Ask me what my job is...

... and I’ll tell you that I am re-using the bits of a broken-down car to make a working aeroplane.

Don’t take this as me wanting to insult anyone involved, as the bits that will not make the car go, can on their own be of pretty high quality. They can and they are.

That is what keeps me going.

On some days. On those days I tend to brush the rust off the almost obsolete parts, polish them to their original brightness and marvel at the potential they express.

One by one first, then put together in various clusters.

A windscreen wiper, a revived gear box, an exhaust pipe given a new life.

On some other days I eyeball my tasks and while aware of the futility of my action I pile the tarnished elements into groups, attempting to make some sense of the material I’m left to work with.

When our middle daughter was little she used to say “doing, doing” a lot, her answer to any question with regards to what she was up to.

In honour of the perpetually busy two year old, the concept of the ‘doing, doing’ mentality stuck with me forever.

By now it gained a less than cute undertone, for it implies to me that people are ‘working hard’ and getting nowhere.

Like a pile of car-parts.