2009 — 7 November: Saturday
I'm aiming for an earlier night tonight as I'm drooping somewhat. My photo of Christa here is from June 1974, three months before she became "Mrs Mounce":
I watched the Fleetwood Mac "Rock family trees" programme and very much enjoyed it. I must admit I'd forgotten some of the names of the "casualties" over the years. And I still think "Green Manalishi" is my favourite Mac track. And the Peter Green lineup, of course.
Our next walk is currently set for Sunday, and I'm expecting lots of horrid rain today. But who cares? Besides, I have my next crockpot to stuff. It's nearly time to pick up my next copy of "Word" magazine, too. Good job the IBM pension showed up... G'night.
What a gloriously sunny...
... morning on which to be stuffing a crockpot. But first, a cuppa to finish waking me up. It's 09:44 and "Sounds of the 60s" is blasting away.
Fowl play?
Good ol' Grauniad. (Sauce.) It's noon — I seem to have left it a bit late for breakfast. Brunch it is, then.
And listening to the BBC's "Money Box" programme while brunching, I think I'm forced to conclude that as long as stupid people exist so there will be fraud that results in a steady transfer of money away from them. Good question: why have we now "spent" the entire proceeds from council tax on propping up just one High Street bank? Will the bank in question now be taking over my street lighting, cleaning, policing, etc.? (If not, then how are we funding these activities?) Oh, I get it. They've just printed more "money" or just added a few zeros on to the end of a cyberspatial account balance. Yet nobody's mentioning inflation...
It's amazing what you can find when you're looking for something else entirely.
The son still shines
Just (16:05) concluded an interesting chat with him. He worries about me, which is rather sweet, actually. Funnily enough, I don't worry about him as I recognise he has a good head on his shoulders and seems mostly pretty clear on what he wants and where he's going. If I'm honest, I think Christa and I did a good job there! Whether my generation has done such a good job on the state of the world he'll be living in is an entirely different question, of course, but there's nowt I can do about that.
Dammit! I'm ready for my crockpot meal slightly earlier than it is ready for me. Timing is everything in this Life. Specially in the kitchen. It's 17:36 and I'm starving!
Whiz bang
I note I was complaining about the fireworks exactly two years ago, too. Horrible things. If I had my druthers...
Crumbs! (I assumed this was a joke, but it's still in [web] print here.)