2010 — 10 June: Thursday
It's 01:09 and time to let the Dyson cool down. Every time I empty it I ponder anew whether to re-floor with polished wood. Not that I can afford it. The entire front area of the living room is now stripped clear as far as the carpet goes, and ready for its new radiator.
Ho hum. This is jolly hard work, and I've only reached carton #159 upstairs in the study. I'm going to call it a night before I drop, as it were, in my tracks. But before I do, here's a photo of Christa from 1975 in our rented flat in Old Windsor...
She was on the phone to her Mum in Germany. The jamjar covered in red felt and the little note pad were carefully used for collecting and tracking her telephone call money.1 In those distant days, she had to place each home call through the international operator in London and basically book a call. I remember she used to get irritated by the way one of the operators would try to identify her accent and flirt with her, so I'd sometimes get the job of establishing contact. The operators never tried to flirt with me!
G'night.
Tee-hee
As a fully paid-up member of the beard and sandals, wishy-washy, liberal, anti-war ("Can't everyone just be nice to people?") alliance, I was amused to receive yet more overnight proof (not that I really needed it) of just how divergent my thinking is from Big Bro's when it comes to the military-industrial complex that Eisenhower warned us about while I was still in short trousers — mind you, I'm in short trousers today, too.2
Big Bro's one-line response to the Simon Jenkins piece on eliminating all defence spending suggests he found it a tiny step too far. Accompanying the terse comment "At least somebody over there is thinking straight" he attached a scan of the recent two-page ravings closely-argued articulate reasoning3 of one James Arbuthnot, who until (I assume — I don't track these minutiae) the recent election swept him safely away, was chairman of the House of Commons defence select committee from 2005.
It's 09:32, the plumber is having a whale of a time downstairs, and it's time to fix my blood-sugar level before resuming the Highland Clearances up here.
Lemonses yet?
It's noon, in fact, and carton #164 is now in store. There was a thick plume of smoke on the road leading up to the warehouse, but unrelated to it. Good! The plumber has been refuelled and has finished the living room. But I won't be able to plumb all my A/V kit back until he's tested all his work, of course. Meanwhile, Big Bro reminds me (quite correctly, though I'm not personally convinced of the relevance) that I worked for many years for one of the largest US defence contractors. Trust me, Bro, none of my work there was of any military value :-)
[Pause]
Make that carton #170 as I now relax after a bite of lunch. It's 14:23 and looks as if it intends to rain fairly soon. Having been told by Brian that my house has "sleeper walls" everywhere, and that this is nowadays unusual, I found a fascinating explanation here. Amazing what goes on underfoot, isn't it?
Upcoming upheavals
On Monday, Brian turns his attention upstairs to my study (which is now nearly clear of stuff on the floor). He's going to be working his way along from there to Christa's cave (also now an echoing cavern), and along again to Junior's room, and also along the landing to the bathroom, and hanging a left (as it were) into my bedroom. The real upheaval (he tells me) will actually start when he's ripping the cold tank out of the loft and the hot tank out of the airing cupboard (hopefully without crippling the power shower he fitted for us a few years back).
So I have tomorrow and the weekend to finish clearing things out of his way. Then I will actually be off the air for a while as I'll be out for most of Monday with Mike. We're travelling up to the South Bank Imax to watch Avatar in 3D. Here's hoping Brian doesn't hammer a nail through the broadband boxes while I'm away. (He's doing jolly well so far.) He showed me the thick black treacle that dripped slowly out of the living room's front radiator — it was something wondrous to behold. Far more like tar than any working fluid. It's little wonder I'm already on my third central heating circulation pump.
Later
Having finished the evening eats (though the dishes remain undone) and having managed to break the handle off one of Christa's favoured mugs (very irritating) I'm just about to wire the power amplifier back into the rest of the A/V system, and then check it all out. The kit is easily accommodated on the new shelf unit that she bought early in 2007. It makes it easier to fiddle around with all the connection gubbins at the back, but it does leave me with the question of what to do with the pair of previous shelfing stands. Having the plasma screen on the wheeled shelf unit is also a major improvement for the single chap with only one pair of hands.
I'm currently undecided about where to site the iMac. Such is Life. It's 20:03 and much cooler than the last few days have been, so I think the shorts are going to be replaced, erm, shortly. Then I may even have a look at today's dropping from Mr Postie. Busy, busy. I'm also working on filling carton #173...