2009 — 22 June: Monday

Tonight's photo of Christa shows her in Old Windsor in late 1981. As here, she's keeping a watchful eye on a certain youngster who's playing just out of this "crop":


It's Life, Jim, but not as we know it... dept.

Yes, I'm fully aware of the non-overlap between the Star Trek universe and Heinlein's own, carefully-plotted, "Future History". As part of my rolling programme of regular vegetating I've been watching the deliciously naff Starship Troopers on Blu-ray. It's actually reasonably faithful1 to the spirit of Heinlein's Hugo-winning 1959 novel. On the left here is the cover of my much-read original 1967 UK paperback copy. Forty two years old — hell's teeth! On the right is the other great military SF novel, the 1974 Haldeman. My original copy of that fell by the wayside some years ago, but Junior independently discovered, and bought, his own copy which is still in his room...


Of course since these we've both discovered and greatly enjoyed the comic opera stuff by Lois McMaster Bujold featuring "Miles Vorkosigan", and the blatant rip-off of CS Forester's Horatio Hornblower that is David Weber's epic "Honor Harrington" series.


It's sunny

And it's Monday. Let the laughter begin. Don't miss the terrible twins. Or this amazing advice to chiropractors! Nor the wonderful Top 10 list here. Time (09:59) for brekkie, methinks. Then I can finish the amazing comments here. Amazing ¬= good, necessarily. And another attempt to pin down the butterfly that is humour. (With jokes.)

Ophelia Benson was also kind enough to invite me into Googlemail's clutches, many moons ago. She's a class act. More so, it seems clearly revealed to me here, (particularly in the associated comments, notice, Ian) than Ms Bunting.

Haven't left the house since Friday afternoon, so it's obviously time for an adventure. Where's that camera? Is it waterproof? And I've just had the "Twilight" trilogy delivered for evening consumption. Chores are going to hafta wait. Abyssinia.

Say "Hi" to my lunch date...

We adjourned from the tiny bit of beach on which we very nearly got stranded (and the tide was still coming in) to the "East End Arms". Thanks, Peter.


This was as near as I got to the purported otters and seals to be seen here:


We then moved on to the ice-cream vendor parked at Hatchet Pond (near Beaulieu) for our "pud", and after that made our way back up through the Forest. It's now 16:34 and has gone rather cloudy. No matter — beats being in the office any day. Time for another cuppa. Time to switch off "Beyond Belief" because, frankly, it's beyond belief.

Asides to Christa

I've been hacking away gently at bits of the jungle. I fear one of your rose bushes looks unlikely to make it. I've also thinned the vine (again) and some of the fern thicket near the back door (though I tend these days only to use the patio door — and, yes, I do keep brushing my shoes!) Stuff just keeps on growing out there. I also had a nice phone call from Junior, who's settling nicely into his new job, and who attended a music festival with his latest lady friend. Fingers crossed I guess.

"When an old cricketer leaves the crease"... good ol' Roy Harper. But now (at 21:59) the black bin is out, it's getting too dark for further safe hacking, and so it's back to book one of Twilight; just a few pages to go.



1  Though there are some major simplifications (of course) including the loss (for budget reasons) of the hi-tech exo-skeletal powered jump-suits. No-one could fault the technical quality of the careful video transfer, even if sounds do seem capable of traversing large stretches of vacuum instantaneously. Hollywood physics is almost invariably a whole different ball game.