2009 — 10 December: Thursday
Just time for a placeholder. It's gone midnight and I'm quite sleepy. We have made plans for a walk later today, but not in too much mud, I hope.
G'night.
It's sunny!
I'm predicting a walk. Moist, cool, and sunny works for us. It's 09:18 and breakfast is being loaded as I type.
Oh dear:
Sensitive information in the documents had been redacted out, but only by superimposing a black box over the text that could easily be removed using software widely available on the internet.
Just out of interest: can software be narrowly available once it has been (as it were) let out of the box? (I remember one occasion when I was flattered to discover that IBM's Java downloads from Hursley had been picked up and mirrored on an FTP site in Russia.)
Vanity, vanity... dept.
Having mentioned the "vanity" cards that producer Chuck Lorre posts for one and a half seconds in the end credits of his shows, I met my first "censored" one last night. It also said "You know where to look", so I've just looked. The current one is #270.
Poop!
For a day that started so well, spending the afternoon in a dentist's chair is really not my idea of fun. But that's where I'm now heading, dammit. Just don't talk to me about Intelligent Design or the Divine Plan that incorporates toothache along the Path to Wisdom...
Sent on my way with a pack of antibiotics to try to clobber the incipient abscess and — oh, the shame — my first ever date with a hygienist early in January. The discomfort spiked earlier this afternoon during a potentially nasty lane clash at the entrance to the motorway by the "Tesco" roundabout. Either my adrenalin surge or, more likely, my blood pressure surge reminded me all too clearly of my mortality. Mike was kind enough to suggest to me that his advice on the lane I should have been in was sub-optimal, but you can't blame the chap who isn't driving, can you?
It was a very pleasant walk in the vicinity of Itchen Abbas, incidentally, and in gorgeous sunshine.