2010 — 8 November: Monday
Just time1 (before my eyes slam shut) for a quick placeholder, and to finish listening to "Freudiana" (Alan Parsons). I was scanning the artwork for his 1999 CD "The Time Machine" which I see is on offer from Amazon at incredible prices compared to what I paid. How strange. Surely not just because of the "Dr Evil; Austin Powers Mix" bonus track?
G'night.
Yuk!
"Rain before 7, fine before 11" — it's 06:44 so let the weather observation commence.
The BBC's "Care in the UK" (there are some six million unpaid carers) sounds like a barrel of unlaughs. It inevitably reminds me of that well-known ditty by The Who. Getting old is no fun if accompanied by ill-health...
This is one of the more unusual web site interfaces I've seen. Today, at least.
Onward
The store cupboard, fridge, and freezer are a little better equipped to withstand a seige. I would have topped up the petrol tank but a large tanker was disrupting operations at my preferred filling station. It's now (09:41) very much time for a bit of breakfast, then I shall resume battle with dear Mama's bank to work through all this Power of Attorney stuff. Such good fun.
I cannot pretend that the existence of neuroeconomists strikes me as a happy development. (Source.)
The warrior is back from the first skirmish, largely unbloodied. In fact, I was sufficiently impressed I may even transfer my allegiance back to this outfit — I was one of their customers until 1976 when a rival outfit extended a £300 loan for some central heating work on condition that I switched my "business" to them. I'm such a fickle slut. It's 12:30, the sun is trying to shine, but it's still rather chilly and moist out there. My next task, after lunch, will be to pay the next monthly fee for her care-home. I'm just listening to a BBC Radio 4 item on precisely this topic as I type.
Off I trot again. It's 13:44 and clouding over somewhat.
And not upward
It's now 22:19 and the barometer remains dramatically low, with some rainy stuff going on out there as I wheel the black bin out. The afternoon was spent firstly with dear Mama, then with Roger and Eileen. Evening meal, dishes, and some broadcast TV for a change (though from one of Mike's memory sticks, not "live"). A recent Horizon on the plasticity of the brain's processing of sensory inputs. Quite interesting. There was a blind chap, for example, who's taught himself to echo-locate like bats (and like the people in Daniel F Galouye's 1961 novel "Dark Universe", for that matter).
Curiously tired, I'm heading for some sleep. G'night.