2015 — 15 October: Thursday

Were I the sort of chap who bangs on about all his petty crises, failures of domestic godliness, and other kitchen-related disappointments1 I might, as I make yet another attempt to clean the damn' thing, have something to say about the all-too-rapidly lost sparkle of my new (and so-called "stainless" steel) kitchen sink's worktop. Short of never putting anything wet on the drainer I'm left puzzled how to stop it from looking disgusting after a day or so.

Perhaps my cockroaches all stomp around in muddy boots each night?

I mentioned...

... some electronically-assisted shopping yesterday. I did a spot more in the evening, but before I go into any detail I find I must now concentrate more on food for my continued thrival/survival. Still, there's just one year left until my generous State Pension kicks in. At that point I shall then doubtless be rich enough to hire myself either or both a butler and a cook. Won't that be nice?

Big Bro, speaking (no doubt) from his slowly-fading grasp on reality, had suggested "Fillet steak and a a (sic) fine wine perhaps?" for my birthday. I countered with "More likely to be a Marmite sandwich, but I might add honey". Though I actually settled on a perfectly pleasant chicken curry and rice followed by yet another attempt to invoke Stendhal Syndrome. But naturally I forgot the wine.2

While I admit...

... I'd completely forgotten about my solicitor's appointment to sign my revised Will this morning, I was actually only about three minutes late for it. If only they'd stop digging up various bits of road I'm (almost) sure I could have got there on the dot.

I was enjoying...

... this book review, until I quickly got distracted(!). The reason for the "!" is deducible.3 If my search is fruitful, I may yet write it up. However, it's nearly time for my lunch date. That I haven't forgotten.

And this is by the Nobel physicist whom I heard on "Private Passions" a couple of weeks ago during that fascinating "Why music?" examination.

Back from an...

... enjoyable post-birthday "Fisher's Pond" lunch at which I belatedly decided to go along with Big Bro's steak suggestion (though with soda, not wine) it's now time to set the record straight. This is about the best example I've yet seen. Thackeray wrote Christa's favourite novel. Just sayin'.


... with today's delivery of this promising-looking film:

DVD of X+Y

I moved smoothly through this insider's review of the film, and such Maths Olympiads, before stopping off at the relevant entry in his blog. That took me to the "Catagolue" and its specific entry regarding the Ash Pattern Generator search code.

Mind you, this is all purely academic. I've long since put aside my initial interest in Conway's Game of Life. The idea of generating and keeping tabs on 19 billion patterns and their eventual decay products rather blows my mind. Or would, if I were to let it.



1  Which, of course, I'm not :-)
2  Again. As usual.
3  Recalling what John Aubrey said in his "Brief Lives" regarding the behaviour of "G, the Duke of Buckingham, during his geometry lessons" might help your deduction along, though only if the set of links filed in your memory is as weird as mine seems to be. But my search — for the book "Driving Force" that I bought in March 1991 — was, sadly, unfruitful. Though at least I was able to confirm it was "Mike" Crawford rather than "Matthew" Crawford.