2009 — 15 November: Sunday
The last part of the PC-related tasks consisted of refitting my external USB sound card and hooking up its co-ax digital output to the spare input on my minidisc recorder. To my surprise it just worked (unlike the last n times I've tried this), and I've just spent an hour using the BBC's iPlayer to catch up with that James May "Meccano" programme. It's now 01:11, still seems to be raining, and is definitely time for tonight's picture of Christa:
She's glowing in the warm early-evening sunshine in Windsor Great Park in the summer of 1974 during our courtship (for want of a better term). Those were very happy times.
G'night.
I'm further surprised...
... this morning, at 09:07 or so, by the big bright thing up in the sky, blazing away. We're going to try for a walk, in fact. So, breakfast to load, lunch to pack, and away.
6.00 miles later...
... having dodged the rainy promise of a few black clouds in and around the roads of Hinton Ampner I'm back in time to kick back for a couple of hours before an evening meal and film1 (or two) over in Winchester. By the way — indeed, along the way — we were stalked at one point by this good-looking chap, who fluttered past and landed for a second photo-opportunity. (Click the pic for [large] full size):
Having spotted the quite well-camouflaged butterfly for the benefit of Mike's pixel apparatus, my eagle eyes also noticed that the tread on one of my front tyres (still the original) is now getting somewhat dubious. I never used to give this a thought as, not being the driver (merely the financier) I simply coughed up whenever Christa announced the need for new tyres, or other mechanical gubbins. But I'm told 20,000 miles is about what to expect from the Dunlops I have, and my current mileage is a little over 17,650. More expense. (Did I mention I've managed to rack up a four-year no-claims discount on my car insurance? Not bad for less than two years since my driving test!)
It's 15:29 and still almost sunny. Time for a cuppa while the washing machine gets to work.
The lady "specialist in developmental neurotoxicology and cancer epidemiology" who anonymously described her experiences during a 14-month stint as a prostitute blogging under the name "Belle de Jour"2 says:
I did have another job at one point, as a computer programmer, but I kept up with my other work because it was so much more enjoyable.
I guess she never worked on CICS then... £300 per hour? Priceless.
In the "twilight"...
... of my years, it seems I match a teenage female demographic. Most odd. (Source.) Ironically, I've read only one of the books on this (silly) list. It's by Stephenie Meyer, of course. But not a vampire in sight.