2010 — 26 January: Tuesday
Though I'd intended to watch the new season of Weeds I got sidetracked by the two BBC4 recordings about Brian Eno. I was delighted to catch brief glimpses of a rather younger Stafford Beer and (biographer) David Whittaker during the "Arena" special.1 But I'm too tired, and it's getting too late (00:37) for me to finish now.
Nothing seems to be dripping. The carpet is now dry, so I shall say g'night...
And g'morning...
... rather a grey one, too, at 08:30 or so. Hello, cuppa! Hang on a minute. What fresh madness is this?
Mind you, the calm tones of the BBC Radio 3 newsreader just told me it's predicted the UK will be shown to have emerged from recession2 in less than an hour from now when the latest batch of stats is released. So that must be OK, then. Time for breakfast, while I can still chew.
As I pick up episode 11 of the Pallisers, I'm amused to see the cast list giving the names of those in the 1974 TV production rather than those in this newer radio version:
Oops!
0.1% growth
I obviously haven't been doing my bit for the UK economy. Time (11:04) to go out and fix that. (Source.)
Let's see. Foodstuff (from Waitrose)? Check. Tiny pot of paint (from B&Q) to renew the house numbers on my two wheelie bins? Check. Numbers actually repainted? Check. Temporary book storage feasibility study including a free box, a free pen, cost estimates, and inspection of the storage warehouse (from ReadySteadyStore) just down the road (almost)? Check. Lunch? Not yet. Cuppa? Kettle has just boiled. It's 13:23 and I am — again — left in awe at Christa's organisational abilities. But I'll get there. Next fun task? Dentist.
But not before a spot of lunch and an overdue self-administered haircut. Among Christa's talents was her ability to cut my hair rather better than I manage. However, as the years continue to flow past I note a marked diminution in (as it were) the extent of the problem. Besides, I can't see what the results look like, and that's what my leather hat is for! It's 14:03 so I shall be able to catch an episode of Weeds before I set off again.
Crikey. No wonder I'm hungry — it's 18:27 already. There was a lovely clear moon up there a while back, but it was already just under freezing. I have a little walk arranged [that had a "tentatively" in front of it until a couple of minutes ago, but it's now 19:11 and there's just been a phone chat confirming] for tomorrow. It will give me a chance to try out the effect of cold air on my new, temporary filling. (I was right: the next step for this particular tooth [as initially hinted at a year ago] is a crown — my first, though Christa had two or three of the things, I believe.) Now I'm positively weak with hunger! Ever onward.
That's better. The good ol' simple standby: a coupled of boiled eggs with marmalade sandwiches. And now I can relax with a cuppa and equally good ol' Desmo Carrington. The dishes can wait a bit.3 [Pause] A gentle bit of pottering is highly therapeutic but (at 21:43) I think I'd better dish the dos before stuff congeals and has to be chiselled off. Besides, the kitchen is by far the best room in which to make another cuppa.
Oops. When Peter migrated my email over to Google Apps he apparently reset me from "dcm" to "david" at the usual org that is molehole. So it's entirely possible that I've been ending up in spam folders. As I say, "Oops". I've invited him to comment, but he's a busier chap than his Dad these days...