2008 — 23 May: Friday
Walkies later today, starting on foot from Winchester (I gather). Today's photo shows Christa in the Channel Islands,1 in (I'm pretty sure) 1979:
It was in the Spring, and we both found our new yellow jackets very useful against sudden showers. We kept them until very recently, actually, though they were made from something very like shower curtain material and tended to become somewhat sauna-like when worn. Crikey! I wonder what happened to that black bag? Still the same amazing smile, bless her! G'night!
Sun is shining
It's 08:15 and the traffic news is already grim — no change there, then. (I'm sure it was ever thus, but I literally tuned it out in the past, as a non-driver.)
Free markets (according to the "wisdom" of such non-Nobel ex-chemists as Attila the Hen and her cowboy actor friend across the puddle) were supposed to deliver the most efficient, cost-effective solutions when the sainted lady ordered the selling-off of a great tranche of the UK's infrastructure in the name of privatisation. They depend, for operation, on free exchange of information (which is exactly what traders at an individual level don't like, as it removes their inside "edge"). Today, in this attempt to explain why oil prices (which have doubled in a year) are so high, we see gems such as:
Alternatively, financial factors may be at work, such as a hedge fund having to sell a particular oil contract so it does not end up receiving a tanker-load of oil — or a trader deciding it would be fun to be the first to trade oil above $100 a barrel... The problem is, much fundamental information is not freely available.
But if you think this is bad, look back at 1974! A barrel of oil had just risen from $3 to over $11...
Almost ready...
... for the "off". Sandwiches are made, breakfast is going in, clothes will shortly be going on. It's 09:08 and the sun is still shining... This made me smile.
He's back
It's 16:50 and I've been back for an hour or more. A nice walk, with (because we were making pretty good time) a deliberate detour to the "Bridge" at Shawford for the pint that refreshes, and then back along the Itchen, covering the same ground as I did with Christa in March 2007. Weather stayed dry and sunny, but only occasionally too hot and humid. Spent some time afterwards comparing in more detail the different colour balances of my Canon and Mike's Nikon. Fitted in some needed foody shopping and a brief chat with Stephen Harvey (in Waitrose) and now merely need to gird my loins for tonight's "trivia" session. The final of the season, I gather. Now then, business first, or pleasure? Pleasure!
Pleasure
Eleven months ago, on my adventure to Figsbury ring, I managed to creep up on a Marbled White. Today, I captured this more nautical cousin:
And (a personal first for me!) this slow worm:
Business
Sadly, one of today's two snailmails (both for Christa) is the delivery of my vital new Waitrose credit card, which promptly hits an activation glitch. Christa was the principal cardholder, and I added myself to her account just weeks before she died. I have no idea (honest!) of her Internet access details. Only she can activate the new card and, of course, a) I should have 'fessed up to her death months ago, and b) the poor girl has no legal status anymore so I would no doubt be breaking all sorts of rules were I to pretend I was her in any case. Quickest way out of this impasse is to bang a copy of her death certificate and my own details (as executor) to their head orifice, and simultaneously apply for a completely new card in my own name. Shall be done, as they are far too convenient to do without.
Disbelief... dept.
I've just been reading the BBC's assessment of the design flaw in the Nimrod. This is a dreadful indictment. Dammit, I helped build several of the fuel pod tanks on these 26 years ago. (Mind you, I had left the industry before they fitted the extra cooling pack that seems to be at the heart of the problem.) There's also been a government boo-boo over estimates of the amount of money pensioners receive from private schemes. How embarrassing! Can you believe: "The ONS blamed a computer programming error".
And so, the final score?
It's 23:21 and I've recently returned from the final round of the IBM Trivia contest, and just scoffed the rest of this evening's meal. Our team came second tonight, and fifth in the overall contest. I joined the team, remember, back in January at about the half way stage, I guess. So, not too discreditable. I shall defer until tomorrow the tale of what else awaited me when I'd finished the walk.