2010 — 31 January: Sunday
Well, that's nearly it for January I guess. The evening started nicely at Andrew's with nibbles, and then we adjourned over to Mike's for a meal followed by a delightful ensemble film Ten Inch Hero.1
It's now 01:55 and about -6C out there, with lots of stars visible in a clear sky, and thick frost on all the poor cars left shivering outside. I shall have a final cuppa and call it a day for now, methinks, to the musical choices of Bob Harris. He's on a Wainwright family kick at the moment. G'night...
I'm only mildly surprised...
... to see that it's now 11:19 or so (after I've found my glasses and can actually read the time2 in the bottom right hand corner of the screen). I'm certainly not surprised to find a frosty world out there. And I'm not at all surprised to be enjoying my first cuppa even while still jim-jammed. I've received proof that Mike's bit of Winchester didn't quite touch -6C overnight — I suspect from the sleek appearance of the puddle across half the road at the bottom of my local hill that it was certainly cool here. It may also be that a) the problems the original builders had with drainage nearly 30 years ago have resurfaced yet again (since I doubt anyone has actually been out washing their car already [though I could be wrong]), and that b) this little icerink will at least slow down the normal breakneck pace of my more distant neighbours as they roar up the hill in their massive Chelsea tractors on their way to worship at their Sunday temples of commerce.
But now I need to dig out a tiny tome by Eric Gill to research a tricky question3 of aesthetics for young Brack. 'Scuse I, as I believe they say downunder... I'd also better get some breakfast, methinks. And another cuppa.
Given that I've...
... only just finished breakfast — and it's 13:49 — I have to admit I chortled more than somewhat as I read this. Source and snippets:
... no one has ever used up as many calories hunting for chocolate as the chocolate itself provides.
I don't know whether the Pope was right when he said the washing machine had been more liberating than contraception — I assume he's never tried either — but for us in the developed world it is fridges and freezers that surely have made a fantastic difference. Before, you had to buy much of your food quite near the time of cooking and try to eat it up before it dried up or went green4...
The accompanying picture of the saintly Ms W is just perfect.
I was tempted to link to an old story about the rise of belief in creationism in UK science and medical students, but it was too emetic. Instead, I recommend a dose of Victoria Coren. (I must say the comments it's attracted reveal some remarkably humour-free readers.)
Aside to Christa
I wandered down to the "Central Precinct" (not that you'd know it was called that, as the last vestiges of the name have now fallen completely off the concrete fascia) for a tiny burst of fresh air and exercise as I was posting some snailmail to Junior. The doll house shop you said wouldn't survive has failed. I would have wandered around the inner courtyard but the youths there rather put me off. What was originally the estate agent Fox and Sons (from whom, of course, we bought this house) is, once again, empty. The fireplace shop you said wouldn't survive has failed, and remained empty for perhaps a year or more. There's a planning application in its window suggesting that its next incarnation will be as an off-licence. It was a chemist when we moved here, and went on to become a travel agent that you used from time to time. Still, there are hair and nail places a-plenty so the economic miracle proceeds apace, obviously. And your preferred bank is still there. Indeed, I even proved my latest debit card had been activated by using it for a mini-statement.
Such is progress. My first-ever debit card was from the same outfit back in its "Midland" days and back in the late 1970s. Ho-hum. Time (18:09) for my evening meal. I'm apparently starving!
Somewhat later
Even at my advanced age I encounter new things. Today, for example (while catching up on last night's Internet documentary) I saw Stewart Brand5 for (as far as I can recall) the first time. I have to say the documentary had fewer laughs per minute than the latest episode of The Big Bang Theory which I've also now caught up with. I'm now cuddling my latest hot cuppa as I glumly note the dropping temperature outside. It's 20:12 and there are still some miles to go before I sleep...
Spot the stupid sound-bite...
