2012 — 2 August: Thursday
Perhaps the more than somewhat past their "Best Before" boiled chucky eggs1 (yesterday's lazy light snack evening meal [after a fairly hefty lunch out at "The Bridge"]) were to blame. Perhaps it was the not-strictly-necessary (but better than a chocolate biscuit?) suppertime cheese and Marmite sandwich. I shall keep them all off the menu until the next time I actually want another weird and only partly wonderful set of dreams. What was that all about, I wonder? Human neural garbage collection2 (and let's face it, I've accumulated my share of neural garbage over the years) is not always a pretty 'sight'.
If I thought for a minute that he actually knew what he was talking about, I would ask Mrs Google to show me the work of ol' Sigmund. I can't consult my own shelves as great-granddaughter Emma's collection of some of the best bits of Clement is the only material by a Freud still in the house. (For reasons clearly enunciated by Ronald Dworkin among others.)
I think today's adventures may well include a little shower-dodging expotition to help clear the noggin. But not before a bite of brekkie. And another cuppa.
Citizen Kane...
... displaced by Vertigo? It's enough to make my head spin. Or is it just the silly season? (Link.)
The trouble with...
... chewing gum, particularly when it 'escapes' into a jacket pocket and gets moist therein, is the nasty, sticky, apparently unremovable lump of goo it metamorphoses into. I really must check pockets more carefully prior to the washing machine stage, dammit.
Time for lunch, methinks. Is that a Scotch egg I see with your salad, Mr Mounce? Looks tasty. [Pause] It was.
The Man of Property? Moi?
My parents were both great fans of John Galsworthy's "Forsyte Saga" long before it was turned into a TV series. I've taken a few stabs at it over the years but I have to say the investment in time3 and effort has so far been beyond me...
Hearing an afternoon radio news item about the Bank of England keeping its base rate unchanged prompted me to take a look at the state of the online accounts I (sadly, literally) inherited from Christa. I think it's fair to say I'm not going to get rich living on the interest from them. But I've transferred a smidgen sensibly around, and can now forget about them again for a while.
As long as I have enough money to feed, clothe, and house myself, with enough left over to potter gently around, seeking amusement and entertainment where and when I can, then that's an elegant sufficiency — or so it seems to me.
My newest toy, the...
... cheap and cheerful i-Can hi-def digital Freeview TV set-top box, went into a bit of a sulk. It obviously doesn't take kindly to being left on in 'mere' radio mode for days at a time. So this evening, it decided to protest by displaying a BBC 6Music programme screen from mid-afternoon, regardless of whichever radio or TV channel I now selected. It would let me summon the EPG, but it still reverted to its frozen screen, though it was kind enough to feed me whatever audio accompanied my various choices.
This bizarre behaviour lasted until I powered it completely off for five minutes. You get a more interesting class of error symptoms with digital technology, I'll say that much for it. If it happens again, I'm quite prepared to re-instate the previous Sony box. It doesn't have hi-def capability, but that's not really needed with a radio, is it?