2008 — 26 November: Wednesday
That minor breakage of my DTD is now repaired and, courtesy of a single new SSI, rolled out throughout the web site. I suspect no-one will spot any difference, but I knew it was wrong... So, to tonight's 21-year-old picture of Christa (and friends). It's one that Big Bro will instantly recall1 (both time and place):
G'night, at 00:40, as I've only just finished preparing my next crockpot. Yawn!
In the pink... dept.
To my reader who's worried his new jumper is pink (you know who you are!) my sister-in-law Lis has commented on the photo above — she clearly remembers the Pink Stripes... Compare and contrast:
Good! Now that that important epistemological question is settled I can turn my attention to an overdue morning cuppa. It's 10:03 and the overnight crockpottery session has been successful (I hope). But there's a distinct shortage of my preferred bread hereabouts, though, so I'm predicting a trip into Eastleigh shortly after breakfast. Am I, I wonder, the only one who finds the current pointless point-scoring by the "loyal"(?) opposition as emetic as that winter virus?
The Pla(y)ter's the thing
It's good to have a use. Chum Brian (who should retire soon!) would, he tells me, have missed the upcoming Alan Plater plays had I not mentioned them yesterday. Now all (all?!) I have to do is get my PC<>hi-fi interface sorted out once more (properly, this time) up here in the study and audio heaven will be complete. Have I the "Audacity", I wonder? My experiences with this software in the past have not been happy, but I largely suspect the integrated sound cards — hence the outboard USB "Creative" solution (I hope).
But first, having done the necessary shopping in Eastleigh, and even shovelled in the sort of healthy snack lunch that would have astonished and pleased Christa, I'm off for a spot of more frivolous stuff before the daylight is a thing of the past — it's 14:05...
Is this a slow blog? No; it's a diary! Let it record the fact that I'm back home at 16:12 and someone phoned, but couldn't be bothered to leave their name, at 14:35 or so. Loved the typo in that link, by the way! "Even by the usual scrupulousf standards of comparative philology, Tolkien was extraordinary..."
Damn!
I should have picked up my final batch of peppermint creams in the Woolies' "pic'n'mix" this morning, it seems. And our first DIY furniture came from MFI many years ago, too. This must be that "recession" thing that they don't like to talk about. Leaves quite a large gap in Eastleigh. And those are just the first two items on the 6 o'clock news. Time to up the blood sugar level.
What a nice chap!
Back in August I mentioned I was listening to (the late) Ian Richardson reading an abridgement of Shadowlands by writer and broadcaster Brian Sibley.2 (I've also bought the DVD of the 1993 film but not yet had the courage to watch it.) I have a couple of books by Brian and a recording of his programme "Quest for the Jabberwock" [not that that entitles me to make any contact with him!], but not Shadowlands. It occurred to me to drop him a note as I found the radio version both enjoyable and extremely moving. So, having found his delightful blog and his email address a couple of nights ago, I did so.
He was kind enough to tell me that he'd found my tribute to Christa very moving (high praise, coming from him, I assure you) and he signed off with a nice quote from Gandalf: "I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil." (Odd that that's my second mention of Tolkien in a single day.)
Today's frivolities
Part one arrived via Mr Postie, and consists of 97 bits of Jake Thackray:
Part two fell into my arms in Borders about an hour later:
Stephen Law was a Postie at one point, but is now a philosophy professor, or some such. The cover illustration irresistibly reminds me of the New Statesman competition entry won by Basil Ransome-Davis many years ago. You can find it here.
The Alan Plater play was superb, by the way. Little Dorrit remains engaging, and I note one of the worms in it has finally turned. I also note the weather remains rather cold. Ghastly time of year.