2009 — 22 December: Tuesday
The concert by the Ukulele Orchestra of GB was completely delightful, even though only five of the eight players managed to get down the M3 to appear. A sixth actually showed up in time for a couple of numbers and the encore right at the end of their set. There's a nice review of their Proms 2009 "gig" here, by the way. I heard that Prom live, but am now also the proud owner of a DVD of the occasion and three of their CDs. That's the first time I've ever bought material at a live show, oddly. But it was brilliant. (Unlike the weather.)
And, best of all, I was delivered safely home (thank you, Brian and Liz) in good time to grab a bite of supper and watch the sublime first episode ("The Mango") of the fifth season of Seinfeld into the entertaining bargain. Excellent. (Mind you, it's just gone midnight and the sleet is still coming down by the bucket-load outside. Not good at all. The roads and pavements were horrifically slippery.)
G'night. (At 01:24 — yawn.)
Shades of the opening line of...
... The Day of the Triffids. (When a day that you happen to know is Wednesday1 starts off by sounding like Sunday, there is something seriously wrong somewhere.) An unlovely coating of ice has persuaded me that I shall be having an "at home" Christmas this year unless global warming kicks in very quickly. Sorry, dear Mama, but that's the way the Xmas cake looks like crumbling. It's 09:54 and only the lightness of the uniform grey cloud even hints at a sun up there somewhere.
Who could this be?
Had I not already watched it on its first broadcast2 it would be on my list for tonight.
Oops. Time for some breakfast. It's already 11:01 and there was a lovely bit of Orff playing. (Until Bob's phone call!)
We all fall down... dept.
Thirty years ago, I read William McNeill's classic Plagues and People. Today, I found a cheery map of disease origins and historical distributions (just for smallpox, leprosy, and malaria). Fascinating stuff. Here's a tiny segment from it:
Jonathan Corum gets in on a similar act here.
It's noon and I'm still eating my breakfast — that's the effect of several (welcome) phone calls. And the sun has finally appeared. Excellent.
Received wisdom
The following bit of "merry widower" theory arrived earlier today, sparked by one of my "Christmas 2009" emails yesterday:
... the key seems to be getting the right balance between the Yin/Yang of the past and the future. The past is for fond memories, not for lost pleasures; the future is for doing, not for regretting what might have been done.
Having thought about this for a while (when not browsing the BBC BASIC manual now that I've re-instated the latest build of Richard Russell's wonderful program on this PC) I've concluded that it is insightful; I'm also (inevitably) reminded of Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. And note that I haven't quoted any Frost for nearly two years :-)
The frost outside is malingering.
My, what fun
I'd been watching the porch thermometer like a hawk. As soon as the little splodge of alcohol squeezed up past the 0C mark I got the car out and skidded gently out on the supply trail. Very busy, quite slow, crowded car park, crowded shop, but I returned without damage and promptly claimed my nerve-steadying free cuppa over in the bungalow as I inspected their new TV. Now it's 17:55 and there's a bright sliver of moon illuminating the ice outside. Yuk. (Still, a much less traumatic expedition than the one Geoff told me about when he went up to Reading yesterday with his daughter. If I read correctly, he took 13 hours to get back to Winchester. Incredible.)
Later
Just watched the pilot episode of Season #1 of A town called Eureka — it showed up in today's post. Quirky, but quite enjoyable. It's 22:37 and feels mighty cold outside. Brrr.