2010 — 10 August: Tuesday
A somewhat drizzly-looking start1 but the "Breakfast" music is doing a fine job. Things are always just that little bit better after a good night's sleep, too. Preceded, in my case (at least) by my whimsical decision to re-watch "The West Wing"2 ab initio. Four episodes from the 1999 first season and the main characters are already well-established.
All I need now is breakfast and a cuppa, and I can finish clearing Peter's room ready for the last bit of new carpet. There, not a word about dear Mama! It's 08:15 and I may just have to move off BBC Radio 3 as they've now started a silly "classical chart snippets" section. (Hang on. Karl Jenkins is at #5. I can still remember the fuss when "Soft Machine" played at a Prom concert, and Mr J was also the co-founder [with the late Ian Carr — another dementia victim, sadly] of my favourite jazz-rock fusion group, Nucleus.)
CEOs must stick together, it seems. Though I'm not entirely sure I'd like a character reference from this pair. (Source.)
Having just upgraded...
... (yet again) the not-all-that-impressive Safari web browser on my iMac, and noting that it's obviously now become so tightly tied into the operating system that it needs me to re-boot, I was minded to check the state of my network (in light of Mr Vinyl fitter's recent comment that he'd picked up two or three unsecured local networks while using his phone up in the ex-study). My only wireless connection is, as far as I can tell...
... to the iMac down here, almost directly underneath the router up in Peter's bedroom. And it remains, as far as I can tell, speedy, secured and stealthy. As long as I don't use the microwave oven, all should remain well. I do hope Peter eventually manages to unbrick the new router he's been preparing for use here in Technology Towers. It would be quite nice to make full use of my ISP's 20Mb broadband, though I fully expect some of the bits to be a bit tired by the time they struggle here from the local exchange. Can't be easy swimming through copper wire. (I do sometimes feel tempted to wonder where electrons come from, but I generally lie down until the urge goes away.)
Having nipped out for...
... some drizzly fresh air, and to mooch around some of the shelves at the End of the Hedge where the Buy is the Best, my current state is now post-prandial. I'm left wondering, however, why some people drift out into the "overtaking" lane without, as it were, putting their foot down. Nor did I ever expect to hear JE Gordon given a name check on the radio for his two classic books — my copies...3
... are a faintly worrying 32 years old. (BBC 6Music is having a bit of a Science Week Thing, it seems.) Let alone learn that Oliver Sacks is the assigned reading as part of a psychology degree course at a university north of Watford. (Can I have a degree in Psychology, please?)
I have decided to give...
... dear Mama's care-home a miss today. One doesn't want to have too much of a Good Thing. One, or possibly both, of these newly-acquired DVD titles may just apply:
I was pointed (thanks, Tom) to a "Guardian" page from which I filched a new (to me) one-liner from Emo Philips. I like it when that happens.
Time (15:20) for an overdue cuppa from the Figg Academy of Afternoon Tea. [Pause] That's better. Though now it's time to fire up the flux capacitor and fill a dish of crockpot with some thermal 'get up and go'. It's been drizzling away. I shall start to grumble if it carries on for much longer. It's 18:20 and I'm peckish. [Pause] Next thing I know, it's 20:14 and I've just printed out flight details for her-next-door's emergency trip home to Pakistan tomorrow with her toddler to sort out a parental health issue. Murphy's Law conveniently kicked in and trashed her email access at just precisely the wrong time. Hubby is away at work during the week, and she's already had to dash up to Banbury today to park the older child with in-laws. (Who were very taken by Christa, as it happens.)
And there's me thinking sometimes that I'm the only chap with problems! There are problems every-bloody-where you care to look, dammit. Every-bloody-where!
It takes quite a lot...
... to shock me. This emailed product managed the trick:
How can this be legal?