Long. long ago - when I was only a young lad - before cars and planes and light bulbs and fridges and telephones and bacon sandwiches were invented, people would dread the approach of winter. Winter was a time when the sun rarely shone, when the crops rarely grew, and when it was far too cold for the chicken to lay their eggs. People would have to plan for a times of scarcity, a time of poverty, and a time of want by putting aside a little in the time of plenty in preparation for the lean and hungry times ahead. Which explains why I have been a little absent of late as I try and stock my digital larder.
Here I stand at the end of September contemplating the digital winter ahead. In a couple of weeks time the Good Lady Wife and myself will pack our bags and depart for warmer climes for the best part of a month. And whilst the Caribbean might have wall-to-wall sunshine, clear blue seas, and pina coladas, it is not so well endowed in relation to broadband. This is particularly true of the rather large boat which will be our home. Its' broadband connection is as narrow as a bigots' mind, as expensive as a gold filling, and as slow as a politician's apology.
So here I stand (OK, here I sit), pickling digital downloads, laying aside some of the plentiful fruits of my speedy WiFi in anticipation of the lean times ahead. Digital books hang from my Kindle Library like salted hams hanging from the pantry ceiling. MP3 tracks are stacked away in digital cans like sardines packed in brine. I am a farmer of dreams and I am preparing for the digital winter.