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This morning I've been trying to fix a broken camera. It's totally obsolete now, having so few of those modern megapixels everyone loves so much. But it does, in layman's parlance, have the virtue of being 'dinky'. It will slip into a pocket, and unlike a phone camera it's easy to use. You slide the lens cover open to turn it on; it starts up instantly (or used to); then you press the button. Easy. It's not very good quality, especially compared with my amazing Nikon D40 which knows far more about photography than I ever will. But then it's not fair to compare them, because the little Sony thing is for taking pictures when you wouldn't have room or the inclination to bring a 'proper' camera. Oh, and it's a very pretty blue. Of course none of that means anything when the thing won't work, so this morning I have - with trembling hands - been disassembling and trying to fix it. The trembling hands come from the fact that camera flashes work by gradually building up a high-voltage charge and then discharging it in a split second to power a little flash bulb. Twice this morning, I have instead discharged that multi-thousand volt charge into me. It's not dangerous because there's no current behind it, but it is acutely painful. And it also momentarily overrides all control over the affected limb causing you to involuntarily fling the camera you're delicately cradling across the room. Not sure whether I've fixed it. I lost my appetite for repairs after the second electrocution/tourette's like outburst. But I'm hopeful that I've reached some sort of accord with it. What was quite fun, though, was realising that there were pictures in its memory that I hadn't looked at since they were taken. Click either for a larger version. The first is of Christmas decorations on Oxford Street*. The second is of Easternmost London, looking back towards Canary Wharf, in the thin London snow. *If I was in a showy-offy mood, I'd Photoshop out the street lamp that's in the way. And maybe the passing bus. But, fortunately, there's still a part of my brain which recognises that there are more productive ways to spend my day.