2010 — 22 July: Thursday
It rained heavily enough to wake me at 07:30 and there are some spectacular clouds up there partly blocking the sun. Time for my next cuppa.
I'm sure part of my liking for Chopin (the Nocturne #2 in Eb major has just been tinkling past my ears) stems from hearing my Dad playing some of his deceptively tricky piano music back in the day. I even practised a simplified Polonaise for a school concert back in Junior school. And I found some old sheet music up in the loft while on the recent grand stamps-for-Big-Bro hunt. He (Bro, not Chopin) should be arriving back here in a couple of hours from now — now being 09:08). Hope he's not too hungry.1 He has it in mind to visit a care home or two in the vicinity so I deduce he thinks he got an informed decision out of dear Mama. (But he couldn't connect to his email, poor lad, so I just got a short note from daughter #1.)
From our (Jedi-influenced?) "astronomer royal"...
Click his quote for a pic.
Biggest star on record... where?!
(Source.)
I was so fascinated to read about this Windows vulnerability (and the bizarre disabling of some of the graphical short-cut icons2 as a consequence of the emergency workaround) that I didn't even notice there was another heavy shower of rain. But the study skylight hadn't let too much in and, besides, there's practically nothing up there to be damaged at the moment.
In years past...
... I can remember wasting precious Meccano model-building time by rifling through my large box of bits, screwdriver in hand, looking for my screwdriver. Yesterday, I put my magic Allen key — the one that fits my three desks and various metal shelf sets — somewhere really safe as I knew I'd need it today for dismantling the other desk in the study. The fresh cuppa has had time to cool during my search. It's now somewhere really really safe; I think. Time: 11:41. Big Bro's status: not yet arrived. Time: 12:12. Big Bro's status: arrived.
This growing old, frail and confused lark, ...
... remind me again of the benefits, can you? Somewhat to the surprise of both her sons, it turns out (after five weeks in hospital and less than a week back in her house) dear Mama has now turned her thinking through 180 degrees from a life-long abhorrence generally (and often) expressed as "You're not putting me in a home" to a surprisingly amenable "Fix me up in a home, please, as soon as you can" which is certainly going to make some aspects of this whole fraught business just a bit easier. John and I are therefore off back up to the Midlands tomorrow having done a quick assessment of two local residential homes. The one in Winchester seems about as near perfect as these things can ever be.
It's now 19:05 and, having swung by Mike (for a cuppa, to introduce Big Bro, and to help get Mike's redundant giant subwoofer down to the tip), and Waitrose (to pick up some supper for tonight and the makings of a snack for tomorrow's journey), I for one am ready to put my feet up. What shall we watch tonight, I wonder?