2015 — 13 May: Wednesday
While there's never really a good time for one's central heating system to fail1 there are worse times than at the beginning of warmer weather. Besides, there are also plums to be stewed followed by breakfast to be eaten. I shall investigate further, but not until after this morning's walk.
It's been three years...
... since I spotted news that lovely actress Cate Blanchett is to star in a film version of Patricia Highsmith's 1952 novel "The price of salt", more recently published as "Carol". The timing of the further "news" here amuses me.
Bad news...
... for Big Pharma, and the ever-fatter DSM:
I've read...
... rather more by Noam Chomsky over the years than I have by Sam Harris. This recent 'exchange' between them doesn't seem likely to change my reading patterns.
Naturally...
... while I was out for my Sparsholt stroll Mr Postie left news of a letter that requires my signature. It seems a little soon to be the first salvo of Probate "asset gathering in" but I can't think what else it would be.
This time, I've remembered to unload the washing machine. Of course, there's no longer a warm radiator over which to dangle my shirts. I suppose I could always resort to the Great Outdoors.
Mr Postie did manage to leave this for me:
Plus an (unwanted) offer of extended insurance on my now 4-years-old "new" gas cooker. Given that my previous cooker lasted 34 years or so, I think I'll chance it. It's not exactly over-burdened with work of a thermal variety. And Bri gives it an annual once-over.
I'm not entirely convinced...
... that reading the marvellous book by Henry Marsh is in my best2 interests, but it's an irresistible reminder that what politicians say about the NHS is, erm, at odds with the reality. This brief example considers the Mandatory and Statutory Training seminar on Customer Care:
How strange it is, I thought, as I listened to him talking, that after thirty years of struggling with death, disaster and countless crises and catastrophes, having watched patients bleed to death in my hands, having had furious arguments with colleagues, terrible meetings with relatives, moments of utter despair and of profound exhilaration — in short a typical neurosurgical career — how strange it is that I should now be listening to a young man with a background in catering telling me that I should develop empathy, keep focused and stay calm...
I've had BBC Radio 3's "In Tune" on in the background but have absolutely no idea what's been played. I might as well have been in the cone of silence produced by Fenton's gadget in Arthur C Clarke's 1954 story "Silence, please!"
Back from the Post Office depot...
... just in time to hear the concert live from Cambridge. Excellent. And the item of mail was Probate-related. It's the return of one of my "Sealed Grants", with a promise of more correspondence to follow shortly. One half down, three to go. More or less.
Having found...
... the Recoll application every bit as useful under Linux as I did Copernic under Windows for locally searching all the digital gubbins lurking on my PC I've just added the Ubuntu PPA to install the latest version rather than continuing to tolerate the considerably back-level version in the Mint repository. All seems well.