2009 — 17 March: Tuesday
Another cold night. No TV this time, just steady scanning. The next picture of Christa shows her giving, as it were, as good as she got from a German sea cadet on the Gorch Fock on 25 April 2004 while it was moored in Southampton. Mike took this particular shot (but I know the date from the data attached to the ones I also took):
Christa on the "Gorch Fock", April 2004
G'night, at 00:10.
The last few minutes...
... of this morning's crockpottery preparation were carried out with a particularly large smile as I listened to a reading from Chris Mullin's diaries. The concept of rampant leylandii jostling for priority with a Concorde flight along the Thames amused me. So my first action at "playtime" (aka the breakfast break) has been to order a copy, and at the same time give in to a trial of just one of the available "Fascinating Aïda" CDs. I also found the preceding "Call yourself a feminist" discussion made a useful aural backdrop to the veggie slicing and dicing. In fact, I enjoyed the profile of Lord Palmerston, too. Good grief. Have I become a BBC Radio 4 Home Counties junkie?
So, what's next, Mrs Landingham? Not too happy with the ovarian cancer item,...
Afternoonish update
Well, there's a little birthday package on its snailmail way to my favourite cousins in Brum. I've also replaced the washing up bowl, replaced the (Harbour Lights! Tut, tut) slob around the house jogging pants with some of Matalan's1 finest £5-worth, treated myself to three new pairs of their socks for my walking boots and will also try out their "trainer" socks underneath these as an anti-blister solution. Now (at 15:16) it's time to whizz over to Mrs Brian to return Brian's forgotten "man bag".
Hotmail hates me
A couple of my correspondents use "Hotmail" when they email me. I am currently unable to reply directly to them...
550 DY-002 Mail rejected by Windows Live Hotmail for policy reasons. The likely cause is a compromised or virus infected server/personal computer.
The problem is actually a known, and black-listed, email spammer on a nearby server. We are being tarred with the same brush — hence our exodus to a new ISP. Sorry!
Nearly forgot. While I was in Jonathan's Arcade book shop a few hours ago I rather cheekily fast-skimmed through the CS Lewis booklet "A grief observed". I'd had my doubts, given his eventual return to his faith after his bereavement, but it had its moments. I'm sticking with Virginia Ironside (to whose book I do still return, quite often). I've also cleared some stuff out of the way at the side of the house to allow Mr Satellite Dish to get up close and personal to his LNBs on Thursday.
Spudyoulike
On a not-totally-unrelated theme, the lunchtime portion of microwaveable chips to accompany the nice healthy ham salad today came from a pack I found after I'd carefully removed the layer of ice that was stopping me from getting at the top left hand freezer drawer. Since I already know how long spuds keep in this house, I had no qualms when, on scraping off the ice, I could read "Best before: Oct 2007" on the pack. And they were crinkle cut; wonder where she bought them? Delicious.
It's now 19:35 and the inner man has been satiated on the latest crockpot. Yum. I'm just listening to a piece about Tom Driberg. Next task: cool the remnants. Meanwhile, thank you (Nick) for sending me this pictorial puzzler. Most interesting. (If you're looking for Wally, try #28.)