostled for position inside – those who only saw futility in such an exercise opted to peek in from the edges, listening patiently and hoping to catch at least one glimpse of the acts up front.

I spent a considerable amount of time as one of those people, a quiet but interested observer as I wove my way through the crowds. Some faces were those of strangers, some of firm friends and family, but others occupied a strange – and yet very welcome – space in between. I refer to the people I spoke to whom I had not seen in some time (years, in certain cases), but was delighted to see and pass time with again. To my surprise, several of them seemed pretty pleased to see me as well, rushing forward to say hello as if we had never been apart. One or two people even gave me hugs, which definitely weren’t expected! The conversation was perfectly normal – we updated each other on where we’d been, what we’d done and what we were looking forward to most – but I didn’t mind that at all. I liked the fact that the other person was comfortable enough to talk to me as though we were the closest of friends, even after so much time had passed between encounters. In one way, it also reassured me, since I do tend to worry about being a nuisance or inconvenience to others, that perhaps I’m not such a bad person to talk to after all. These people were therefore able to have a significant impact on both my weekend and my general outlook – it just goes to show that taking even five minutes out of your day to chat to someone really can go a long way. They may be surprised to read something so deep about my meeting them, but I thought it important that they should know what it meant, however fleeting the greeting.

Mason