System overload

Adulting is exhausting me today. Too many emotions for one tiny shaven head. Ok - we have:

• Irritation that the work day has been spent doing lots of things with very little to show for it

• Anxiety that the to do list for tomorrow is even longer now 

• Relief that the end of financal year almost up 

• Happiness with brand new filing system (2 empty folders with pre-labelled dividers)

• Disbelief that child X has stumbled upon in-app purchases and spent £450 in last 2 days

• Gratitude towards bank who realised there was unusual activity before we did and blocked our card

• Anger that X bought pixels without authorisation

• Irritated that in-app purchase function wasn't disabled as I had believed it to be

• Disappointment that X would even try to buy pixels when you can play the game and get everything in it for free if you waste enough hours of your life playing it

• Fascination with gaming currency (gems) vs 'real' money (pounds sterling in this case) and how inter-changeable they both are when there's only ONE swipe between them

• Realisation that if I'm struggling with the above, how much more abstract a concept is this to a small/medium sized person who does not yet have a bank card

• Annoyed with X for not making the distinction anyway and clicking 'Confirm purchase'

• On 20 separate occasions

• Compassion at the level of shame and remorse he is currently demonstrating (he has been crying hot, silent tears and snot into my left thigh for the past hour and shows no signs of stopping)

• Anger with the nature of the world and the fact we even need money in the first place
• (This is not new- See here. And here)

• Anger at the Clash Royale people for making it so easy to spend large amounts of real money in a short period of time

• Admiration of the business model that makes large amounts of real money in a short period of time

• Shame that as an adult, I did not identify the in-app loophole and close it myself

• Annoyance at Apple who have taken all our money

• Slight stirrings of Hope that they might not keep it

• Growing excitement during online conversation with Apple support who want to investigate and see what they can do

• Immense relief at their decision to refund 80% of the bill
• Happy dance around living room

• Anticipation in telling X the good news

• Impatience that X has showered, gone to bed and cried himself to sleep so I can't tell him yet

• Overwhelming Love as I watch him sleep 

• Gratitude that we get to have him in our lives - despite the complications this can involve

• Empathy with the impulsive addicts who get sucked into shallow rewards and loose their homes, marriages or sanity because of lack of control. (Usually because of something far heftier than Clash Royale pixels, but the underlying principle is surely the same)

• Gratitude for the people in my life that have shown me grace when I needed it

• Delight that we have wine in the cupboard

Currency Exchange (part 2)

We were recently given a €500 note from a customer during a conference in Ireland. I didn't know such notes existed until I was holding one in my hand. Like notes of any currency that aren't in pounds sterling, I have a sense of unreality when handling them and even after mentally converting them into something I use and understand (£445 in this case #thankyoubrexit), they still feel strange and toy-like.

Anyway. We gave the customer his change and I emailed his receipt an hour or so later. By the end of the 3 day event, a small stash of €50's and €20's had joined the €500 note in a plastic wallet along with 3 £20 pound notes which we shouldn't technically have accepted, but arrived via our lovely client who pays us to work for her and who really needed her remaining Euros for beer.

Back in the UK a few days later I go into town with Manchild to bank the euros. We have sterling and euro accounts with a well known high street bank who shall remain nameless. The woman behind the glass screen is very pleasant. Yes of course you can pay euros into your euro account. I shall take them for you now.

It takes ages. Several people get served at the till next to us and leave. An alarm of some description goes off twice behind the glass screen. It's bearable for us, but deafening for the cashiers, judging by their faces. Then there's another problem with the magnetic lock on the bank's front door - it activates and locks the customers inside while a queue forms outside of people who can't get in. 'Are we hostages?' asks someone. No, thankfully not. The bank is not under seige. The branch manager appears and the alarm stops for the second time as the door is released. Great.

The branch manager then retreats through a locked door and reappears behind my cashier. Apparently my request requires her assistance. Another alarm sounds. The cashiers can't find the source and it's on OUR side of the glass this time, not theirs. I eventually walk up to a self deposit hatch and shut the lid which had been left slightly ajar by the last user. The alarm stops. Hurray! Says everyone in the queue. Do I want a job here? smiles the cashier. No, I just want you to bank my Euros so I can leave and get on with my day I think. Manchild wants a chip and pin card account and we were planning to make enquiries about it here. Do you trust these people to look after your money? I whisper. Absolutely not. He replies. They don't have control over their own front door.

OK. Now there's definitely a problem. The bank cannot accept my €500 note. It is not a forgery to their knowledge. There's nothing wrong with the note itself, but there's no button on their computer that they can click on to book it in and register it as received. Clicking the €100 button 5 times isn't allowed. They have to account for each individual note they take receipt of and as there's no button for my €500 note, they can't do anything with it. Sorry about that. They suggest another bank.

Irritating. I can't argue because if the branch manager doesn't know what's happened to the €500 button and accidentally made hostages of half a dozen people when no one had a firearm then I'm not sure shouting at anyone here will help. I grumpily thank the cashier after she checks there's nothing else she can help me with today, then leave while the door still opens.

I try an alternative bank which is equally unable to help, especially since I'm not even a customer of theirs. The Post Office won't exchange the note because they would be unable to sell it on. They suggest a travel agent who is likewise unable to take it as they would also struggle to sell it on. The bloke there is confused that our own bank can't help especially when we've gone to the trouble of opening a separate euro account to make these kinds of transactions possible. I am also confused and ring the Irish venue who hosted our meeting to ask if they routinely deal in €500 notes (just in case Google is lying) - and they do. This is reassuring. Then I ring the business helpline of the bank who shall remain nameless and am informed it's a national policy NOT to accept €500 notes. Ever. Even if you have a Euro account. No, I don't know why that is or when we made that decision. Sorry.

Aaaarghhhhh. What sort of stupid system is that? This explains the missing €500 button though. Some software engineer has been paid to disable it. Maybe they should make this clear to customers, I suggest to the helpline person? And maybe the bank staff who are happy to offer the service and bill us every month for using it should be aware of its limitations?

Anyway. We reverse the problem by making it not ours. We we send the note back to the customer and debit his account and (here's the clever bit) offset the change we have already given him at the registration desk against his flight expense which pretty much matches his claim, bar an additional €4 which is now my fee for fannying around all morning. Result.

But still annoying. And kind of fascinating. Having a note of currency that you are unable to pay into a bank account of that same currency kind of emphasizes that there's nothing intrinsically valuable about it in the first place. The only thing that makes money have value is that a bunch of people all got together and decided it did. Then it's a self fulfilling prophecy - in both directions. So if people get together and collectively decide that a particular note is no longer bankable, then so be it. (Although they could have told the rest of us).

Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or worse! - stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it’s safe from moth and rust and burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being. (Mat 6:19-21)

Yayyy! Go Jesus. Except stockpiling treasure in heaven is a rather abstract thing. Even for Christians who claim to believe in and live by this stuff. If we can't see the immediate short term effects of investing in a particular cause, then it's harder for us to get excited by it. The principle works for other things though, so the logic should be transferrable. We understand the value of an athlete avoiding pizza before a competition or putting up with morning sickness in order to grow a baby. We just need to think a bit longer term than a 25 year mortgage or (insert own example of longer term thinking here).

Don’t store up treasure for yourself in €500 notes because these ultimately can't be sold on. Didn't I mention it while I was there? All earthly kingdoms will crumble eventually so the Euro will inevitably follow the Roman Denarius, the Sudanese Dinar and the Franc into oblivion. Sorry about that. However my currency's performing really well so invest in that instead. Just take whatever money, time or skills you have and use them for things that straddle this world AND the next one. Grab those opportunities- they're everywhere if you look properly. And I don't need much to make it happen because my interest rates will blow your mind. I can take the smallest act of kindness or courage and multiply it beyond anything you thought possible because your thinking is small and I am big. I take your little trinkets of paper and metal or 1s and 0s on a computer screen and expand my kingdom one life at a time when you faithfully give to a cause bigger than your own immediate comfort. You make heaven touch earth in a million tiny ways when you choose to forgive someone who hurt you, hug your gobby teenager, write to your MP or buy a Big Issue. Tell your mates. My treasure holds its value indefinitely and I'm always looking out for new investors. 

It's all about the money, money, money

Christmas this year in our house was filled with the usual great stuff like switching off the alarm for 2 whole weeks, lots of nice food, a 6' blue spruce tree with accompanying real tree smell, carol services, seeing lots of friends and family, a birthday cake for Jesus on Christmas day, a New Year 's Eve party and spending many of the days in between playing the wii in our jammies.

Oh - and presents. We had those too. For the past few years, we've gradually received less toy & game based gifts and more cash & vouchers. Which is fantastic. The sales generally coincide with the realisation that after a week of non school uniform, everyone has less clothing that still fits them than we previously thought. Cue after Christmas Next sale.

This emerging tradition is enjoyed tolerated according to several factors and the Overall Retail Experience (ORE) can only be measured by considering them all:

How busy the store is
• Do you ever watch the news and despair about man's inhumanity to our fellow human beings? This should come as no surprise. Give 300 people access to a building containing half price clothing and homeware at 5am on Boxing Day and just stand back and watch the carnage. 

How long we spend there
• Closely related to point number one. The more people in a confined space, the longer the tail backs.

How big the queue is
• Again related to how many people are there and the manager's discretionary approach to having people queue up outside for too long and wander off before they even get in, vs having more people inside the store than is safe or pleasant resulting in the abandonment of clear carrier bags of half price treasures that didn't QUITE make it to the till.

How hungry everyone is
• McD's breakfast when we get out of here.... McD's breakfast when we get out of here.... McD's breakfast when we get out of here....

Finding items that fit
• If there's not a single thing that fits any of you, then this whole experience is an exercise in time wasting and Christmas joy erosion.

Having carefully considered the points above and wishing to maximise the ORE, we carefully hit the sales at 10am on Boxing Day halfway between where we were (Scotland) and where we are going (home), choosing not the biggest outlet in the area, but the one easiest to park at and which offers the bonus post shopping reward of brunch with some friends. Yay!

Results: Excellent. Best for 3 years or so. No early morning scrum and ORE pretty good. Me and Madi get a huge carrier bag of stuff between us that cost £3 more than the vouchers. Brunch and catch up with friends also excellent and everyone's happy.

Or so I thought. A few days later we are discussing the spending money situation when we realise there is a problem. Historically we've put half towards clothing purchases for the kids (aside from when they were teeny weeny and we could spend their money on whatever they happened to need at the time). But the last post Christmas clothes shop was a whole year ago and Madi has forgotten all about the 50/50 thing. And I was so caught up in the excitement of finding stuff we both liked and that actually fitted her that I didn't think to remind her. Now she is upset to discover she has £15 less than she thought she had.

Hmm. I try several approaches, including distraction, humour and reinforcing the choices she (unwittingly) made, but she's still not having it. I try another tact along the lines of don't feel bad because I love you very much, it was our choice to have 3 kids, and we wouldn't change ANYhing about our family even if we could, but do you know how much it costs to look after a baby until they are all grown up and can get a job? (She guesses £20,000 - probably the highest actual figure she can think of that doesn't sound like a made up thing, like a Million). It's actually almost £230,000 (Oh, that IS a lot...) I think on this occasion you could give me and dad your £15 and not be cross about it. And the next time we're shopping together I'll make it really mega clear to you what things are going to cost you in advance...? (Yes - that would be helpful. Please can you do that?). And you know E's new trainers and coat? He paid half towards those too - so isn't it fair to HIM that you pay for your half as well? (Yes - I suppose that IS fair, you're treating us all the same). Thank you. You're being very grown up about this.

Then I'm caught up in the guilt of bringing my (numerous) financial issues into her childhood. I've just congratulated a nine and a half year old for being an adult for goodness sake! Isn't that a bit twisted?! Ploughing time, affection, sweat and cold hard cash into a small person who has no means to support themselves is an act of pure love and commitment that can't and shouldn't ever be repaid.

No one ASKS to be born, do they?

And yet, part of the adult responsibility of raising a small person is to help them become a medium person and then eventually fully grown up person who understands cause and effect and budgeting and cashflow and pensions and overdrafts and mortgages and hedge funds and discrepancies in imperfect markets, isn't it...? Otherwise we end up a nation of affluenziacs who horrendously overspend then vehicularly slaughter innocent pedestrians after mounting the pavement in an uninsured car that we're not even licensed to drive. Or die prematurely after selling both kidneys to the Chinese because they now own everything anyway. Gosh I'm tired. And a little overwhelmed. One minute I'm celebrating the birth of the Saviour of the whole world and BAM now this. Sorry. Normal service will resume shortly. I hope.

(Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep)

Playing by the rules

Three or four times a year the kids get out the Monopoly board and we start a game that will involve all of us having dinner scrunched up at one end of the kitchen table for 3 evenings in a row, regular accusations of corruption against the banker, a few tears and at least one major argument. The game will end after a gradual slide into destitution as I slowly haemorrhage all my possessions to the eventual winner (which by the way, is never me).

It's interesting to see how the kids' personalities play out as the game progresses:

E: Rules are rules are rules. They are there for a reason. They make the game function. What's the point of playing it if you're going to show compassion? This is futile. It only prolongs the inevitable (and delays my rise to absolute power!! Mwahhhh haawhh haaaaaawhh...)

J: Lighten UP. Rules are a guide- a framework, if you will. It's people that are important. Playing the game should be fun. If you have to pay that massive bill then you'll loose Piccadilly and Coventry Street and be sad, so why not just pay me HALF the money and let me have some bubble gum bottles from your secret junk drawer instead? Oh - and if there's going to be an atmosphere about all this then I'll be in the garden playing football...

M: But I like the rules. If we aren't playing properly, then I won't play. Oh, unless you want to show me a little bit of leniency. Then that's OK- because I am the youngest.

The whole purpose of the game is to win, and to have a winner, everyone else must loose. Without an imbalance of power, there IS no game. Which is why I hate Monopoly. But because we play it so infrequently, my memory recovers well enough to convince me that it wasn't really that bad and we're teaching life skills like risk taking, conflict resolution, losing gracefully, blah blah blah, plus we need something to do on happy family no gadget Wednesdays that involves us all being in the same room of the house. Then the whole process repeats itself from the start and I realise once again: Yep - I really do hate this game.

There comes a point, no matter what chance card you pick or how the dice falls, the event horizon of bankruptcy has been crossed and there is no going back. From now on the future involves only Foodbank vouchers, zero hours contracts and eventually dying alone in a damp bedsit, perhaps covered in your own vomit.

The game starts off so fairly, doesn't it? Everyone starts off with the same amount of money.  The iron, dog and top hat all receive the same amount of money for passing GO. The same opportunities for success exist equally for all, yet the outcome is always a situation that is very unequal- although supposedly fun to play.

Does life imitate art or vice versa? Do I have issues with Monopoly or the values it stands for? Because the game has been going on for real since forever and we start playing as soon as we arrive - even if we'd rather play football in the garden or wander off to the toilet and forget to come back to the kitchen table or (me only) rearrange all the cupboards in the entire house then post the photos to Buzzfeed.

Except in the real game there is no level playing field anymore. There are no equal opportunities - start up capital sums vary and property portfolios are often predetermined at birth. There is no set amount for passing GO- each person receives a different amount that reflects their market value. Because some people are inherently more valuable than others, right?

Race, gender, income, education, background - all kinds of things influence the gameplay. Some people are naturally predisposed to wealth or power and the game belongs to the wealthy and powerful. Some people live their whole lives waiting to roll the dice. The article here explores what the Monopoly rules would look like if applied today in the USA alone. Factor in global wealth statistics and the game rules only get more skewed. It's so weird. Every one of us being born into a time and place and situation that we have NO control over. How is that fair?

And how do we play the game fairly now that we're here? Fulfilling the responsibilities of adulthood, enjoying whatever rewards genetics, IQ and geography bring and sharing our (sometimes limited) resources based on the priority of need - without being embittered by what what other people have or immobilised by guilt about what we have or frustrated by the apathy of those who could really make a difference if they wanted to.

It must be possible to live here yet not be tainted by the system. To be in the world but not conform to it. Jesus managed it. He spent his whole life doing so and was eventually killed for it as the system was SO unjust it couldn't cope with him. The culture and context changes, but the same game plays on. And while the rules are still enforced by the powerful, we can learn stuff from the way he approached the rules while he was here:

Jesus made religious people mad by refusing to condemn a woman to death who'd been caught in adultery, telling the crowd, 'Let him who has never sinned throw the first stone.' One by one they dropped their stones and left. The religious people liked their rules. They liked catching people out who had broken the rules. But they chose which rules to follow and which rules to ignore (where was the man she was caught with??) Jesus knew all about the rules but loved people more than being right. He knew all the rules the religious guys had broken too - and exposed their hypocrisy.
• Love people more than rules

One time his friends were challenged about paying taxes to Caesar. Jesus instructed them to fish in the nearby waters and the money would be found inside the mouth of a fish. And it was - they were given what they needed at the point where they needed it. Jesus didn't make a direct stand against the taxation system (he could have done) - but used the situation to teach about God's ability to provide.
• God is bigger than the rules

Another time he advised some people that 'If one of the occupying troops forces you to carry his pack for one mile, carry it two miles.' This sounds like caving in to power, but was actually an act of quiet rebellion. A first century Palestinian could be forced to carry a soldier's supplies for one mile- but making anyone carry the weight further than this was forbidden and resulted in disciplinary action. Jesus wasn't being submissive - he was showing people a way to flip the rules back onto the rule makers and exploit them to their advantage.
• Make a stand against unfair rules

He didn't really have a permanent residence. He travelled loads- always surrounded by people. Someone once declared he would follow Jesus anywhere, to which he replied 'Foxes have dens, the birds have nests, but I have nowhere to lie down and rest.' He didn't have much stuff because stuff wasn't that important to him.
• Using the rules to acquire lots of stuff is not a good use of time

The longest recorded conversation we know about is between him and a Samaritan woman. This is massive. Hanging out with a woman? With a dodgy history? Who belongs to a people group we hate? This was beyond shocking. It was unimaginable. Things like this were never done - ever. 'Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you' he said.
• A rule that makes you hate someone is not a good rule. Ignore it.

Hmmm. Would Jesus rather play Monopoly or football or organise a cupboard? (One of these activities -my favourite one- has no rules at all).

The un-American dream

We've been to Centre Parcs 3 or 4 times over the last decade with an assortment of friends and family members. The last time we went, several families booked the same week and we all managed to secure chalets within the same area, so a big group of us who all knew each other ended up being neighbours from Monday - Friday too. It was ace.

After unloading all our stuff and moving all vehicles to the designated car park, the new neighbourhood quickly became a carless playground / abandoned bike area and children milled around with a bit more freedom than they would otherwise have at home. It was probably like going back in time - children had a home but were welcome elsewhere, using the scrum of bikes and scooters to locate their mates. They came home to eat, but could pick up a snack at a friend's house too. Individually, families made plans for the day, but these were quite fluid and in between unpacking, food shopping and meeting up at the pool / gym / ice rink, children re-enacted a more free range lifestyle as described in those viral news feed cloggers usually titled I survived being a child of the 50s / 60s / 70s (which curiously never seem to mention the national treasure that was Jimmy Saville or child road death statistics in an age before booster seats were available, let alone compulsory).

Anyway.

The layout and inventory of each of our houses was exactly the same, and although decor did vary slightly, the overall appearance was fairly generic- the developers clearly shopped with the one supplier for all their finishing touches. (What a dream job for someone that would be- shopping for a living then playing house with the results...).

Again. Anyway.

As the week wore on I noticed that people were a bit less precious about their belongings in this fake temporary environment. Granted, on holiday you generally have less things in your life to be precious about, but even so- there was an increase in trust and /or a decrease in security awareness. Bikes were stacked up in racks outside communal areas, helmets clipped into handlebars. There were dozens of buggies outside the pool, babies noticeably absent but carrier bags stuffed underneath them. And people were far less likely to close their curtains at dusk, meaning anyone walking by could easily see into their living rooms.

This last thing especially intrigued me.
Q: Why did no one care?
A: Because variations between us had been suspended and everyone was pretty much the same.

There were 2 grades of accommodation - Woodland Lodge and Executive Suite. Only fellow holiday makers were passing by and given that each had exactly the same facilities at their own disposal, there was no reason to be looking in through someone else's open curtains. Even if an Executive Suiter took an accidental detour, they were only on their way home to a slightly bigger living room containing identical (or very, very similar) soft furnishings & furniture.

I enjoyed this week for many reasons: No work or school, dossing with people I love, swimming every day, no post to open, being able to walk everywhere we needed to be, not needing to be anywhere, actually... But something else was great too and I couldn't quite figure out what. At first I thought it was spending time with our neighbours who were already friends, but it was deeper than that. There was a commonality between us that week. We were all living in a similar way. It was unfamiliar but comforting. Stuff wasn't as important. I'm all for downgrading stuff. I have too much of it yet am caught up in a way of life that requires it. Clearing out and passing things on is like therapy for me. After a bad day, most people phone a friend, go to the gym or reach for the wine. Me? I clean out a cupboard. Or a friend's cupboard. Or in the days of our lets move house every year-a-thon, pack a box of possessions and label it with a sharpie.

I can see why Communism was considered a good thing. On paper it must have seemed the perfect solution to inequality and a fractured society. Unfortunately, as a collective, people don't do restraint very well and when we tried it, the whole thing became so extreme it travelled full circle and met Capitalism coming the other way. But everything in moderation, you know? Just a little bit of Communism. Would that have been so bad?

• What if the movement had ended with the idea that stuff doesn't define you?

• What if the party members had managed to screen out the power trippers and schizoids when they elected their leaders and the movement had remained pure and uncorrupted? (NB- Russell Brand is definitely onto something but likely falls into the whackjob category. Disappointing. Avoid).

• What if the remaining legacy was not oppression, corruption, enforced atheism and the dismantling of human rights, but the overwhelming acceptance that your car is a thing that gets you from A to B? End of.

• What if some were not created more equal than others but rather we were just created equal?

I have an un-American dream. It involves less stuff. And clean cupboards. And wine (in moderation).

Exchanges

The first time I try out any unfamiliar currency I always have this nagging doubt in the back of my brain like I'm about to be busted. Like someone's going to call me out on this and I'll have to admit that yes- here I was about to trade something real and tangible and useful for a bit of coloured paper. Sorry.

So far this hasn't happened, but what if (after the apocalypse) it stops working? Then I'll know I've been right all along and have just been playing the game along with everyone else pretending I understood why.*

*We have found and agreed upon the lowest common denominator that's a bit more compact and easier to transport that goats.

More more more

OK, HayDay is making me question identity and the nature of existence FAR more than is actually healthy or probably even sane to do so, but we are 3 weeks away from a big conference, we are moving house imminently, Keith isn't here, I'm pre-menstrual and there's no wine in the house. Oh and our next address could be one of 3 places - just to make life interesting. Hence I shall ramble on about pixels and other pretend stuff and not about how real life is scaring the pants off me.

I've told you about this game before but honestly- there's SO much mileage within the confines of this digital farming experience that my head is bursting just thinking about it.

I'll presume you've read the other blog and have looked the game up and are closet farmers yourselves, OK? And I'll then ask you to consider with me that the items available to buy in the game are either functional or decorative - yes? 

Goats = functional. They produce milk that can be made into goats cheese that can be made into feta pie that can be sold for many pretend coins. Goats have a job. Goats pull their weight. But goats are not pretty. Sorry, but they're just not.

Cats & dogs = decorative. As in real life, so in pretend farm world, these household pets offer no contribution at all to the day to day running of things. They simply wander around leaving you to do all the manual labour stuff alone, look miserable until fed, then without so much as a thank you swan off to sleep under a tree somewhere. Useless.

However some items offer a bit of both. Form and function. Hurray- we can have it all  with apple or cherry trees. Invest in raspberry or blackberry bushes and gain both attractive foliage and edible fruits. Jam making. Pie baking. Cherry lolly freezing. A whole range of possibilities open up while the overall appearance of your farm is improved as well. Win win.

Then we come to fencing / walling options. This is where my brain fizzes and I start asking Noodle (our real cat) for advice because everyone else has gone to bed.

These items are purely decorative- it says so on the fake shop screen. Chicken coups and cow fields have already got secure boundaries, so we don't need additional fencing to stop our animals wandering off and getting squished by the delivery lorry. 

I'm not into decorative, but I AM into organised, so I do have a bit of fencing around my edible plants and some more lining the driveway up to the farm house. Nothing fancy, just white picket fencing, like this:

Now, for slightly more fake money you can have hedging. I have some of this next to my orchard. Just because.

And for just a few fake pennies more you can invest in some stone walling. It will last longer and needs no maintenance. I have some of this on the main road leading off the screen. I bought it in a moment of weakness. I have no excuse. I'd just levelled up and it became available.

The choice of boundary options is only limited by budget and acreage. And it's the budget thing that causes me some concern. Because somehow, for some reason, the game makers saw fit to programme in a type of wall that is so outrageously extravagant and unnecessary that surely there has been some sort of mistake. My shop screen must have a glitch because at the foot of my 'pretty but useless' list of fake stuff for sale is THIS:

Yes, a GOLDEN wall. Made of yellow pixels. And retailing at the market price of 10,000 of your fake hard earned non existent coins.

Why Why WHY???

The ONLY reason anyone would buy this for their fake farm is to make it pretty. The golden wall does not sprout golden leaves or golden fruit. It's primary purpose is to stand there and sparkle and do sod all towards helping you fulfil the never-ending orders of consumable goods. 

Fencing is fencing. Fake golden wall or fake white picket fencing- it will do the same job for you.

So why buy it?

To show off, maybe? So you can enjoy the cha-ching of the purchase, place each section of it in pride of place within your kingdom and then LOOK at it? Then if you are lucky, some other (poorer) farmers may stumble upon your farm and gaze in wonder at it's sparklyness and envy you for it.

I'm trying to feel the envy. Honestly I am- because I think that's what they want. Instead I'm thinking Are you MAD??!

My brain won't let this go. Why were these purchases were made? And how can farmers such as the one below have possibly have accumulated so much wealth that they have been able to purchase too many golden wall sections than there is comfortably room for? 

I have analysed the possible explanations and offer the following explanations:

• The farmer is a child who has access to both an iPad and a parental apple account password (and hopefully the full knowledge and consent for both).

• The farmer is an child in an adult body who has access to both an iPad and more money than responsibility.

• The farmer is a nerd who has hacked into the mechanics behind the game and has unlocked the secret to infinite diamonds and coins. This person or persons unknown would be most suited to a career in cyber crime prevention and should probably contact the MOD. Or NASA.

• The farmer's best friend is fake friend and regular level 50 customer from the farm next door, has no other job aside from fake farming, and has nothing else to do all day except play HayDay and repeatedly buy the most expensive thing the game can offer in order to go to bed each night with a sense of achievement.

I hope it's the third one. And I hope they will be fake friends with me.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's pixels

It all began so innocently. 

Download HayDay from the app store Ethan said. 

It's free he said. 

I'm playing it and we can trade stuff! he said.

With so much going for it and half an hour before he went to bed I downloaded it, launched it and began to play.

The premise, similar to most sim games around now, is simple: 
1. Start with almost nothing (A small overgrown farm)
2. Get introduced to the gameplay by an ally who coaches you in the basic strategies of the game (in this case a scarecrow)
3. Get given responsibility (6 small squares of fertile land and a chicken coup) 
4. Receive frequent small rewards which increase your power very quickly but in incrementally tiny ways
5. Da-Dah! There's an evening of your life gone and Ethan should have been in bed an hour ago.

Oh. Dear. Me. This game is evil. It is sneakily designed to suck hours and hours of your life away. Forget Facebook / Twitter / Blogging. They have nothing on this. Spare time? That's a thing of the past. Event management? Screw that for a career- you are a FARMER now.

The responsibilities are just staggering. I'm not sure I'm emotionally ready for them. These chickens are dependant on me. They need me to feed them and collect eggs from them regularly or they may starve or become egg-bound and die.

And then I level up and get a cow field and the stakes are even higher. I'm a dairy farmer now as well (I've only been at this 10 minutes and harket me!) The cows are a bit needy as well though. They also require feeding. And milking. But then I am rewarded with milk as well as eggs, and the customers and coins pile in even faster so I level up and acquire a dairy. Now I can make cream and cheese and sell that as well as the milk and the eggs, so I get even more orders and more coins. 

Without hardly trying I level up again and get a bakery. Now I can produce loafs and corn bread and sell them as well as the eggs and milk and cream and cheese and the customers still keep calling. 

Each hen lays an egg 20 minutes after feeding: guaranteed. 

The cows are ready for milking an hour after feeding: guaranteed. 

And each time I sow seed on a tiny square of fertile soil, the land produces twice what was planted. I don't need to buy anything anymore. I'm living the good life and am totally self sufficient. God bless you mother nature!

The game makers have an additional strategy that comes into play about now.

6. Networking. 
We can visit each others farms. It's totally interactive. Trade and commerce be alive and well in these here parts. I've already been to Ethan's farm cause he showed me how to befriend people in the first place. His farm's a lot like mine, but he's arranged his dairy and his silo differently. He's also placed his fertile land in big long strips (I've done squares) but that's great. He's organising his space. Maybe that will spill over into real life one day and his room will become a bit tidier? He's really making his farm his own. Its sweet actually...

Another one of my friends is no one I know in real life but a computer generated regular customer of mine who owns a neighbouring farm. He is on level 50 (I'm on level 4). Maybe I should go and visit his farm? He's been over to me loads of times already, so it only seems neighbourly. 

But what's THIS? My loyal customer's level 50 farm has acres and acres of flat green land with none of the forest or rubble or swamp land that I am plagued with. And it is stuffed full of livestock and farmer gadgetry. He has two feed mills. And two fields of cows. And three chicken coups! He has pigs and goats and horses and a dog. His dairy and bakery are surrounded by about 10 other bits of industrial machinery that I had no idea existed a minute ago. (I wonder what they do??) His barn is bigger than mine, his Silo is taller than mine and the whole farm is so pretty. There are apple trees, cherry trees and row upon row of raspberry bushes, decorative shrubs and white picket fencing. Butterflies are hovering round pots and pots of neat orange and red flowers and there's a swinging garden bench next to a fountain overlooking the jetty at the edge of the fields. It's the most beautiful farm ever...

I want butterflies. A fountain and a bench wouldn't go amiss either (if I ever get the chance to sit down). And most of all I want my land to be free of swamps and rubble and all the other junk I was left to sort out. My neighbours farm is amazing and mine is rubbish. My little farm is struggling like most other other farms in this country because of the stupid EU and...  Arghhhhh is that the time? My poor cows will be lolling around in discomfort with udders a-swollen wondering where I've gone...

I mosey on back to my tiny level 4 farm to get on with milking and egg collecting and feeding and harvesting, idly wondering why my level 50 neighbour comes over to my farm to BUY eggs when he has 3 times as many chickens as me? Maybe he's just helping me out- we stick together and help our own, we farmers. Or maybe his chickens are post-menopausal and no longer lay eggs 20 minutes after feeding? Or maybe he just comes over to gloat and is actually plotting a take-over?

I survey my kingdom and sigh as I take in the sight of the overgrown wasteland behind my farmhouse. I need more TNT and shovels... Elusive items that appear only occasionally on harvesting, or in the newspaper. Items that can be bought with gaming diamonds which can be slowly earned by the laborious task of farming... or (for the impatient / richer farmer) purchased at the App store for anything between £1.49 and £69.99. 

That IS mental, right? Paying for pixels, figments of the game makers imagination, with actual real proper pounds sterling and pence. 

I am tempted though. 

Wow. Digital materialism.

The desire for more can be a tricky thing. 

I get sucked in just as much as the next person. Although strangely not in the traditional big house / nice car / exotic holiday kind of way. 

We may wander round Ikea for an hour and a half and only actually purchase 4 mugs and a bath mat, but I will have spent a small fortune on storage solutions in my head. 

I buy a bit too much food (which is highly ironic given my lack of enthusiasm for cooking anything) then end up wasting more than I like to admit. 

And I want pretty pixels for my fake farm.

When the kids were little and we needed one, I also had a bit of a thing for buggies. In 8 years and 3 children we got through a Mothercare travel system, a Bertini steerable stroller, a Phil & Ted's double buggy, 2 Maclaren XTs and a cheap £35 buggy from Argos which eventually collapsed with a child still in it. I can still talk animatedly and knowledgeably about the benefits of pneumatic tyres (lined with kevlar or slime) over hard plastic wheels and argue persuasively that it's always preferable to buy a 2nd hand Maclaren than a brand new £35 buggy from anywhere. Please don't get me started though. Keith's just glad he no longer looses me in the nursery aisle in ToysRus.

Where does this restless need for better and more come from? And how to resist? Cambridge theologian Harry Williams, has a theory:

It's natural for us to always want more- more love more money, more prestige, more everything... But our wanting more in fact goes deeper than anything our earthly environment can supply, and we misunderstand if we imagine we can be appeased by what this limited world can give us. For our desire is literally insatiable, which means it belongs to the order of infinity. Our wanting more is the way in which we clumsily express our intuition that we were made for what is endless and without bounds, that is, for God. (Consumer Detox, pg 98)

Isn't it weird that time, energy and wealth are expended every day on accumulating stuff that can't ever be owned in the real world? Striving towards the big house / nice car / exotic holiday is actually just as ridiculous as spending £69.99 on HayDay gaming diamonds. 

The transferrable value for any one of them is zilch. 

They offer NOTHING beyond the realm for which they were created. 

In the short term though- the the pretty pixels are cheaper.