2010 — 20 October: Wednesday
Having just1 scraped some ice flowers planted by Jack Frost on my windscreen, I'm prepared to believe it was cold last night. But it's very sunny right now.
I've just phoned the surgery wherein lurks dear Mama's GP in hopes of confirming a call today. Yes, "I'm definitely on the list" (just as I was yesterday) and they can "only apologise" for not having her call me yesterday. Since they had to take my phone number again, I'm left wondering how efficient they are. We shall see. And since the calls don't start until nearly noon, I may even be able to whizz out for some necessary foody stuff. What good fun. [Pause] Having whizzed as fast as I could, it's 10:05 and I can now do something about breaking my fast. Another cuppa might help restore my equanimity, too.
Bloody well right
I still remember listening to this excellent Supertramp album, on vinyl, and on a swish pair of Monitor Audio speakers, back in my freelance record reviewing days in the mid-1970s in Old Windsor...
... I subsequently bought a luxury copy (mastered at half speed and pressed on super vinyl). But it wasn't until I got this Japanese CD 26 years ago that I fully appreciated the care that had gone into the recording. Stellar font, too :-)
CD artwork scanning continues.
In between browsing Mr Postie's delivery of the book that became the film "The social network", that is.
Noon
And still no call from the GP. Spam emails are coming in thick and fast, however. About 99% are being captured by my Google Mail filters. They are almost all email failure notices with my email ID tacked on to a whole variety of different "names". Often Russian tax notices, which is a bit of a giveaway. Crazy world. Here's one of the more useful responses:
The message carried your return address, so it was either a genuine mail from you, or a sender address was faked and your e-mail address abused by third party, in which case we apologize for undesired notification. We do try to minimize backscatter for more prominent cases of UBE and for infected mail, but for less obvious cases of UBE some balance between losing genuine mail and sending undesired backscatter is sought, and there can be some collateral damage on both sides.
"UBE" is unsolicited bulk email, I gather. I still (at 12:45) await my solicited phone call.
Hollow laughter dept.
Our young Chancellor "admitted there will be some redundancies in the public sector, which he said were unavoidable when the country had run out of money." And there's me thinking they were so happy just to keep printing the stuff, quantitatively easing themselves, as it were, off the hook. He also seems to think that Brenda's department of thieves and knaves can save 15%. If it can, that will be a miraculous first time.
HM Revenue and Customs — 15% through the better use of new technology and greater efficiency
How about taxing the non-dom multi-millionaire fat cats? I realise it's politically easier all round to chase after low-level benefits cheats (though even they extend up into the House of Lords) but how I long to hear the sound of those pips squeaking that Denis Healey promised us so many decades ago.
Phoned
Finally! Useful chat with the GP, followed by my late lunch. Now, it's 18:14, feels rather cold, and I'm about to eat before setting off for a video evening over in Winchester.