2010 — 24 June: Thursday
Having first bled some accumulated air out of a couple of upstairs radiators, and then watched me re-pressurise the system, the plumber is now tinkering away aloft in the loft getting ready to disconnect, dismantle, and remove all the redundant pipework, cold tank, and header tank. I suspect he'd like to be done before the sun raises the temperature too high.
Time (09:11) for a spot of bleary-eyed breakfast. Another very fitful night of half sleep.
The cells go marching on
I was vaguely aware of the existence of a line of "immortal" human cell tissue, but the details turn out to be pretty amazing. Source and snippet:
What Skloot found out puts the American healthcare system, and beyond it scientists everywhere who depend on patient goodwill, but fail to communicate effectively, in the dock. Because what she found out was that, while Lacks's cells were changing the face of modern medicine, her husband and children not only knew nothing about it — they were also without adequate healthcare themselves.
"Big Pharma" strikes again, it seems.
Having just helped drain and remove the cold tank, it's time for the next cuppa and that delayed breakfast while I ponder having to wait an extra year before the Guvmint's not over-generous state pension kicks in. Timing, as ever, is crucial.
Random is good. It must be; it seems to be the basis on which the Universe "works".
I've always regarded the Vulcan as something special...
Now I can restore my own — quite a retirement project! Rowland White wrote an interesting book ("Vulcan 607: air attack on Port Stanley") about the Vulcan bombing raid during the Falklands unpleasantness (are we allowed to call it a war at this remove?); I suspect I passed that along to Big Bro as I don't recall seeing it during any of the recent book shifting exercises.
It's 11:20 and Brian's just about finished, both for the day and indeed the entire replumbing work. There's a spot of coving he'll replace above the boiler but, having laboured mightily in what was rapidly becoming the unbearable heat of the loft, he's off for his early shower. And I shall shortly be off for the "healthy" brunch option at Loomies in an open-top. We retired folk know how to live, you know.
[Pause]
And back neatly in time to field a call arranging the bathroom vinyl fitting for 09:00 on this coming Saturday. Need to sort out some funds to pay the fitter. Need to do the same for Brian, of course. This has become easily my heaviest month of cash outflow since retiring — even the new car was less as we took (for arcane reasons I still don't understand) an interest-free loan for about 40% of its cost.
Later
A brief burst of sleep catch-up (I was zonked), followed by a cuppa and a chat over with Roger and Eileen and, next thing I know, I'm putting aside the Stephenie Meyer novella that was waiting on my front doorstep 'cos I need some food. It's 18:44 and just a bit cooler hereabouts.
Nice timing...
... as the (also newly-delivered) "Eclipse" soundtrack CD ended about 15 seconds before I finished reading "The short second life of Bree Tanner". Nice little yarn, expertly integrated with the events of "Eclipse". I didn't notice any standout music tracks, but maybe that's because I was concentrating on the words. It's 20:11 and I have a small mountain of serious tidying-up that's not going to do itself. Times like this, you envy the Sorceror's Apprentice.
Moving on to, and through, the Tyler Rix saxophone CD I first heard about last Sunday — the third component in today's doorstep delivery... On balance, I still prefer Brian Eno's original version of "Ending (An Ascent)" but then I would say that, wouldn't I? Serendipity within iTunes has now taken me to Murray Head (older brother of "Giles" from "Buffy", and so memorable in Sunday Bloody Sunday between Glenda Jackson and Peter Finch back in 1971) and the horrible realisation that "Chess" came out on CD1 back in 1984! If I didn't know better I could almost swear I'm getting older by the minute :-)
Must be time for a cuppa. [Pause] This is delightful news. I've been a fan since the late 1980s. Right, time for another attempt at sleep. It's only 22:43 too. Crikey.