2012 — 7 March: Wednesday
Having reminded myself of the awfulness that is / was "Vamp"1 I've suddenly realised that it's 02:32 and the network hard drive I've been tinkering with (in an attempt to rescue Christopher's data) has failed me for the last time tonight. It's beginning to exasperate me, but I'm also starting to yawn more or less continually, so it's time for beddy-bye.
If the rain isn't too awful, we're going to try for another walk in a few hours. Another reason to get some sleep.
My digital radio...
... down here in my living room is one of an identical pair of Freeview Digital Terrestrial TV Sony devices. It has just (08:53 or so) "told" me two things. Explicitly the rain should clear by late afternoon. Implicitly the retuning exercise needed "to get my TV picture back" (which I have yet to perform) has currently left my habitual choice of BBC 6Music radio unaffected.
Of course, I've yet to try any other station or, for that matter, to switch either of these boxes off and back on. But since I have to hook them both up to a screen to see what I'm doing before I can navigate through the menus to perform the retuning, I can wait.2
And I can always use the Freesat Digital Satellite in the meantime. That has a front panel display that identifies the station.
Taxing times
I have to say, this strikes me as an accurate description:
Council tax is unfair. Whereas under rates, the ratio of lowest to highest house valuation was roughly 1:100, the spread of the eight council tax bands is merely 1:3. The highest H band was £320,000 at 1991 prices (up to an average of £950,000 today). The bands have never been adjusted, while a growing sense of unfairness leads all governments to curry electoral favour by "freezing" council tax in favour of stealth taxes. The whole saga epitomises Britain's political cowardice.
That said, if the local chieftain didn't have his castle, against what would my mud hut be able to lean?
I remain unconvinced...
... by e-books, but still quite enjoy reading about them. (Link.)
Meanwhile, as lunch comes thundering down the track towards me, I now suspect my chum Christopher's network disk drive has temperature issues. I'm letting it cool off for a bit before any further battle. Outside, the sky is somewhat brighter, and the porch thermometer has soared to +10C, so we may yet risk a little stroll, rather later than our usual time. It's 11:46.
[Pause] My optimistic walking companion is sure the weather will be OK for a 14:00 start. I'm slightly dubious, but am prepared to give it a whirl. Meanwhile, the living room Freeview box now keeps flipping from 6Music to (I suspect) BBC1 TV. The upstairs one is (so far) behaving better. I've reverted to the satellite signal in hopes that we're simply seeing some glitches from the transmitter at Rowridge. Life's too short to agonise over radio transmissions. I've left within easy reach the leads with which I can quickly hook either box back up to the plasma screen in case I need to tinker again.
Thanks, Mr Postie
Now I can re-acquaint myself with my favourite neighbourhood dope dealer. Though I'll have to switch the Oppo Blu-ray to Zone A first:
Right. Time for a blast of cold, fresh air. Brrr. [Pause] Well... at least it didn't rain!
Should Time permit (and when did it ever?) later this evening, I may curl up with the new issue of The Word to find out where Paul Weller said it's OK to be "mutton dressed as ram". But first, as it's now 19:16, and I'm hungry, I'd better fix my evening meal. I've nearly thawed out, after all.
I would (probably) feel more kindly disposed towards Christopher's network drive if it hadn't turned out to be hosting a nasty Trojan. <Sigh>
G'night.