2012 — 24 April: Tuesday

Well, on the evidence so far1 I'm quite interested to see where yesterday's "Life" takes me next. So it's already done better than "Due South" managed. I don't actually have a short attention span, per se, but I have certainly developed a marked intolerance for what Mike's chum Roger (now raising alpacas in Wales) used to categorise as All-American BS. (A tad ironic in this case as Damian Lewis is a Brit.)

The rain...

... has stopped, so today's festive agenda includes a trip to Winchester, picking up tech expert Brian en route, to fix Andrew's email setup on his Android Tablet PC, then add Mike to the mix and whizz out to the vicinity of East Tisted to grab us some country O2 and maybe a Hampshire pie and a pint before putting our boots to work for a bit. Sound like a plan? As long as we're back before mid-afternoon — who knows? — we might even stay dry.

Item #1, however, is a bite of breakfast. And another cuppa. It's 07:22 and counting.

Went the day well?

Andrew's got his email working on his Tablet PC. We got our 7-mile stroll2 in without getting rained on, and I enjoyed a pint of "No Name" bitter. And I have a bottle of red to enjoy at some point, too. Result. It's 17:02 and the Beeb's forecast was less than wholly accurate.

"Creeping Ivy" isn't...

... just a phrase from The Navy Lark — I've seen at first hand the damage it can do to brickwork. So when I spotted a few of the evil tendrils by the kitchen door (but heading up the bricks) while going out to wheel out the Black Bin a few minutes ago, I put Christa's giant secateurs to good use. It's still surprisingly light out there, given that it's now 20:35. [Pause] Having worked my way systematically through several thousand music (and other audio) files I think it's time for some sleep. G'night.



1  The pilot and its followup.
2  I must say, today's walk, often muddy underfoot, seems to have abused a few under-used muscle groups.