2009 — 27 March: Friday

It seems to be 00:48 or so already. My picture of Christa for tonight is one from our last day trip to Durlston almost exactly two years ago, when she took me on a "mystery" tour:

Christa at Durlston, March 2007

Happy days, heh? Indeed so. G'night.

Hello, Mr Parcel Force...

Remember when stuff used to say "Allow 28 days for delivery"? With the help of this Interweb malarkey that's now reduced to (in this morning's case) 18 hours. Crikey, I haven't even made the first cuppa. I shall not open the box until my next session of crockpot stuffing is finished... and it looks as if one or two of the intended veggies could do with a shave. It's 08:57 and the sun is definitely shining.

So, as my chum Brian satirically reminds me, my A/V system now lacks only the following! (Be aware the language is, erm, robust.)

It's 11:40 and a somewhat-delayed breakfast is going in as I type. We're finally enjoying one of those promised rain showers, too. The new toy really does do what it says on its cardboard box. It extracts the best standard definition TV picture I have yet seen from a DVD, upscales flawlessly, and sounds great on the CD young Mr Postie dropped off a few minutes ago, too:

CD

Though I think the choice of font lacks a certain something. I first heard (and, indeed, first heard of) The Decemberists on the "Radcliffe and Maconie" show a couple of days ago. Very nice too.

On writing well

Most people think they can write. Many people think they can write well. (They can't.) Here's a chap who can, and does. And an interestingly related item here.

And two of my heroes here. Goodness, it's 17 years since I was in Tampa.

Later

A quietly productive afternoon, to the accompaniment of the sound of rather a lot of rain. It's 17:24 and the crockpot is sending out olfactory signals. Trouble is, I had quite a large (and quite a late) lunch so I'm not yet remotely hungry. Still, that's the beauty of the crockpot approach to evening meals. They are a moveable feast.

But enjoyed, eventually, at 19:48 — very tasty, too. Right! Time to feast the eyes on a pixel or two.