2010 — 30 January: Saturday
The rest of the evening's entertainment, after watching the snow and frost shown on the weather forecast, was Season #5 of Weeds which on the evidence so far has strayed a long way from its initial comedic roots. (A bit like the Chilcot inquiry, I guess.) Still good stuff, though. I also confirmed that the tune that's been nagging away at me did indeed come from that 1984 film Starman.1
I shall have to press carefully on my Toyota Yaris accelerator pedal, it seems. <Sigh> G'night...
Sunny, but chilly
It's 08:13, and a bright thing very low on the horizon is yielding very little warmth from out of a cloudless sky. I shall have to compensate with a cuppa. Quite a frost out there, if the state of my neighbours' car windscreens is any guide. Brrr. Minus 3C as of 08:27.
This is an equally chilly report. Of course, predictably the Guardian lays the blame at the feet of the saintly Mrs T — did you see her foundation has just released details of her election victory diet from April 1974? (Raw meat?2 No, I'm only joking.)
Sea changes
As I munch my brekkie, and browse what's laughingly called the "news", I'll share the thought I just shared with a chum regarding the long-term attractiveness of the UK as the place in which to grow old disgracefully. In his case, one of his sons has noted the availability of a bungalow just a few doors away from their own (overseas) house:
I don't much care for the way UK society seems to be headed, and could (I suppose) contemplate NZ though I suspect I might well go mad down there. It would be an enormous upheaval out of your comfort zone, but those are said to be good for us from time to time. Says he who underwent just such an upheaval a couple of years ago, of course.
I don't know about the "good for us" bit, but I can certainly attest to the lingering after-effects :-) Recall the comment from AC Grayling about learning again how to navigate. Meanwhile, Brian Matthew has just played "Young girl" — that takes me back to my grammar school days of 1968 and a young lady called June. Wonder what happened to her? Good grief, Christa, I'm getting older by the minute!
Time to assemble my packed lunch and contemplate the great outdoors. Fresh air here I come. It's 09:55 and my drive is only partially blocked by the parents of keen musicians getting their private lessons over in the bungalow. Toot, toot.
Phase One of the day's...
... adventure is now complete. I'm back from a 6.1 mile local hike in glorious sunshine, under a cloudless blue sky, with a faint breeze but not too many of those Celsius things. It's 13:56 and I shall now polish off the rest of my packed lunch. Phase Two starts in three hours at Andrew's with nibbles, followed by a mystery film at Mike's. Tonight's meal is less of a mystery; I gather dead pig is on the menu. I've popped the car back in the garage, however, as it really is still not warm out there on the drive. I also note there are plans afoot to close off my local motorway entrance for several consecutive nights in the near future. That's a bit of a nuisance.
Come on in, the water's fine
My web server log suggests3 that about five times more people come in, as it were, through my online diary than use my home page. Now I'm well aware that the user is always right (of course!) but I haven't let that deter me from generating another "word cloud" to refresh the image that I'd kept on the home page for the last year or more. Change is good, they tell me. (Though what do "they" know?)