2008 — 27 May: Tuesday
Suddenly it's not merely tomorrow, it's 01:30, and I really should hit the sack. Plentiful supplies shopping looms later today as Mrs Hubbard's cupboard is spectacularly bare (or so Junior described it). And I need to get the JLP card sorted so they can resume bleeding me dry.
I spent almost all yesterday slaving over a hot scanner with a box of 35mm slides:
I assume dear Mama took this in her front garden of the house at Penn, near High Wycombe. In case there's any doubt, I'm the lucky chap on the left! (I still don't know what she saw in me but, whatever it was, it lasted for the rest of her life, thank goodness.)
R.I.P. Sydney Pollack
I still think the BBC webmaster should hire a proof reader, though:
It's 09:01, the promised storms appear to have bypassed this little patch of the Benighted Kingdom, the first cuppa is partially sunk, and the eyelids more or less unglued. Time for some feverish activity, alas. But first, breakfast, while I ponder the insight and wisdom on offer from our schools minister (Jim Knight) whom the Guardian reports as saying Every school has at least one incompetent teacher who should be helped to improve or "moved on". Are they, one wonders, products of our education system?
Laugh or cry?... dept.
George Monbiot has written an open letter to the boss in Saudi. Comments on this are, shall we say, divided? Further proof of the saying about the number of theories you get from economists, at least.
Self control
Back — briefly — from Phase One (the fridge is almost bulging) just in time to catch the lovely Laura Branigan1 track, note that the BBC proofreader has swung into action, grab a swift glass of orange juice, and head back down into town to do battle with the bureaucrats. (Phase Two.) Things were so much easier when my Best Girl was around to pitch in. <Sigh> Now, where did I file the death certificates? Hah! Had to wait until Manfred Mann's Earth Band "California" finished, too. Right, off we go again. (11:30)
It's now 14:52. Lunch has been lunched. It was a quick 'n' dirty "cooked breakfast" (I've discovered I resent throwing out bacon and eggs that have trickled past, or are in dangerous proximity to, their "Use by" dates). The processing of my new JLP card in town would have been a lot easier had I known my bank's sort code, but I wasn't going to get into an argument about setting up a direct debit so I simply handed over the death certificate, the Probate form, and proof of my identity and address. They want more information, it occurs to me, this time round than when they simply added me to Christa's card account eight months ago.
I also picked up, and briefly considered, four very cheap DVDs in Borders including the Cassavetes 1974 "Woman under the influence" for a mere £2-99 but (sensibly) returned them all to the bargain bin on my way back out. Spending money on "stuff" is an extremely temporary analgesic, I've realised. And I'm not exactly short of material to watch here at home. So I contented myself with zipping back along the motorway and then topping up the tank of go-juice. Christa, it's now 113p per litre — can you believe it?
Self-contained
A phone call from dear Mama livened up the place at about 17:10 — she called literally two minutes after I'd had a minor wobble, which slightly derailed her from her "normal" agenda. I'm sure she means well, but she is no substitute for Christa. Still, she says she thinks of me a lot (thinks: is that the same as thinks a lot of me?)
The evening meal was the last of the current crockpot, but I'll be ringing the changes for the next couple of days at least. Now, to my amazement, it's already 22:12 and I must say my respect for Photoshop just keeps growing. I particularly like the lighting effects found under Filter ==> Render ==> as they have helped me rescue several problematically dark slides by "cheating" the exposure in different parts of the image. If only I could work similar magic on either the grill (32 years old and counting) or the darker areas of my psyche...
Watch the skies!
Not just a phrase from a 1950s "B" movie... reading these reports reminded me that Christa and I once saw a UFO, but only in the sense that it was (or appeared to be) up in the sky, was flying around making (or apparently making) an odd noise, and we neither of us knew what it was. (We suspect it was a stag beetle.)