2010 — 12 January: Tuesday
"Nurse Jackie" is turning into an excellent little series. I also very much enjoyed watching Mariella Frostrup with part 2 of the "Dear Diary" programme on BBC4. But now I'm cruising gently through midnight while a) trying to sort out a spot of HTML table tagging1 for Mike, and b) catching up on Guy Garvey's generally excellent "finest hour" slot from yesterday evening's BBC 6Music schedule.
Overall, the weather forecast doesn't look too bad, though it's going to be a slippery start. Snow spreading from the west, heh? I think my hatches will stay battened for a bit. But there are always (as Christa used to say) people worse off than us. She's right, as ever. Clever girl. G'night.
The words "hell" and "handcart"...
... are impossible to keep out of mind when reading this thoughtful piece. Not that I believe in the former, or can even remember seeing one of the latter. Source and snippet:
I remember a similar reaction on arriving at graduate school in England in the 1970s and seeing the sad physical remnants — dimly lit museums, once-stately homes, public buildings overdue for repair — from a time when the society had bigger dreams and more resources than it could muster in the here and now. A Chinese friend who flew for the first time from Beijing to New York phoned soon after landing to complain about the potholed, traffic-jammed taxi ride from JFK to Manhattan.
It's 07:23 and there were traces of a dawn chorus out there while I was making a cuppa. Bicycles made from bamboo, heh? Caloo calay! (I didn't know bamboo is native to all the continents, but it's only a variant of grass, is it not?) I now have a mental image of a panda riding a bike... Perhaps I'm not fully awake yet. And it now looks as if Wednesday will be the next "wake up to snow" morning. Since I have an early date with a dental hygienist on Thursday morning, methinks I should review the pedestrian route.
Just as well I did. The white blob on the suggested route is a hangover from my unsuccessful attempt to drag it from roads on to footpaths. The footpath I can use is in red, but conspicuously absent from the beta code of Google Maps. It's clearly there on the "satellite" view, of course. The fresh air will do me good.
He's gone!
Having set the laundry a-laundering, I've decided to flee the nest for a while. It's 11:28, just about 0C and rather chilly out there, but I could use a change of visual landscape for a while. Besides, I need a drop of go-juice.
He's back!
No sign of the next issue of "Word" magazine down in Soton, but at least the tank is full. I then popped over the road to enjoy a neighbourly chat and a cuppa with my main co-pilot as I quite fancied the sound of a voice other than my own (also for a change). After that, it was time to treat the inner man to a little something in the food line, before setting out on a second (and, I hope, more productive) expedition.2
When I got back, the total mileage on the Yaris stood at just over 18,400 (but it had 14 when delivered in October 2007). Then, just after I'd committed meal variant "A" to the thermal mercies of my microwave I heard a knock on the door, and am now in proud possession of three fresh duck eggs, courtesy of Stroph at #16. As I'm a complete duck egg virgin, I asked for advice. Stroph suggested they should be boiled for five and a half minutes but... "whatever you do, don't try to make a meringue with them!"
What's a meringue? (Actually I threw out a pack of those a few months ago when I stumbled across the ancient pack in a dusty corner of the kitchen hiding places. Doubtless while looking for something completely different. The kitchen scales, for example, which I can only assume have left the building.)
Earlier today, I sent out a scan of a neat little cartoon to some chums. I had to select the subset with some care. Here's a typical response:
Ahhh. Did you know if you suddenly burst out laughing in an open-plan office everyone looks at you ... Meanwhile proof that no matter how stupid you think people are, there are always a worrying number willing to prove you are an optimist: http://www.theregister.co.uk/2010/01/12/avatar_blues/ Lunch friday?
I think that's what's known as "a result". Right. Time (16:05) to hang up the washing and re-nuke my neglected cuppa.
Good god, Christa! Just look at these fat cats. And if you think it's hard for people to be any more stupid, try this. Or this.
Poor show!
It seems I can login to my web server (in Texas) and update my diary page (like "so") but am unable to browse the result as it sends me "502 Bad Gateway" messages. Pah! It's 21:13 (for the record).
Just (22:41) been out to sprinkle some salt on my driveway. The benefit is, doubtless, purely psychological. There's been about 0.5 cm of rather wet snow so far this evening.