Rest in peace, Cliff

I must admit that my 100th blip seemed to warrant being marked by at least some of my attention. In fact I had been aware of its imminence and had thought of many possible ideas to photograph, be they clever, silly or at least unusual. Dear Helena had as usual come up with great ideas and offered her help to me :o)) Barak Obama will not be measured by his first 100 days as President, only by a full term of hard work. But somehow the first 100 is seen as some sort of measure.

In the end, I went back to my beginning here, when I blipped my iPod Touch and me. I searched on it this morning in bed, using wiki, for '100' and the first thing I found was this list of alternatives, which seemed appropriate. Depending on who you are, and what language you engage with, will depend what symbols you will use for something that means the same to everyone.

Getting out of bed I saw the roof just outside our bedroom window. The layers of snow lying on it, which were originally formed from water vapour in the air, had already transformed back into liquid state, before then freezing in the shape of their motions. The down-pipe had a block of twisted ice in its mouth, the roof tiles had icicles hanging off their edges, the gutter itself was starting to fill up with the now warming water. It all seems transitory. As usual, Bomble joined me to see what I was doing and if it involved his food.

After taking this photo, I dressed and walked to town to get a lift from Kevin to the Crematorium in Gloucester, where Cliff Dressel's funeral service would be held. I only heard a couple of days ago that it would be today. By chance, I had an email yesterday from an old frisbee friend, Derek, asking if I would be attending, as Cliff was someone I played frisbee with about 30 years ago. We had met again as Stroud Town councillors last year, but I hadn't recognised him. In between, we had both changed our spots but probably not our essence.

At the funeral I was delighted to see Gavin and Vina, who have stayed as very dear friends, but who were even closer to Cliif. But my delight was tempered with the sadness.

Now I am home, I don't feel like being humorous or putting on a mask. I am sad, but I know that like the transforming water, I, or we, can be transformed, particularly with the help and support of those who love us and whom we can love.

I had no idea when I started my blip journal that I would be meeting new friends here, sharing stories and ideas with faceless others (mostly). I didn't expect to be amazed by other's skills, insights, humour or their take on the world. I hadn't expected the many kind contributions and their support for me and others. It has made me see anew, encouraged me to think about what I do and how I can try things differently.

There is a possibility for my transformation on a daily, hourly, even minute by minute basis. It may not always be possible, but it is available. By being a Blipper we can carry on in our parallel worlds, but together our contributions all add up to a record of where we have been and what we are prepared to reveal.

I love being a Blipper. So I want to offer many, many thanks to Joe, whose blip I recently came across by chance, and then realised that he had started all this. But he and we can't do without you and I carrying on chugging on down our roads and maybe changing the world a tiny bit.