2008 — 9 January: still wet? Wednesday
A placeholder. It's 00:35 but I'm falling asleep here. I shall share with you a delightful "PS" from an email from my ex-ICL friend Penny, however, unless she writes to say "Don't!" between now and whenever I wake up later... Oh, and while I remember, Lesley: No, I hadn't seen that Dilbert strip featuring the management mole, but it made me smile. Thanks!
PS I was reflecting recently how satisfying I find it to sort a table by several criteria. I have made myself a 2008 To Do list which I can sort by Completion date, Importance, Size (measured in hours), Type (eg Domestic, Organisation, Finance etc), and Location. In some cases location is where the work must be done. Eg "Seal bath" would be located in "Bathroom". In others it's a logical association. Eg. "Type minutes" would be associated with "Club". I can also sort by status, eg "Not started" (which is the most common category) though "Overdue" is catching up.
I know exactly what she means. In fact, I think I would only need the "Overdue" category. (I am still working on items from late 2006, and that's not counting the small cache of To Do lists that Christa left dotted around.)
And it's stopped raining — or my ears1 have been bludgeoned into insensitivity by the iPod. I wonder if it's waterproof.
Actually, as of 09:22 the sun appears to be shining. Nice change. And a Mozart horn concerto2 on BBC Radio 3. Time for the first cuppa!
I've got an "ology"... department
I owe my reader an apolly-ology. The wondrous web host service over in Texas went into full-on "castors up" mode for an hour or so but is now (12:17) back on the ether. Still, it gave me reason enough to nip down into Currys, Southampton for a couple of bits 'n' bobs, then along to HMV to permit myself precisely one CD:
- Cru by Seu Jorge — he of the David Bowie covers in The Life Aquatic — one very strange film
Can't help wondering what instrument a "Cavaquinho" is.
... thence to discover that the Alliance & Leicester paying-in machine down there is also castors up in some misplaced solidarity with my server, pick up some fresh milk along East Street on the way back to the expensively-parked car, and back to base for a cuppa (with fresh milk!) and a lunch-time bite before plotting my next nefarious caper(s). Widowerhood still sucks mightily, but this being able to drive around when and where I choose lark is a considerable compensation and does a lot to lift my spirits.
Watson! The game's afoot!
OK, the basic foodstuffs department is now almost bulging again so, ahead of tonight's audiovisual and roast pork extravaganza,3 it's time to whisk my main co-pilot off on a mystery tour. (Actually, we both now sport Garmin sat nav units so what are the chances of us both being led astray?) I'd say, ooh, about 9 in 10. Report to follow. Not too exciting, but a pot of tea for two in the Brambridge garden centre out-trumps a growing list of domestic trivia moving gently but relentlessly towards Penny's "Overdue" category. We're gentlemen of leisure (not to mention of a certain age) you know, and we have standards to maintain.
Now... what DVD shall I recommend for tonight?
Nail on the head... department
An observation by my dear friend Carol, in New York:
Your uncertainty about the future and realization of all the possibilities struck a note — the range is particularly wide in your case, though I think many have some of this reaction. It's early days and we are all advised not to make huge decisions after so wrenching a loss, but I am glad you are thinking about "next." I've only known a few persons whom I regarded as permanently "besotted" with their partners, and you and Christa were two of them. It's the greatest gift, but the payment is the greatest pain on loss.
Hair and bod now washed,4 and the duct tape residue has also finally been vanquished by the borrowed acetone. Heady stuff, that! Perhaps I won't add it to the laundry tonight as I leave the washing machine to do its washing thing while I'm out enjoying myself. But, as far as I could tell by the light from my LED torch, it left the underlying paint pretty pristine. Come the day, come the truth, no doubt.