It's true, statistically proven. The presence of a printer in your home reduces your life expectancy by 5.1%, give or take a centile. You can read all about it on Wikipedia. So, chuck them out. Dump them. Defenestrate them (I actually did that once - it was orgasmic). Set them on fire. Better yet, never buy them in the first place.
Anyway, here's why they kill you:
1. Inkjet printers don't. They don't print. They might once or twice, then they dry up and die or, worse, don't die but promise they will change, like a violent alcoholic partner. "Next time, no jam, I swear. Next time, I won't turn magenta on you. No, no, don't throw me out - next time, no messy smears; they weren't my fault - you provoked me. I know I cost a lot to keep around, but I'm worth it - you won't find fidelity like mine elsewhere. Let's move away, change to Mac - it'll be different, we'll work together. " Etc. Don't believe a word of it. They are …
Trying something out in some woods (Philipshill, not Great Birnam of course), near Chorleywood, today. Not quite there yet but I shall persevere. Whilst I got the timing - dusk - right, much else was wrong. For starters, the images lacked the emotional impact I'd hoped they'd have - getting a sense of woodishness from pictures, photographs, is very difficult - you can't, as it were, see the wood for the trees. Try it - honestly, it's difficult. Woods are an experience, not a picture. It was wonderful to be amongst the trees, to be out there, today, but my excitement didn't translate. It often doesn't of course. But, well, anyway, onward. More pictures will of course follow at some stage.