2010 — 20 May: Thursday

Once again the anniversary of my father's death has rolled around. Mind you, this is the first time I've been older than he was when he died. Progress of a strange sort, I guess.

If I'm to be in a fit state for a walk in a few hours from now I'd better get me some sleep first. And the dishes are done this time. G'night.

It's time for breakfast!

Rather past, in fact. And a lunch to pack, and some clothes to throw on. I'd better get with the programme. It's 09:19 and cloudy but bright out there.

A discount of 10% to 20% on an "old" analogue radio doesn't sound like a scrappage scheme; more like an act of marketing desperation. Resist DAB is my motto. Particularly if the bozos at the BBC do indeed fail to be shamed into not scrapping 6Music, which seems to me to be by far the best channel currently available only on the digital platform. (Source.)

Right! Time (10:03) I wasn't here, since I have to be over there.

Pleasantly surprised...

... on opening the front door, to find a pair of ERNIEs rather than the singleton that was all that had been showing on his web site when I checked earlier this month. Better, as they say, than a poke in the eye. So that's another half tank of petrol paid for :-)

Our 5.6 mile walk today was hot, sticky and pollenacious as we skirted a fair few contour lines around the edge of Marwell Zoo and Owslebury, starting at Hensting Lane (a name I seem to recall from 1982 when our friend Gill was renting a room in a house thereabouts while working as a contractor at IBM). That, it occurs to me, was an awfully long time ago. We took Peter along with us to a party at her place and he was still pretty much a babe in arms. (It also occurs to me now that Gill was one of the "unsuitable" lunch partners I mentioned yesterday. But then I thought the IBM manager was pretty unsuitable, so it all evens out in the end.)

Having munched (at home) the lunch I toted round on the walk, what are my next tasks? Pay in the ERNIEs, and grab a fresh round of ingredients for my faithful crockpot. Then I'm back on book-packing duty (it's like back-packing, but slightly more intellectual).

This is well worth a bookmark. William Zinsser is a fine writer. (And I don't say that casually.)

My word, it's sticky today, and is starting to get to my eyes. Looks like it's nearly time for windows-shut mode. I resist anti-histamines because I'm quite dopey enough already. Generally speaking. Time (15:32) to get packing. [Pause] Another four cartons safely stored — that's enough for today, and I've now cleared all the living room bookcases hindering Mr Plumber's access to the radiator there. It's 18:12 and I'm feeling a pang or two of hunger.