2008 — 3 December: Wednesday

It's supposed to be wall-to-wall blue sky hereabouts later today — we shall see. If it is, I have an afternoon date for a little adventure. Meanwhile, I shall sign off tonight with another picture of Christa. It's from September 1975, on our delayed honeymoon in Cornwall:

September 1975

G'night. Well, it's 00:19 but I'm not sleepy just yet. Getting there at 01:08, however!

Unlaid plans... dept.

Alas, my co-adventurer has been forced into other plans by an empty ink cartridge in mid-spreadsheet. Still, it's already 10:34 and I haven't even finished breakfast, and I cannot further put off the next round of foody-type shopping any longer, plus the car needs a drink, so I expect I can occupy myself for a shining hour or so.

In more toothsome news, the new lump of composite filling has survived the night1 with nary a twinge — actually no twinges at any point.

Well, it may be the "Te Deum" but, Monsieur Berlioz, it sounds more like the "tedium". I'm outa here for a bit.

Radio 4 and my blood pressure...

... the more I listen, I suspect, the higher it goes. Not the BBC's fault; I'm just listening to routine tales of domestic plumbing and insulating skullduggery in "You and yours". As usual, the initial response to a complaint is "We've fallen far short of our normal standards in this case." Funny how a firm that gets guvmint grant-related business tends to quote higher than local, independent businesses.

What an unVista, Christa!

I've had it up to here, as they say, and I'm now expunging Vista completely from the one machine currently infested by it. Numerous tales of woe doubtless to follow. Must say, this looks like quite good fun, too. But first — it's 13:24 — a bite to eat. I wouldn't describe today as the "wall-to-wall blue" that was forecast by the BBC, but it's still sunny. Jolly cold, though. Only just above freezing, in fact.

Welcome to the Vista-less household. Say "hi" to its newest 64-bit Linux denizen. Time (15:12) to whip out for a cuppa (and to pick up a failed Mr Postie package drop) while a hundred or so patches download and fit themselves around the spare bits. This is, by the way, the first time Linux has correctly picked up my 24" screen resolution without any sign of hassle. (Ubuntu 8.10)

Postal goodness... dept.

Got a chance to show off my reverse parallel parking as I called in to pick up the undelivered parcel. The Neil Ardley "Harmony of the Spheres", in particular, is one I've been waiting for on CD since the earliest days of CDs. (I was hugely impressed by his earlier "Kaleidoscope of Rainbows" and recommend it highly.) I also gave in to the Flanders and Swann compilation languishing in my "added to basket" having only just (two days ago!) got the round tuit I needed to listen to the recording I made of the radio programme about Michael Flanders made by his daughter, and broadcast in June 2007 while I was otherwise engaged in worrying about Christa's ill-health.

Anyway, this afternoon's little haul of (mostly) audio treats, though (sadly) the Allan Sherman collection omits the song "Skin":

6 CDs

Mostly? There was also a timely little item for the bit between the ears.

Ubuntu book

I'm not, generally speaking, a fan of cute, cuddly kittens, let alone pictures2 of same. At least this one has his claws set to "scratch".

It's 19:41 and feels as if it might be a bit chilly outside. When we left our afternoon tea emporium, we both remarked on the likelihood of snow in the near future. I've listened to the two Ardley items, and will shortly pop down to catch up with Little Dorrit. Us retired chaps know how to have a good time, I can tell you.



1  As have I, so the super glue didn't leak! This is good, because Dr Fang yesterday outlined a couple of rather nastier-sounding alternative strategies for what's left of this particular molar, longer-term. He decided to go for a cheap and cheerful initial fix.
2  I was utterly appalled, when I first joined the IBM software lab in 1981, at the endless arrays of calendars featuring cute, cuddly kittens and these weren't merely confined to secretarial offices either. I can only assume some visual style edict had been issued from on high by the sort of gormless twerp who delights in imposing his (or her) lack of taste on the rest of us.