2008 — 1 January: Tuesday, and welcome 2008!

I'm typing this entry just before I set off for the New Year's Eve party so I have at least a placeholder (a toe-hold, as it were) in the new year. I don't imagine anyone will be reading this during the festivities (and I won't be writing it, either!) But happy New Year to anyone browsing. Let's hope 2008 is a bit more benevolent. The last few months of 2007 were truly horrendous.

What else?

Once again, we shall have to wait and see.

Time is now 15:43 and I'm enjoying the briefest of pit stops at home before setting off on my Winchester Taxi-to-Verwood run in a few minutes. The party was wonderful — thank you again, Cathy — and my music1 selections went down surprisingly well, even when randomly shuffled by the iPod (which behaved impeccably once it was plugged back into its familiar cradle). The walk in the New Forest was rather longer than expected (not that we were ever entirely lost, you understand, more slightly misplaced) and at least I now know the paucity of the mapping data on my little sat nav unit for that particular, and beautiful, part of our local landscape. Nice to see you again, Denise, after so many years and to meet you for the first time, Lesley...

OK. Off I go again!

Phew!

Stuffed, I am, positively stuffed. Replete. And ready for beddy. I arrived in time to pick up Mike, Bryan and Andrew (who kindly stopped me from backing into a parked car — oops) and get them over to Verwood a few minutes early. A delightful gabfest and pheasant feast then ensued, hosted by Mike's mum and stepfather.2 I drank only one small glass of wine before the meal as I have no intention of falling foul of any breathalyser-wielding PC Plod.

I also got a preliminary report on the behaviour and characteristics of the combined Blu-Ray/HD DVD drive that Mike has now had an initial play with. The application software accompanying it is pretty crappy, it seems. And at least one Blu-ray title failed to behave. Plus, it takes many seconds to read and recognise what manner of disc it's being asked to play (a feature I'd seen reported on earlier domestic — as opposed to PC — drives). Anyway, now the merry trio of chums are back in Winchester and I'm at home catching up on the diary. There was some amusement expressed last night at the news that I'd already posted a partial entry for today, but I've got into the habit, and it still seems to work as a kind of therapy for me.

Junior texted his good wishes to me from Thailand; this was more than dear Mama managed in her terse but faintly desperate-sounding ansaphone message suggesting I should call her when I get in. At this hour, I don't doubt she'd ignore the phone and, besides, what on earth would I say?

  

Footnotes

1  There is very considerable overlap between Cathy's (and Simon's, of course) music tastes and mine. Even spookier are the overlaps in our book collections.
2  Mercifully, I remembered to bring along Roy's copy of "The Prophet" which struck me both as very insightful, comforting, and wise. I have suggested he research Rilke though, without a PC at home, he may find that a bit trickier than I did. I made some slight progress in selling him on the idea of equipping himself with this technology, I hope.