Well I'm trying to make changes. I'm checking out two ISPs at the moment and it's incredibly frustrating: one in Glasgow is enticing as regards prices etc, but its "customer services" department seems to be one bloke with a very poor memory. "Hockadilly? Ohhhh, riiiight, I completely forgot to call you. I'll make a note right now on Outlook to call you back." "Can't you set it all up now?" "No, I have to waffle waffle waffle, website, waffle waffle, but I'll call you at 2pm on the dot, though, promise."
Yeah, right. No call. And tonight I tried sending myself email from work to test the webmail and they bounced, all of them. Sigh. A deal-breaker.
The other crowd was doing well despite its crappy webmail (no folders! no address book!) until I hit a brick wall trying to upload files to my FREE 100Mb webspace. Tonight I finally emailed them about it and was told it should be working ok. So I'll give that another go and see. If it works, they're in and the Weegie deadbeats are out. I'm desperate for a new home! To add to the sense of urgency, I'm being deluged by junk mail at my easynet address. It's the usual rubbish -- viagra, penis enlargement, cheap loans, hot babes, Nigerian scams -- and I'm blacklisting as fast as I can, but it keeps on coming.
In other news, Bertie's had another prang. I'm not sure what happened, because he didn't "announce" it until a few hours after our visit to Beecraigs Country Park on Monday. It must have happened there, though. Anyway, I dressed it myself, but he kicked up a ruckus and claimed (through sign language) that his leg might actually be broken, so I took him to the vet. She thought it might be cracked, the leg bone that is. She shot him full of painkillers and antibiotics and put on a great big bandage. He shrieked and trembled and carried on, wouldn't let her shave around the wound, so I feared the worst. But the next day he was fine! Malingerer.
I went to see Whale Rider, a fantastic film -- it made me really homesick. Pinky and I had a great holiday once on the East Coast and it brought it all back. I thought the film conveyed the sweep of contemporary Maori culture there without spelling it out: the hard-case old kuia who run the show behind the scenes, the proud older men trying to keep the past alive, the dispossessed younger adults who've lost their way, the exiles "making it" in the wider world, and the kids, the hope of the future. Fab.
The weather continues to be scorching -- by Scottish standards at least, the temperature's up to 24 regularly! I'm really enjoying having my breakfast outdoors every morning, and wearing sandals. Last summer, by contrast, it rained almost every day. I think I only breakfasted outdoors once. Of course every few days the Calvinist haar comes down to remind us not to get too complacent, but in general it's fantastic. I've been harvesting my raspberry bushes, fresh fruit and yoghurt, mmm.
I see in Europe it's been so hot they've had to shut down the Matterhorn -- glacier melt is causing rockfalls. And there are thunderstorms threatening down south.
16 July 2003
7 July 2003
:: visitation
Had a visitor today, an old friend from NZ (she's not old, the friendship is) who is now living in London. I haven't seen her since I was last over there, so it was great to catch up. She left with a head of garlic from my garden as a souvenir.
Another friend has just decided to take a job in Amsterdam -- she was worried about missing her many friends, but I assured her we'll all be over visiting her. I've been meaning to go back to Amsterdam for ages, it's one of my favourite cities.
Work hasn't been too frantic tonight -- Friday was diabolical, I was busy from start to finish. I do prefer to be busy but that was crazy. Everything's gone smoothly tonight (touch wood) and I even managed to get some advance pages done (graduation lists, nothing exciting).
Another friend has just decided to take a job in Amsterdam -- she was worried about missing her many friends, but I assured her we'll all be over visiting her. I've been meaning to go back to Amsterdam for ages, it's one of my favourite cities.
Work hasn't been too frantic tonight -- Friday was diabolical, I was busy from start to finish. I do prefer to be busy but that was crazy. Everything's gone smoothly tonight (touch wood) and I even managed to get some advance pages done (graduation lists, nothing exciting).
5 July 2003
:: some pix
Finally finally got round to downloading photos off my camera -- there were 109 of them! Just from a few weeks' noodling around, nothing special. First is from the day Andrew left Edinburgh -- I drove up to Perthshire behind him, and after a walk at the Hermitage, we had tea and cakes at a cafe in Dunkeld.
Andrew and Bertie at the Hermitage.
Bit of Americana -- no explanation for it, it was just there, deep in the woods.
The cakes! The one on the left is mainly marshmallow and cherries. The one on the right looked like a rocky road, with biscuits in it. But no -- those round things are Malteasers. They were amazingly sweet and gooey, both of them. Yum. The cafe is one of my favourites. It's run by an older couple who do everything in their own sweet time, so you have to be patient. But the food's good and the cakes! The cakes!
Another nice touch is that in the toilet, there are packets of tampons, panty liners and sanitary towels. Never seen that before in a cafe.
Finally, here are some roses from the field up the road:
Today I got the ladder out and trimmed the top of the hedge. Then I mowed the lawn. Then I weeded the front garden and hacked back the rose bush out there. Then I swept up. Then I washed the dishes. I've also had a couple of phoned conversations and walked the dog twice. I'm knackered! I'm going to have a hot bath and read my book.
Andrew and Bertie at the Hermitage.
Bit of Americana -- no explanation for it, it was just there, deep in the woods.
The cakes! The one on the left is mainly marshmallow and cherries. The one on the right looked like a rocky road, with biscuits in it. But no -- those round things are Malteasers. They were amazingly sweet and gooey, both of them. Yum. The cafe is one of my favourites. It's run by an older couple who do everything in their own sweet time, so you have to be patient. But the food's good and the cakes! The cakes!
Another nice touch is that in the toilet, there are packets of tampons, panty liners and sanitary towels. Never seen that before in a cafe.
Finally, here are some roses from the field up the road:
Today I got the ladder out and trimmed the top of the hedge. Then I mowed the lawn. Then I weeded the front garden and hacked back the rose bush out there. Then I swept up. Then I washed the dishes. I've also had a couple of phoned conversations and walked the dog twice. I'm knackered! I'm going to have a hot bath and read my book.
4 July 2003
:: a tidy kiwi
I'm having one of my periodic tidying fits -- long sessions with bin-bags and piles of old bills, magazines, Christmas cards, leaflets etc -- and it's boiling over into other areas. For a start today I got my gas and electricity organised so they'll be with the one supplier (ScottishPower -- take that, Scottish Gas!) and will be paid by direct debit. Phew. No more threatening letters when the bill disappears into the paper mountain. I almost cancelled Bertie's insurance because the premium shot up, but threatening to cancel brought a discount, hurrah. So he's still covered.
Next on the list is to get a grip on my website. At the moment I have four sites, would you believe it? Oh, and the blogspot. That's five. I haven't put anything on the latest one yet (it's a freebie), because I'm eyeing up another possibility. I've emailed them with a list of questions, and if their answers are good then I'm off to firefly, waving easynet goodbye. Sadly that will also mean saying goodbye to my domain name because they want £75 for letting me take it with me. Don't worry though, Hockadilly will live on elsewhere.
Footnote: I had a completely bizarre conversation with the ScottishPower woman.
"You're a long way from home!" she said perkily.
"This is my home," I replied.
"How long have you been here?"
"Thirteen years."
"Och, you've still got the accent though," she said in her strong Scottish one. "I've been here six years, myself."
"Where are you from?" I asked, startled.
"South Africa."
I marvelled at her accent, and she said when she talks to her folks back there she speaks in a South African accent.
"Your accent's is still strong, though," she said. "Where in South Africa are you from?"
"I'm a New Zealander."
"No! Really? You sound just like a South African!" This from a woman who sounded as if she was born and bred in Inverness!! It was weird.
The pet insurance lady was Indian, and I was sorely tempted to ask her if she was in India, because some of the call centres are. I don't think they're allowed to let on though.
Next on the list is to get a grip on my website. At the moment I have four sites, would you believe it? Oh, and the blogspot. That's five. I haven't put anything on the latest one yet (it's a freebie), because I'm eyeing up another possibility. I've emailed them with a list of questions, and if their answers are good then I'm off to firefly, waving easynet goodbye. Sadly that will also mean saying goodbye to my domain name because they want £75 for letting me take it with me. Don't worry though, Hockadilly will live on elsewhere.
Footnote: I had a completely bizarre conversation with the ScottishPower woman.
"You're a long way from home!" she said perkily.
"This is my home," I replied.
"How long have you been here?"
"Thirteen years."
"Och, you've still got the accent though," she said in her strong Scottish one. "I've been here six years, myself."
"Where are you from?" I asked, startled.
"South Africa."
I marvelled at her accent, and she said when she talks to her folks back there she speaks in a South African accent.
"Your accent's is still strong, though," she said. "Where in South Africa are you from?"
"I'm a New Zealander."
"No! Really? You sound just like a South African!" This from a woman who sounded as if she was born and bred in Inverness!! It was weird.
The pet insurance lady was Indian, and I was sorely tempted to ask her if she was in India, because some of the call centres are. I don't think they're allowed to let on though.
3 July 2003
:: hunting
Bertie's having such a great time at the moment -- there are rabbits and hedgehogs all over the place. The grass, clover and weeds in the big field up the road are nice and high, so the rabbits can't see him coming and can't speed away. The most exciting part -- from his point of view -- is that if he leaps through the grass he can literally jump on top of a rabbit. Today he did just that. The rabbit got away, of course, but he then became convinced there were more, exactly where that one had been. He was leaping along like an antelope, bounding over the grass in long flights with all his legs tucked up.
Last night it was a hedgehog: he carried it round for about ten minutes, dropping it every now and then to try and "open" it with his feet. No luck -- it stayed tightly rolled. It was a big one, not quite as big as one he caught a couple of years ago -- that was a monster -- but strong enough to survive Bertie. I'm hoping it didn't have ringworm. While he was messing with his hedgehog I came across another one hustling along the path. I rolled it away into the long grass.
We also go hunting at night. The other night he was rushing around sniffing out rabbits and I heard a twig snap in the trees. I shone the torch in that direction and sure enough, a pair of eyes lit up like lamps. A deer. It stood dazzled for a minute, then ran for it, crashing through the trees and down the bank, and landing with a barking cough before fleeing down the old railway track. Bertie was oblivious until I called him round to it had hit the footpath and he smelt it -- "hey! a deer!" No, you think so? While he was busy searching the area where the deer had been, I stumbled on a hedgehog, literally. I rolled it away into the long grass. See, I am a friend to wildlife! Bertie is such a madly inefficient hunter he mainly just gives them exercise.
Last night it was a hedgehog: he carried it round for about ten minutes, dropping it every now and then to try and "open" it with his feet. No luck -- it stayed tightly rolled. It was a big one, not quite as big as one he caught a couple of years ago -- that was a monster -- but strong enough to survive Bertie. I'm hoping it didn't have ringworm. While he was messing with his hedgehog I came across another one hustling along the path. I rolled it away into the long grass.
We also go hunting at night. The other night he was rushing around sniffing out rabbits and I heard a twig snap in the trees. I shone the torch in that direction and sure enough, a pair of eyes lit up like lamps. A deer. It stood dazzled for a minute, then ran for it, crashing through the trees and down the bank, and landing with a barking cough before fleeing down the old railway track. Bertie was oblivious until I called him round to it had hit the footpath and he smelt it -- "hey! a deer!" No, you think so? While he was busy searching the area where the deer had been, I stumbled on a hedgehog, literally. I rolled it away into the long grass. See, I am a friend to wildlife! Bertie is such a madly inefficient hunter he mainly just gives them exercise.
30 June 2003
:: fruity goodness
The raspberries are nearly ripe, so I threw some netting over them to keep the birds off. Mmmm, my mouth is watering ... I love raspberries. I may have to dig up the lawn and plant a raspberry forest. Chad's raspberries are already ripe, tsk. His allotment is much more open than my garden and is south-facing, so that might be it. Or it may be the high level of neglect and the overcrowding in my raspberry patch.
I planted some more beans at the weekend as well. I'd planted three previously but only one came up. It was immediately attacked by insects, so I sprayed it and it's finally grown high enough to start twining around the pole. So I should be eating my own beans sometime in December...
Pulled the first garlic at the weekend too -- but only after I'd strimmed its leaves off (a strimmer is a weedeater, kiwis). Coincidentally, I used the last of last year's garlic in a big pot of chili con carne that also featured home grown onions. Yes, indeedy, the world's most expensive onions. I planted 24 sets and so far have only harvested four onions. There are another four still struggling on, but one of them is only the size of a spring onion. It's Bertie's fault -- he trompled them down before I got around to putting up netting.
I'm going to rethink the garden layout over the winter. The vege bed isn't ideal, but the very best spot is also the very best spot for lying on with a book and a cold drink on hot, sunny days. I don't know if it's best to reposition the veges so there's a gap behind for Bertie to squeeze into for his keeping-an-eye-on-the-neighbours duties, or to build the bed up and barricade it thoroughly so he can't get in at all. At the moment the barricade makes it hard for me to get in and weed and so on, so it's a complete mess.
It needs some serious attention too: when I created the bed I used layers of newspaper to suppress weed growth. The paper was supposed to rot away like humus. Trouble is, it didn't, it's still there in thick, seedling-unfriendly wodges. So in the autumn, if I'm not going to move it, I'll need to give the whole bed a good seeing-to with the fork.
One radical idea is to cut back to just a big patch of garlic and maybe a few beans. And of course the fruit bushes. I'd like some plum trees too.
I planted some more beans at the weekend as well. I'd planted three previously but only one came up. It was immediately attacked by insects, so I sprayed it and it's finally grown high enough to start twining around the pole. So I should be eating my own beans sometime in December...
Pulled the first garlic at the weekend too -- but only after I'd strimmed its leaves off (a strimmer is a weedeater, kiwis). Coincidentally, I used the last of last year's garlic in a big pot of chili con carne that also featured home grown onions. Yes, indeedy, the world's most expensive onions. I planted 24 sets and so far have only harvested four onions. There are another four still struggling on, but one of them is only the size of a spring onion. It's Bertie's fault -- he trompled them down before I got around to putting up netting.
I'm going to rethink the garden layout over the winter. The vege bed isn't ideal, but the very best spot is also the very best spot for lying on with a book and a cold drink on hot, sunny days. I don't know if it's best to reposition the veges so there's a gap behind for Bertie to squeeze into for his keeping-an-eye-on-the-neighbours duties, or to build the bed up and barricade it thoroughly so he can't get in at all. At the moment the barricade makes it hard for me to get in and weed and so on, so it's a complete mess.
It needs some serious attention too: when I created the bed I used layers of newspaper to suppress weed growth. The paper was supposed to rot away like humus. Trouble is, it didn't, it's still there in thick, seedling-unfriendly wodges. So in the autumn, if I'm not going to move it, I'll need to give the whole bed a good seeing-to with the fork.
One radical idea is to cut back to just a big patch of garlic and maybe a few beans. And of course the fruit bushes. I'd like some plum trees too.
26 June 2003
:: vroom vroom!
I got a new toy! An electric hedge trimmer. I've only got one stretch of hedge, so I've put off getting one; but clipping by hand is so hard! I end up with jelly arms. So I got a Black & Decker cheapo.
Walking Bertie this morning I told another dog-walker about my new trimmer. "Have you got a cut-out switch?" he said sternly. Apparently I need a special gizmo in case I trim through the cable, to avoid being electrocuted. The gizmo trips the fuse or something, so you don't lie there jerking and smoking and upsetting the neighbours.
But I'm way hard! I don't need no cut-off switch! Well I do, but you know, I'm into instant gratification. So as soon as I got home I got the trimmer out of its box and plugged it in. Va va vroom!
Then I massacred the hedge. It's like cutting your own hair: "ooh, it's a bit crooked, I'll just even up this bit here..." and next thing you're half bald. Also, I didn't have time to get down the ladder and do the top, so it looks insane, especially from the upstairs windows. So quick, though! and so easy.
Walking Bertie this morning I told another dog-walker about my new trimmer. "Have you got a cut-out switch?" he said sternly. Apparently I need a special gizmo in case I trim through the cable, to avoid being electrocuted. The gizmo trips the fuse or something, so you don't lie there jerking and smoking and upsetting the neighbours.
But I'm way hard! I don't need no cut-off switch! Well I do, but you know, I'm into instant gratification. So as soon as I got home I got the trimmer out of its box and plugged it in. Va va vroom!
Then I massacred the hedge. It's like cutting your own hair: "ooh, it's a bit crooked, I'll just even up this bit here..." and next thing you're half bald. Also, I didn't have time to get down the ladder and do the top, so it looks insane, especially from the upstairs windows. So quick, though! and so easy.
19 June 2003
:: faye update
I wrote a screed in here and lost it -- Blogger is upgrading and I'm not quite used to the new look yet and managed to hit the wrong button. Hey ho.
Anyway, Faye phoned and yes, she is still alive! John, she was thrilled to get the jade, thank you. She promises to sit down some time soon, very soon, and write letters to everyone. It's just she's been having email problems. There's something wrong with her Yahoo account (not sure what, but she's sent lots of emails and none have arrived) and she can't plug in her Emailer because the gent she works for gets upset if anything new or different happens (he has Alzheimers). She's going to a) try and track down a cyber cafe in Reading and b) get her own phone line, or at least a socket.
She's fine, otherwise -- the job is good, much better than her last one, and she's enjoying getting to know the area. If anyone wants her address, please email me.
Anyway, Faye phoned and yes, she is still alive! John, she was thrilled to get the jade, thank you. She promises to sit down some time soon, very soon, and write letters to everyone. It's just she's been having email problems. There's something wrong with her Yahoo account (not sure what, but she's sent lots of emails and none have arrived) and she can't plug in her Emailer because the gent she works for gets upset if anything new or different happens (he has Alzheimers). She's going to a) try and track down a cyber cafe in Reading and b) get her own phone line, or at least a socket.
She's fine, otherwise -- the job is good, much better than her last one, and she's enjoying getting to know the area. If anyone wants her address, please email me.
:: open market
I was walking Bertie this afternoon, when a van coming towards me pulled up. This is normal in our street: often people are lost and need directions to Hopetoun House, Deep Sea World or some street I've never heard of.
But this time the driver said: "I don't know if you're interested, but we've just finished a delivery for Reid Furnishing and we had some left over. We've got a cream leather Italian three-piece suite we could let you have for less than it should be."
I said no thanks, he admired Bertie and off they went, heading for the marina.
We they just going to drive around offering the suite to people at random until they sold it? Was it stolen? Was the van stolen? Do I look like the kind of person who would buy a cream leather Italian three-piece suite off a couple of blokes in a van? Did they even have a suite?
In other news, Andrew is coming down this weekend. He's going to Glasgow on Friday night and probably will stay at his aunty's place in Edinburgh that night (they're up north at the moment). Then on Saturday we'll hang out. I called Kate and Robbie to see if they want to join us but they weren't in; I'll keep trying. Andrew's going back on Sunday, and I'm going to drive north after him and we'll go for a walk somewhere nice, like Dunkeld.
But this time the driver said: "I don't know if you're interested, but we've just finished a delivery for Reid Furnishing and we had some left over. We've got a cream leather Italian three-piece suite we could let you have for less than it should be."
I said no thanks, he admired Bertie and off they went, heading for the marina.
We they just going to drive around offering the suite to people at random until they sold it? Was it stolen? Was the van stolen? Do I look like the kind of person who would buy a cream leather Italian three-piece suite off a couple of blokes in a van? Did they even have a suite?
In other news, Andrew is coming down this weekend. He's going to Glasgow on Friday night and probably will stay at his aunty's place in Edinburgh that night (they're up north at the moment). Then on Saturday we'll hang out. I called Kate and Robbie to see if they want to join us but they weren't in; I'll keep trying. Andrew's going back on Sunday, and I'm going to drive north after him and we'll go for a walk somewhere nice, like Dunkeld.
17 June 2003
:: the green room
Some snaps:
That's me in the mirror.
The walls don't look as yellowy-green as they do in real life.
This is one I took just after I'd finished painting, before the furniture went back in.
That's me in the mirror.
The walls don't look as yellowy-green as they do in real life.
This is one I took just after I'd finished painting, before the furniture went back in.
15 June 2003
:: clonk
After all my moaning about being too busy, blah blah blah, guess what I did yesterday afternoon? I read a book in the sun, then I slept in the sun. It was lovely. I felt refreshed by it. Earlier I'd taken Bertie on a very long walk in the hot sun & he'd conked out. I was just having a sit-down with a cold drink and a book before getting busy in the garden.
Yeah, right.
Suddenly it was half past five, and time for another walk. I still haven't done any more gardening, but I really must -- I noticed this morning that the aphids have moved on to the honeysuckle flowers. I've never seen that before! Another mad thing that's happening is the rose bush out the front. Last year I carefully pruned it again, but didn't feed it. I'd pruned and fed it the previous year, and I think I read somewhere you shouldn't feed them too much. But lo and behold, it grew an astounding amount of foliage -- much, much more than last year. And this week, out came the flowers: not pink tea roses like last year, but single wild-rose type blooms. This is obviously the root-stock going rampant. But why this year? I'm baffled. There are a few pink roses struggling through, but mostly it's white. It may be time to grub up the whole bush and put in something else. I'd love a philadelphus, or mock orange, it has a wonderful smell.
Yeah, right.
Suddenly it was half past five, and time for another walk. I still haven't done any more gardening, but I really must -- I noticed this morning that the aphids have moved on to the honeysuckle flowers. I've never seen that before! Another mad thing that's happening is the rose bush out the front. Last year I carefully pruned it again, but didn't feed it. I'd pruned and fed it the previous year, and I think I read somewhere you shouldn't feed them too much. But lo and behold, it grew an astounding amount of foliage -- much, much more than last year. And this week, out came the flowers: not pink tea roses like last year, but single wild-rose type blooms. This is obviously the root-stock going rampant. But why this year? I'm baffled. There are a few pink roses struggling through, but mostly it's white. It may be time to grub up the whole bush and put in something else. I'd love a philadelphus, or mock orange, it has a wonderful smell.
14 June 2003
:: whisking right along
I'm going to stop apologising for not writing more often ... it takes up too much time!
So, highlights: lots of work. I'm getting used to the livingroom & it doesn't look too bad really. I did at one point get the photos of it open ready to resize and upload, and then was distracted by something or other (probably realising it was nearly time to leave for work and I still hadn't had a shower or walked the dog). The garden is going rampant except for the blackcurrants, which have been eaten nearly to death by aphids. Or something aphid-like. Weather: hot and muggy. Always windless on my days off.
Bertie's fine. Amusing annecdote: The other day on our regular morning walk Bertie found something disgusting -- large, dark, floppy, possibly animal in origin -- and ate it. I couldn't tell what it was because though I ran after him screaming, he sprinted ahead and crunched it down. Oh yes, it crunched. Later that same day a colleague was telling me he'd walked his dog in Queensferry and I told him about Bertie's snack. "Oh, it was a rabbit," the colleague said. "Ozzy [his dog] had a look at it." Ewww!! Small world. No digestive repercussions for Bertie, thank goodness.
Faye is alive and well and living in a village near Reading. Anyone wanting her address and phone number, see me.
It's time to go home, whew. This has been a particularly gruelling day -- I got called in early because whoever was meant to do the Birthday Honours List for the paper was off and hadn't told anyone it was happening and I'm one of the few people who knows how to do it. Knowledge is power, I muttered to myself as I beavered away, eyeballs burning. Ach well, it's a living.
So, highlights: lots of work. I'm getting used to the livingroom & it doesn't look too bad really. I did at one point get the photos of it open ready to resize and upload, and then was distracted by something or other (probably realising it was nearly time to leave for work and I still hadn't had a shower or walked the dog). The garden is going rampant except for the blackcurrants, which have been eaten nearly to death by aphids. Or something aphid-like. Weather: hot and muggy. Always windless on my days off.
Bertie's fine. Amusing annecdote: The other day on our regular morning walk Bertie found something disgusting -- large, dark, floppy, possibly animal in origin -- and ate it. I couldn't tell what it was because though I ran after him screaming, he sprinted ahead and crunched it down. Oh yes, it crunched. Later that same day a colleague was telling me he'd walked his dog in Queensferry and I told him about Bertie's snack. "Oh, it was a rabbit," the colleague said. "Ozzy [his dog] had a look at it." Ewww!! Small world. No digestive repercussions for Bertie, thank goodness.
Faye is alive and well and living in a village near Reading. Anyone wanting her address and phone number, see me.
It's time to go home, whew. This has been a particularly gruelling day -- I got called in early because whoever was meant to do the Birthday Honours List for the paper was off and hadn't told anyone it was happening and I'm one of the few people who knows how to do it. Knowledge is power, I muttered to myself as I beavered away, eyeballs burning. Ach well, it's a living.
6 June 2003
: I am still alive!
I've just been busy, that's all. I had a few days off recently, during which I finally painted the livingroom. It wasn't a great success -- I couldn't bring myself to scrape the textured wallpaper off because I knew that underneath it would be all nicotine-stained and need serious scrubbing. But painting over the paper didn't turn out to be a particularly easy option: I had to use a brush and kind of stipple the paint on, to get into all the little crevices. And it used up twice as much paint as I'd anticipated.
Finally, though, after two gruelling days, I stood and contemplated four freshly painted walls. And thought -- "I don't like it."
It's supposed to be the same colour as my old flat, a warm pale green, but it looks more yellowish lime. I've taken some photos, including one from outside the room that shows how when the sun is shining, the room actually looks radioactive. I think light is the key -- the house is so much lighter than my flat was, sunk in the gloom of an Old Town gully.
However! I am not going to repaint so I will just have to thole it. It does look a bit better with all the furniture, pictures etc back in.
Also on my days off I did a major tidy-up in the garden, mowing and weeding like a fiend as the thunder grumbled. And I went to an exhibition of Mario Testino photos with Fiona, and to The Matrix Reloaded, and I visited Kate and Robbie and wee Calum (who is doing well) and went on lots of walks.
Since then I've been cleaning up after painting, moving furniture etc, walking the dog and trying to find new fittings for the curtains. Oh, and working!
Finally, though, after two gruelling days, I stood and contemplated four freshly painted walls. And thought -- "I don't like it."
It's supposed to be the same colour as my old flat, a warm pale green, but it looks more yellowish lime. I've taken some photos, including one from outside the room that shows how when the sun is shining, the room actually looks radioactive. I think light is the key -- the house is so much lighter than my flat was, sunk in the gloom of an Old Town gully.
However! I am not going to repaint so I will just have to thole it. It does look a bit better with all the furniture, pictures etc back in.
Also on my days off I did a major tidy-up in the garden, mowing and weeding like a fiend as the thunder grumbled. And I went to an exhibition of Mario Testino photos with Fiona, and to The Matrix Reloaded, and I visited Kate and Robbie and wee Calum (who is doing well) and went on lots of walks.
Since then I've been cleaning up after painting, moving furniture etc, walking the dog and trying to find new fittings for the curtains. Oh, and working!
25 May 2003
:: pix
I finally cobbled together a page of photos of my holiday on Halki. I had been working on a more complex setup with words as well as pictures, but it was a dog's breakfast so I ended up doing just a simple array of thumbnails with captions.
I was going to do a separate page of words this afternoon, but when I got back from walking the dog nothing electrical in the house worked. Phone, fridge, tv, video, computer, stereo, kettle, lights -- all dead. The power company says it'll be fixed by 6pm, which is no use to me: no video of the first episode of the new series of Six Feet Under, wah! Or the second episode of the new political thriller State of Play. Oh well.
When we went out for another walk (couldn't even mow the lawn, my mower's electric!), there was a large lady rummaging around in the substation cupboard thingie up the road, so hopefully the cut will be fixed before our freezers all defrost.
I was going to do a separate page of words this afternoon, but when I got back from walking the dog nothing electrical in the house worked. Phone, fridge, tv, video, computer, stereo, kettle, lights -- all dead. The power company says it'll be fixed by 6pm, which is no use to me: no video of the first episode of the new series of Six Feet Under, wah! Or the second episode of the new political thriller State of Play. Oh well.
When we went out for another walk (couldn't even mow the lawn, my mower's electric!), there was a large lady rummaging around in the substation cupboard thingie up the road, so hopefully the cut will be fixed before our freezers all defrost.
20 May 2003
:: back home!
I got back from Greece at nearly 1am on Thursday, went up to Inverness on the train that day, then came back here on Saturday. I had Sunday off, and was back at work today (ok yesterday, as it's after midnight).
I've started making a web page with some of my photos from Halki, it should be ready to go in the next couple of days.
I had a wonderful time -- lots of sun, sea and good food. Bertie also had a great holiday -- he nearly caught a hare!
I'll email everyone when I post the pictures.
I've started making a web page with some of my photos from Halki, it should be ready to go in the next couple of days.
I had a wonderful time -- lots of sun, sea and good food. Bertie also had a great holiday -- he nearly caught a hare!
I'll email everyone when I post the pictures.
3 May 2003
:: I'm so tired
I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired.
Finished work this morning (Friday) at 5:45am, after a 6pm start. Drove home, stopping off en route to fill up on diesel and coolant (a red light came on on the dashboard, I had to look it up in the owner's manual!). Went straight to bed (in the spare room, due to the roofer having decided that Friday morning was an ideal time to replace my spouting). Slept fitfully -- I never sleep well when I'm overtired. Woke at 11:30am. Found message from gas man and phoned him; he wanted to come round right away. Argh. No sign of the roofers -- just a ladder leaning against the wall.
Had breakfast. Snarled at gas man and gas man's helper. Left them to get on with boiler inspection while I had a shower. Phoned roofer and got lowdown on what their plans were (work will be finished tomorrow), phoned Jenny re Bertie, who was sleeping over. She said she'd be right back. Snarled goodbye to gas men. Jenny and Bertie arrived in rainstorm. Made tea and chatted. Roofer had meanwhile arrived but was sitting in his van. Later he ventured out and set to work painting the new spouting. Jenny headed off and I took Bertie for a quick walk before heading off to work, an hour early due to minor crisis there.
Tonight was horrendous, beyond horrendous. I had to do my usual job, plus full-on tech support for a team of three subs who are really struggling with the new software, plus pull in the full results for the Scottish elections and fix the broken coding. I was on the go from the minute I got in until about five minutes before I started this. I managed to grab a sandwich at about 10pm, but didn't have a break before then.
Compared to that, the 12-hour election stint was a doddle. I had a sharp cookie helping me, and the coding on the results wasn't broken, so there was no problem running them in. The company laid on snacks and coffee, and a chef came in and whipped up bacon and egg sandwiches at 5:30am. There's always a great atmosphere on election night, a real buzz. But tonight was just a long grind.
Anyway, the good news is that the software changeover has been delayed for a week, so I won't have to work tomorrow. I'm still going out to dinner with my colleagues tomorrow night though, and I'm still going to train the staff at the Westminster office before I go to Greece. I'm so happy not to be working tomorrow! I have so many little things to do I really need the extra time.
Speaking of time, it's time to go home!
Finished work this morning (Friday) at 5:45am, after a 6pm start. Drove home, stopping off en route to fill up on diesel and coolant (a red light came on on the dashboard, I had to look it up in the owner's manual!). Went straight to bed (in the spare room, due to the roofer having decided that Friday morning was an ideal time to replace my spouting). Slept fitfully -- I never sleep well when I'm overtired. Woke at 11:30am. Found message from gas man and phoned him; he wanted to come round right away. Argh. No sign of the roofers -- just a ladder leaning against the wall.
Had breakfast. Snarled at gas man and gas man's helper. Left them to get on with boiler inspection while I had a shower. Phoned roofer and got lowdown on what their plans were (work will be finished tomorrow), phoned Jenny re Bertie, who was sleeping over. She said she'd be right back. Snarled goodbye to gas men. Jenny and Bertie arrived in rainstorm. Made tea and chatted. Roofer had meanwhile arrived but was sitting in his van. Later he ventured out and set to work painting the new spouting. Jenny headed off and I took Bertie for a quick walk before heading off to work, an hour early due to minor crisis there.
Tonight was horrendous, beyond horrendous. I had to do my usual job, plus full-on tech support for a team of three subs who are really struggling with the new software, plus pull in the full results for the Scottish elections and fix the broken coding. I was on the go from the minute I got in until about five minutes before I started this. I managed to grab a sandwich at about 10pm, but didn't have a break before then.
Compared to that, the 12-hour election stint was a doddle. I had a sharp cookie helping me, and the coding on the results wasn't broken, so there was no problem running them in. The company laid on snacks and coffee, and a chef came in and whipped up bacon and egg sandwiches at 5:30am. There's always a great atmosphere on election night, a real buzz. But tonight was just a long grind.
Anyway, the good news is that the software changeover has been delayed for a week, so I won't have to work tomorrow. I'm still going out to dinner with my colleagues tomorrow night though, and I'm still going to train the staff at the Westminster office before I go to Greece. I'm so happy not to be working tomorrow! I have so many little things to do I really need the extra time.
Speaking of time, it's time to go home!
26 April 2003
:: new shoes!
Buying shoes is a doddle compared to buying clothes. I went to Schuh, and got a pair of sneakers (Skecher Scooters, in caramel & cream suede) and a pair of stylee jandals (brown suede Schuhs, Birkenstock knock-offs with a formed footbed). It took about five minutes. Then I went to BhS and got a cheap straw hat. Having got the jandals I'm now thinking, hmmm, they'd look good with cropped trousers... oh dear.
Update on the dents on my legs (front of each thigh, about fingertip level, worst on the left leg): the doctor was completely baffled. She has no idea what's caused them and is going to consult her colleagues. I'll go back and see her after my holiday. I phoned the embolisation research sister & she talked to the radiologist and reported back that it probably wasn't anything to do with that, but is making an appointment for me in any case, "so she can reassure you". They don't hurt, so I'm not too worried, just curious.
Bertie hates his muzzle. It is cruel and unusual, and apparently he's never worn anything like it in his life. I make him wear it on our nightly excursion and he spends most of the walk trying to get it off. He looks like Hannibal Lecter:
Last night was particularly frustrating for him because when we set out on our walk there was a hedgehog strolling along the footpath right outside the gate.
Faye came round the other day and took Bertie out for a walk. She brought me some flowers, trilliums. The gardener where she works has offered me some plants, and I'd never heard of these. They're amazing!
This was my favourite, it's such a stunning colour; the other one is pretty too, white with plain pale green leaves.
Here are another couple of recent pictures:
I took this at Braid Hills a while back. I have no idea what it is. A man also walking his dog said he lives nearby and saw from his window someone putting it up. It's too big to be a splint, he thought. "Maybe it's art," I said. I can't reproduce the noise he made, but I think it's what the Victorians would write as "Pshaw!"
Some lovely colours on an ancient building on a jetty at Port Edgar.
Update on the dents on my legs (front of each thigh, about fingertip level, worst on the left leg): the doctor was completely baffled. She has no idea what's caused them and is going to consult her colleagues. I'll go back and see her after my holiday. I phoned the embolisation research sister & she talked to the radiologist and reported back that it probably wasn't anything to do with that, but is making an appointment for me in any case, "so she can reassure you". They don't hurt, so I'm not too worried, just curious.
Bertie hates his muzzle. It is cruel and unusual, and apparently he's never worn anything like it in his life. I make him wear it on our nightly excursion and he spends most of the walk trying to get it off. He looks like Hannibal Lecter:
Last night was particularly frustrating for him because when we set out on our walk there was a hedgehog strolling along the footpath right outside the gate.
Faye came round the other day and took Bertie out for a walk. She brought me some flowers, trilliums. The gardener where she works has offered me some plants, and I'd never heard of these. They're amazing!
This was my favourite, it's such a stunning colour; the other one is pretty too, white with plain pale green leaves.
Here are another couple of recent pictures:
I took this at Braid Hills a while back. I have no idea what it is. A man also walking his dog said he lives nearby and saw from his window someone putting it up. It's too big to be a splint, he thought. "Maybe it's art," I said. I can't reproduce the noise he made, but I think it's what the Victorians would write as "Pshaw!"
Some lovely colours on an ancient building on a jetty at Port Edgar.
22 April 2003
:: more catching up
I really am on a mad treadmill, organising this, that and the next thing. Today's ticks on the to-do list were: order a muzzle for Bertie, make a hair appointment and talk to returning officers about the constituency list results for the Scottish parliamentary elections.
Bertie's getting a muzzle because he's going to stay on the farm and the farm is home to approximately 12 cats, and some of them are geriatric.
Tomorrow's my day off and I've got appointments with the doctor and the dentist, what fun. These very odd "dents" have appeared on my legs and I'm getting them checked out; and I have intermittent toothache.
Next week is going to be wildly busy: I have Monday off, then I'm working right through to Saturday. I usually always have Saturdays off, but we'll be helping with the changeover to the new computer software. The election is on Thursday and I'll be working hard doing the results that day and Friday. Sunday Andrew comes down, Sunday night he drives me to the airport. I stay with David and Donna and hang out with them on Monday, which is a bank holiday. Then on Tuesday morning I go to Westminster to train our political staff (yes! on my holiday!); then over to Victoria to train the London reporter, then back to Westminster for the final reporter.
Wednesday morning I fly to Greece. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to a break!
The return journey is all worked out too: I arrive back at Gatwick on the 7th and get an easyJet flight straight away to Edinburgh. The next day I go to Inverness on the return half of Andrew's train ticket. Then on Friday or Saturday I drive back down in my car -- which Andrew will have driven up in. The whole arrangement is so finely tuned it's frightening.
I bought a pair of shorts on Saturday, least said about that the better. I hate buying clothes, it's traumatic. I tried on several skirts but ... I'm not really into skirts, and the ones that fit just look awful. Also, they all seem to be that fashionably pre-grubbied denim or heavy twill -- I'd want something a bit more floaty & floral to avoid looking like a diesel dyke. I can get by on what I've got in my wardrobe, but I do need a hat and some sandals. I shouldn't really wear sandals, because I can't wear my special insoles with them. But I'm hoping it'll be so wonderfully hot in Greece that I'll need sandals. And shorts.
Bertie's getting a muzzle because he's going to stay on the farm and the farm is home to approximately 12 cats, and some of them are geriatric.
Tomorrow's my day off and I've got appointments with the doctor and the dentist, what fun. These very odd "dents" have appeared on my legs and I'm getting them checked out; and I have intermittent toothache.
Next week is going to be wildly busy: I have Monday off, then I'm working right through to Saturday. I usually always have Saturdays off, but we'll be helping with the changeover to the new computer software. The election is on Thursday and I'll be working hard doing the results that day and Friday. Sunday Andrew comes down, Sunday night he drives me to the airport. I stay with David and Donna and hang out with them on Monday, which is a bank holiday. Then on Tuesday morning I go to Westminster to train our political staff (yes! on my holiday!); then over to Victoria to train the London reporter, then back to Westminster for the final reporter.
Wednesday morning I fly to Greece. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to a break!
The return journey is all worked out too: I arrive back at Gatwick on the 7th and get an easyJet flight straight away to Edinburgh. The next day I go to Inverness on the return half of Andrew's train ticket. Then on Friday or Saturday I drive back down in my car -- which Andrew will have driven up in. The whole arrangement is so finely tuned it's frightening.
I bought a pair of shorts on Saturday, least said about that the better. I hate buying clothes, it's traumatic. I tried on several skirts but ... I'm not really into skirts, and the ones that fit just look awful. Also, they all seem to be that fashionably pre-grubbied denim or heavy twill -- I'd want something a bit more floaty & floral to avoid looking like a diesel dyke. I can get by on what I've got in my wardrobe, but I do need a hat and some sandals. I shouldn't really wear sandals, because I can't wear my special insoles with them. But I'm hoping it'll be so wonderfully hot in Greece that I'll need sandals. And shorts.
16 April 2003
:: catching up
Where does the time go? Today, it went in hanging around waiting for the gas engineer who never came. I waited from noon until 6pm -- his window of opportunity -- and he didn't show. I called Scottish Gas several times and got various stories about where he was: mostly he was "en route to your premises", but sometimes he had been called out on an emergency and was "doing his best". "He might be trying to call you right now ma'am!" said one operative snippily.
My final, very angry call, got the horrid truth: the engineer had been listed as "en route to your premises" since 2pm. In other words, it was all a big lie. By this time I was not only angry, I was also two and a half hours late for work. And Bertie was beside himself with frustration -- "Let's go for a walk! Hey, isn't it time we went for a walk?" So after a fruitless conversation with the Scottish Gas operative ("As you've had a broken appointment, we can make a two-hour window for the next available appointment, on 24 April.") I wheeked Bertie round the park at top speed & roared off to work.
My head still hurts.
It was a pretty full-on weekend too; I built shelves into the alcove in the livingroom but didn't get to paint the room due to difficulties getting the right colour. Went out for dinner on Friday night with Fiona and a friend. That was funny: I was meant to meet them in a bar, which was very crowded. I scanned the mob, didn't see anyone familiar and went on to the restaurant. I was early there, so sat at the bar with a drink. When Fiona arrived, it turned out the woman I'd been sitting next to for ten minutes was her friend! She's fun and interesting, so it's a shame we didn't figure out our connection while we waited. The food was good too, simple and tasty.
I've ordered a pair of varifocal glasses -- old age, sigh. They're wildly expensive -- the "frames" are titanium -- but what the hell. I say "frames" because they're hardly that, they're just thin little shreds of wire to loop over my ears and another shred to hold the lenses apart over my nose. But being titanium, they're very strong, hypoallergenic shreds. And light! Very light.
I've organised the car insurance for Andrew's Cunning Plan -- only £17 to add him right through until July! A bargain.
Thanks for the wedding photos, Mum, some lovely shots there. I have to say I don't agree with you at all about the fringe, I think your hair looks great. You're altogether stylish -- great bone structure, nice suit!
My final, very angry call, got the horrid truth: the engineer had been listed as "en route to your premises" since 2pm. In other words, it was all a big lie. By this time I was not only angry, I was also two and a half hours late for work. And Bertie was beside himself with frustration -- "Let's go for a walk! Hey, isn't it time we went for a walk?" So after a fruitless conversation with the Scottish Gas operative ("As you've had a broken appointment, we can make a two-hour window for the next available appointment, on 24 April.") I wheeked Bertie round the park at top speed & roared off to work.
My head still hurts.
It was a pretty full-on weekend too; I built shelves into the alcove in the livingroom but didn't get to paint the room due to difficulties getting the right colour. Went out for dinner on Friday night with Fiona and a friend. That was funny: I was meant to meet them in a bar, which was very crowded. I scanned the mob, didn't see anyone familiar and went on to the restaurant. I was early there, so sat at the bar with a drink. When Fiona arrived, it turned out the woman I'd been sitting next to for ten minutes was her friend! She's fun and interesting, so it's a shame we didn't figure out our connection while we waited. The food was good too, simple and tasty.
I've ordered a pair of varifocal glasses -- old age, sigh. They're wildly expensive -- the "frames" are titanium -- but what the hell. I say "frames" because they're hardly that, they're just thin little shreds of wire to loop over my ears and another shred to hold the lenses apart over my nose. But being titanium, they're very strong, hypoallergenic shreds. And light! Very light.
I've organised the car insurance for Andrew's Cunning Plan -- only £17 to add him right through until July! A bargain.
Thanks for the wedding photos, Mum, some lovely shots there. I have to say I don't agree with you at all about the fringe, I think your hair looks great. You're altogether stylish -- great bone structure, nice suit!
8 April 2003
:: ms efficiency
In fits and starts, anyway. I made a strict list of phone numbers today and got through them all. Dental appointment: check. Optician appointment: check (bifocals this time ... I'm soooo old). Garage appointment: check. Vet appointment: check. Sister appointment: check. That last was to make sure Faye's coming round tomorrow to watch The Wedding Video -- Liz and Ken sent us a copy. Faye's going to sneak in early and take Bertie for a walk, then I'll whip up lunch once I get up and we'll sit down for a "Missing the Family" session.
I also phoned the car insurance people to check out Andrew's Cunning Plan for May, when I go to Greece. His idea is to come down the day before I leave, drive me to the airport, and then (eventually, once he's tired of the fleshpots of Auld Reekie) drive Bertie back to the farm. Then when I come back, I'll get the train or bus up there and drive Bertie home again. Cool plan, I like it. I haven't got a quote on the extra insurance, but it shouldn't be a huge amount.
Spring is blasting along at such a rate that I mowed the lawn today, the bit out the front. I haven't done the back yet -- it looks so awful I can't bear too. I should take a photo from the upstairs and put it here for you to see: it's a real dog-owner's lawn, a collection of bald patches interspersed with yellow patches. I read somewhere if you give the dog tomato juice to drink its pee doesn't yellow the grass and I tried it and it did seem to work, but unfortunately Bertie went right off tomato juice. I tried sprinkling it on his food and he went on hunger strike. Next thing to try is some weird chemical from the pet shop.
I'm still astounded by the war coverage: more "friendly fire" mayhem; still no sign of Weapons of Mass Destruction (although they did find thousands of boxes of white powder in a military complex; "initial tests indicate it is not a chemical weapon" -- soap powder then?); Saddam's ferocious elite Republican Guard turn out to be a bunch of cowardy custards; Saddam himself is nowhere to be seen.
My favourite story so far is the description of the paras entering Basra. Their commander got them all pumped up about the dangers of close urban combat: "You will need to use everything you learned in Northern Ireland and Pristina." They'd lost a couple of guys in a gunfight early in the day so were feeling scared anyway. Off they go, crouching and aiming their guns at anything suspicious. Next thing they're mobbed ... by kids! "Welcome, how are you?" And a lady going past in her car toots her horn and waves! No-one shoots at them at all. They go right into Saddam's palace and peer at his gold-plated loo-roll holder and marble shower. They find a huge warehouse stuffed full of machine guns and ammo and grenades. "This is more firepower than is held by a British batallion," said Major Duncan McSporran (no, I'm not making up his name). "It's sobering to think what a well-trained army with a bit of backbone could have done to us with all this." Oooooo! Duncan! That was mean!
I'm on late tonight, 3:30am finish. It was wildly busy earlier on, I didn't manage a break at all, but it should be reasonably quiet later.
I also phoned the car insurance people to check out Andrew's Cunning Plan for May, when I go to Greece. His idea is to come down the day before I leave, drive me to the airport, and then (eventually, once he's tired of the fleshpots of Auld Reekie) drive Bertie back to the farm. Then when I come back, I'll get the train or bus up there and drive Bertie home again. Cool plan, I like it. I haven't got a quote on the extra insurance, but it shouldn't be a huge amount.
Spring is blasting along at such a rate that I mowed the lawn today, the bit out the front. I haven't done the back yet -- it looks so awful I can't bear too. I should take a photo from the upstairs and put it here for you to see: it's a real dog-owner's lawn, a collection of bald patches interspersed with yellow patches. I read somewhere if you give the dog tomato juice to drink its pee doesn't yellow the grass and I tried it and it did seem to work, but unfortunately Bertie went right off tomato juice. I tried sprinkling it on his food and he went on hunger strike. Next thing to try is some weird chemical from the pet shop.
I'm still astounded by the war coverage: more "friendly fire" mayhem; still no sign of Weapons of Mass Destruction (although they did find thousands of boxes of white powder in a military complex; "initial tests indicate it is not a chemical weapon" -- soap powder then?); Saddam's ferocious elite Republican Guard turn out to be a bunch of cowardy custards; Saddam himself is nowhere to be seen.
My favourite story so far is the description of the paras entering Basra. Their commander got them all pumped up about the dangers of close urban combat: "You will need to use everything you learned in Northern Ireland and Pristina." They'd lost a couple of guys in a gunfight early in the day so were feeling scared anyway. Off they go, crouching and aiming their guns at anything suspicious. Next thing they're mobbed ... by kids! "Welcome, how are you?" And a lady going past in her car toots her horn and waves! No-one shoots at them at all. They go right into Saddam's palace and peer at his gold-plated loo-roll holder and marble shower. They find a huge warehouse stuffed full of machine guns and ammo and grenades. "This is more firepower than is held by a British batallion," said Major Duncan McSporran (no, I'm not making up his name). "It's sobering to think what a well-trained army with a bit of backbone could have done to us with all this." Oooooo! Duncan! That was mean!
I'm on late tonight, 3:30am finish. It was wildly busy earlier on, I didn't manage a break at all, but it should be reasonably quiet later.
4 April 2003
:: don't do drugs, n'kay? drugs are bad...
Click here for pictures of drugs so you know what to look out for. Just say NO!
(This one's real purty though ...)
(This one's real purty though ...)
:: write your own entry!!
I haven't been up to much lately, so if you're missing me, you could recreate a day in my life with this: The Apathetic Online Journal Entry Generator.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
:: you go, girls!
Peace-activist nun cites Bush in sabotage defence
By Keith Coffman
DENVER, April 3 (Reuters) – A Catholic nun told a US court on Thursday she was obeying President George W. Bush’s call to dismantle weapons of mass destruction when she and two other sisters trespassed at an unmanned missile silo in northern Colorado.
Sister Carolyn Gilbert and two other Dominican sisters, Jackie Hudson and Ardeth Platte, are charged with sabotage and malicious destruction of property relating to an Oct. 6 break-in at the Minuteman III silo near Greeley, Colorado.
Gilbert and Platte are peace activists in Baltimore, Maryland and Hudson does similar work in Bremerton, Washington.
Since the trial opened on Monday, peace activists have packed the federal courtroom in downtown Denver to support the nuns.
The three have said they cut cables and made the sign of the cross on the lid of the silo with their own blood before they were arrested by military police.
Platte told the court in an opening statement on Tuesday they wanted to protect the children of Iraq with a “symbolic disarmament.”
“Our president has asked that weapons of mass destruction be destroyed,” Gilbert told the court on Thursday.
“I had a duty, a responsibility and privilege to try and stop a crime, not only under God’s law, but under US and international law,” she said.
Bush, backed by Britain, launched a war against Iraq on March 19 for what he said was President Saddam Hussein’s refusal to dismantle weapons of mass destruction.
The nuns have been in jail since October after refusing to be released on bond.
US District Judge Robert Blackburn has said the women could not make use of the Nuremberg defence, which allows a citizen to break the law in order to prevent a crime against humanity.
If convicted, the women face up to 30 years in jail and fines of up to 250,000.
REUTERS
By Keith Coffman
DENVER, April 3 (Reuters) – A Catholic nun told a US court on Thursday she was obeying President George W. Bush’s call to dismantle weapons of mass destruction when she and two other sisters trespassed at an unmanned missile silo in northern Colorado.
Sister Carolyn Gilbert and two other Dominican sisters, Jackie Hudson and Ardeth Platte, are charged with sabotage and malicious destruction of property relating to an Oct. 6 break-in at the Minuteman III silo near Greeley, Colorado.
Gilbert and Platte are peace activists in Baltimore, Maryland and Hudson does similar work in Bremerton, Washington.
Since the trial opened on Monday, peace activists have packed the federal courtroom in downtown Denver to support the nuns.
The three have said they cut cables and made the sign of the cross on the lid of the silo with their own blood before they were arrested by military police.
Platte told the court in an opening statement on Tuesday they wanted to protect the children of Iraq with a “symbolic disarmament.”
“Our president has asked that weapons of mass destruction be destroyed,” Gilbert told the court on Thursday.
“I had a duty, a responsibility and privilege to try and stop a crime, not only under God’s law, but under US and international law,” she said.
Bush, backed by Britain, launched a war against Iraq on March 19 for what he said was President Saddam Hussein’s refusal to dismantle weapons of mass destruction.
The nuns have been in jail since October after refusing to be released on bond.
US District Judge Robert Blackburn has said the women could not make use of the Nuremberg defence, which allows a citizen to break the law in order to prevent a crime against humanity.
If convicted, the women face up to 30 years in jail and fines of up to 250,000.
REUTERS
30 March 2003
:: nautilus
Managed to stay indoors long enough today to put the finishing touches to Pinky's new website, or rather wedsite, haw haw.
It's like summer, it's so balmy. I keep remembering the year it snowed in April, however.
I got a quote from the roofer for renewing the spouting -- £430, yikes. That's for new cast-iron spouting and straps, however, plus for the fascia to be rubbed down and repainted. I'll call him to talk it over, but I assume I can't have plastic spouting on account of it being a terrace -- the spouting runs right across my place and Jim & Rosemary's, so it has to match up I guess. If the quote includes VAT (17.5%) I'll say yes, I think.
It's like summer, it's so balmy. I keep remembering the year it snowed in April, however.
I got a quote from the roofer for renewing the spouting -- £430, yikes. That's for new cast-iron spouting and straps, however, plus for the fascia to be rubbed down and repainted. I'll call him to talk it over, but I assume I can't have plastic spouting on account of it being a terrace -- the spouting runs right across my place and Jim & Rosemary's, so it has to match up I guess. If the quote includes VAT (17.5%) I'll say yes, I think.
28 March 2003
:: crayzee dog
Bertie had a very confusing walk today: I went into town to visit Kate and Calum in the afternoon, thinking I had plenty of time because I wasn't starting work until 6pm. But I forgot to factor in the rush hour! I don't do rush hour ... I'm always driving against the flow. So argh, here I was stuck in amongst everyone crawling home after work. Finally got back with five minutes to spare to walk Bertie before heading back INTO town. So I barrelled into the house yelling for him and he staggered downstairs bleary-eyed from his bed. I wouldn't even let him have a bite to eat, just leashed him and dragged him straight out the door.
I let him off the lead as we rushed up the path into the big field up the road. But lo and behold, who should be in the field knocking his football about but Daniel, the boy next door. Bertie obviously thought, "Aha! So this is what the big rush was all about!" and raced over to see him off. Daniel is used to Bertie -- he's been barked at before -- but this was extreme. Bertie ran round and round and round, building up a head of steam, then charged at Daniel full speed, before screeching to a halt and barking hysterically. He's too scared to get close, but he's a big muscly dog and he is LOUD. Added to that was all the mad running and leaping, and the fact that I couldn't catch him or shut him up or otherwise control him ... oh boy.
Finally Daniel shrugged and headed off down the track that leads to his back yard. Bertie calmed down enough for me to catch him and I dragged him home. This was the confusing part for him -- damn! I did what you wanted, why are you so cross?
Calum is doing well, by the way. He has more than one heart defect ... the narrowed aorta is the easiest to fix, but he's also got dodgy valves that will need complex surgery later on. But he's soooo cute! He's feeding well and putting on weight and looks fine.
Another nice sunny day today, but the haar has closed in tonight.
I let him off the lead as we rushed up the path into the big field up the road. But lo and behold, who should be in the field knocking his football about but Daniel, the boy next door. Bertie obviously thought, "Aha! So this is what the big rush was all about!" and raced over to see him off. Daniel is used to Bertie -- he's been barked at before -- but this was extreme. Bertie ran round and round and round, building up a head of steam, then charged at Daniel full speed, before screeching to a halt and barking hysterically. He's too scared to get close, but he's a big muscly dog and he is LOUD. Added to that was all the mad running and leaping, and the fact that I couldn't catch him or shut him up or otherwise control him ... oh boy.
Finally Daniel shrugged and headed off down the track that leads to his back yard. Bertie calmed down enough for me to catch him and I dragged him home. This was the confusing part for him -- damn! I did what you wanted, why are you so cross?
Calum is doing well, by the way. He has more than one heart defect ... the narrowed aorta is the easiest to fix, but he's also got dodgy valves that will need complex surgery later on. But he's soooo cute! He's feeding well and putting on weight and looks fine.
Another nice sunny day today, but the haar has closed in tonight.
26 March 2003
:: great posters
Link courtesy of Anthea: some wonderful anti-war posters.
In other news: yesterday I gave the shed doors a second coat and did the back door blue as well. While I was on a painting roll I did the big step outside the french doors -- tile red, not blue. It's all very tidy out there now. I also phoned a roofer about the spouting and he came this morning to have a look. He's going to replace the whole stretch of spouting and repaint the fascia underneath. As he pointed out, it's the only time the fascia gets a good paint so it's worth doing. It feels good to be getting all this work done -- I want the place to be shipshape.
I didn't do a lot else on my day off. The garden out the front needs a good seeing to, and it actually needs watering too. The weather has been astonishingly pleasant for the time of year. Last year it rained from February through to, don't know, October or something, and I've known it to snow in April. Today was almost summery, I was out in my shirt-sleeves. Back to the garden: I haven't tried out the flame-throwing weedkiller Faye gave me for Christmas -- maybe next week. Saturday I'm determined to go on an anti-war protest; Friday I start work early; and tomorrow I'm hoping to visit Kate.
In other news: yesterday I gave the shed doors a second coat and did the back door blue as well. While I was on a painting roll I did the big step outside the french doors -- tile red, not blue. It's all very tidy out there now. I also phoned a roofer about the spouting and he came this morning to have a look. He's going to replace the whole stretch of spouting and repaint the fascia underneath. As he pointed out, it's the only time the fascia gets a good paint so it's worth doing. It feels good to be getting all this work done -- I want the place to be shipshape.
I didn't do a lot else on my day off. The garden out the front needs a good seeing to, and it actually needs watering too. The weather has been astonishingly pleasant for the time of year. Last year it rained from February through to, don't know, October or something, and I've known it to snow in April. Today was almost summery, I was out in my shirt-sleeves. Back to the garden: I haven't tried out the flame-throwing weedkiller Faye gave me for Christmas -- maybe next week. Saturday I'm determined to go on an anti-war protest; Friday I start work early; and tomorrow I'm hoping to visit Kate.
25 March 2003
:: yikes
This just in:
Nature strikes back, I guess. Imagine, an epidemic of the common cold sweeping the planet.
Another lovely spring day, just right for painting the shed doors. They're finished, hurrah! Brian the builder phoned to see how I liked them & I gave them high praise. And now they're blue! And finished! I'm all fired up now, and will dedicate many more days off to DIY projects. First off though, is to get the spouting fixed. It'll start raining sooner or later and I'm tired of the back yard filling up with water.
I'm on the late shift tonight, here until 2:30am or so to get the latest war news in the paper. They're printing the final edition and we "slip" pages in on the run. Our front page picture is of a US tank with "Apocolypse" [sic] stenciled on its gunbarrel. I hope not...
ATLANTA (AP) – The mysterious and deadly flu-like illness from Asia that has stymied health officials around the world appears to be caused by a new variety of a common cold virus, US health officials said.
Nature strikes back, I guess. Imagine, an epidemic of the common cold sweeping the planet.
Another lovely spring day, just right for painting the shed doors. They're finished, hurrah! Brian the builder phoned to see how I liked them & I gave them high praise. And now they're blue! And finished! I'm all fired up now, and will dedicate many more days off to DIY projects. First off though, is to get the spouting fixed. It'll start raining sooner or later and I'm tired of the back yard filling up with water.
I'm on the late shift tonight, here until 2:30am or so to get the latest war news in the paper. They're printing the final edition and we "slip" pages in on the run. Our front page picture is of a US tank with "Apocolypse" [sic] stenciled on its gunbarrel. I hope not...
23 March 2003
:: cute!
Andrew and I went to see baby Calum in the hospital yesterday and he's gorgeous! Kate emailed today to say they were discharged this morning and he's doing fine. He didn't have to have surgery after all, though I gather it's not completely ruled out in future -- his aorta is a bit narrow apparently. Kate is very glad to be out of the hospital -- the neonatal unit is in the new one, and it's a strangely barren place.
After visiting Calum we headed north, to Tentsmuir and had a long walk up the beach, a little picnic and then back through the forest. Bertie was in heaven, it's one of his top places. Andrew has never been to St Andrews, so we stopped there and had a look round, then had a wonderful curry dinner at Balaka, a Bangladeshi restaurant. I had an Afghani lamb dish and it was subtle and rich, delicious to the last morsel.
A bit of madness through the meal was that we kept trying to text Andrew's cousin Grace, who we were to meet for drinks later on. Eventually she called, but the reception was bad and we kept getting cut off. So I switched the phone off, and we made contact later on. They were in Callander! Grace was tired after a long energetic day and begged off drinks, and we were pretty tired too so that was ok by us. We headed home and I managed to get slightly lost by dint of following two cars in front of us -- they ended up driving down a farm track! But we got home at about 9pm and collapsed on the sofa with a beer and the TV remote. Sooooo sophisticated!
Today I dropped Andrew off at his aunt and uncle's in Edinburgh and took Bertie for a walk in the Braid Hills, another top place. Lots of interesting new dogs, dog-friendly people, lovely weather and a stream to drink out of. Among the interesting dogs were two unusual sight hounds, a pharaoh hound and one I've never heard of before, a sloughi, a North African hunting dog. They were both lovely, and their owner and I had a great chat. Bertie wanted to play, but the sloughi was confined to a harness due to having once broken his neck (!) and the pharaoh was too delicate.
Next stop was the pet supermarket, where a voice said, "look, it's Bertie!" It was the owners of Shadow, Bertie's greyhound girlfriend. He's a legend in his own lunch-hour is Bertie, a well-kent face.
And now I'm at work, where we're very much on a war footing. I'm working my usual hours tonight, but for most of the rest of the week I'll be on a late start and late finish. Then on Friday I have a nice early start -- 2pm -- so I can start work on the Scottish election results. (The election's not until 1 May, but I have to make sure we have the right coding for when the results come in on the big night.)
I haven't been on any anti-war protests since war broke out, but if there's something on this week I'll go if possible. Pretty horrible news so far, so many "friendly fire" deaths, including a journalist. And then there's the US administration's outraged reaction to film on PoWs being paraded in Baghdad; what about the pictures of Iraqis being marched off after surrendering? Not to mention all the photos from Camp X-Ray...
After visiting Calum we headed north, to Tentsmuir and had a long walk up the beach, a little picnic and then back through the forest. Bertie was in heaven, it's one of his top places. Andrew has never been to St Andrews, so we stopped there and had a look round, then had a wonderful curry dinner at Balaka, a Bangladeshi restaurant. I had an Afghani lamb dish and it was subtle and rich, delicious to the last morsel.
A bit of madness through the meal was that we kept trying to text Andrew's cousin Grace, who we were to meet for drinks later on. Eventually she called, but the reception was bad and we kept getting cut off. So I switched the phone off, and we made contact later on. They were in Callander! Grace was tired after a long energetic day and begged off drinks, and we were pretty tired too so that was ok by us. We headed home and I managed to get slightly lost by dint of following two cars in front of us -- they ended up driving down a farm track! But we got home at about 9pm and collapsed on the sofa with a beer and the TV remote. Sooooo sophisticated!
Today I dropped Andrew off at his aunt and uncle's in Edinburgh and took Bertie for a walk in the Braid Hills, another top place. Lots of interesting new dogs, dog-friendly people, lovely weather and a stream to drink out of. Among the interesting dogs were two unusual sight hounds, a pharaoh hound and one I've never heard of before, a sloughi, a North African hunting dog. They were both lovely, and their owner and I had a great chat. Bertie wanted to play, but the sloughi was confined to a harness due to having once broken his neck (!) and the pharaoh was too delicate.
Next stop was the pet supermarket, where a voice said, "look, it's Bertie!" It was the owners of Shadow, Bertie's greyhound girlfriend. He's a legend in his own lunch-hour is Bertie, a well-kent face.
And now I'm at work, where we're very much on a war footing. I'm working my usual hours tonight, but for most of the rest of the week I'll be on a late start and late finish. Then on Friday I have a nice early start -- 2pm -- so I can start work on the Scottish election results. (The election's not until 1 May, but I have to make sure we have the right coding for when the results come in on the big night.)
I haven't been on any anti-war protests since war broke out, but if there's something on this week I'll go if possible. Pretty horrible news so far, so many "friendly fire" deaths, including a journalist. And then there's the US administration's outraged reaction to film on PoWs being paraded in Baghdad; what about the pictures of Iraqis being marched off after surrendering? Not to mention all the photos from Camp X-Ray...
22 March 2003
:: what a week
So I went to London with zero sleep, trained our writers there (who were grateful), wandered the streets of Soho and Chinatown marvelling at how crowded, dirty and rushed London is, ate a big bowl of noodle soup with char siu, then went back to Edinburgh. I was quite spaced out a lot of the time and tended to fall asleep any time I sat down. Once home I pretty much just crashed, after a hot bath (fell asleep in that too).
Next day I had my appointment with the radiologist, the sidekick Dr Ingram. Turns out the fibroids haven't shrunk much at all. She wasn't surprised, given that I hadn't suffered much pain. No pain, no gain! Or no shrinkage in this case. So I may be looking at having another go at embolisation or giving up entirely and having a hysterectomy. Depends how the symptoms develop. Sigh.
Then I had coffee with Faye, who's now settled in at Pennicuik. Her new employer is the worst person she's ever met in her life, apparently -- very autocratic and rude. But the hours and pay are good and it's a lovely spot.
That evening Bertie arrived back from his Dunfermline mini-break and appeared to not be overjoyed. To say the least. I think he'd like to be Colin and Jenny's dog, though Colin swears he wasn't spoiled. Huh. After walking him I was shattered so it was a bath and early to bed for me.
Yesterday was mainly spent cleaning, changing sheets and grocery shopping. Yes, a visitor! Andrew arrived last night just as I was starting work, and he's staying until Sunday. Today we had a chat-fest catching up on every little thing while I painted the new shed doors with primer. I wanted to get that done before it rains & today was lovely and sunny.
In between all this busyness, war has broken out. Tonight I was meant to come in at 6pm and work through until 3.30am. So I'd done the painting and Andrew had headed off to town and I'd had lunch and was just gearing down for a couple of hours of rest and relaxation when the phone went. It was my boss, telling me to come in at the usual time, 4pm, as they weren't going to do late editions. Oh, ok. I quickly changed and walked the dog and rushed in. Then they changed their minds and now I'm here until 2.30am. Sigh. Luckily Andrew was able to walk Bertie tonight.
It was horrible watching the missiles raining down on Baghdad on TV tonight, the whole thing is awful. But there's also something sinister going on elsewhere in Iraq. Turkey is sending troops in to sort out the Kurds. The Kurds have an autonomous area in Iraq and have suffered massively under Saddam's regime. They're the ones he gassed that time; they've also been tortured and shot. There were reports of them being pleased about the US assault, because it will get rid of Saddam. But I think they've maybe been sold down the river -- I'm afraid the Turks will be just as murderous. The reports say the US is against the Turks going in, but I'm not sure I believe them; the US I mean. I think there was probably a wink and a nudge.
Next day I had my appointment with the radiologist, the sidekick Dr Ingram. Turns out the fibroids haven't shrunk much at all. She wasn't surprised, given that I hadn't suffered much pain. No pain, no gain! Or no shrinkage in this case. So I may be looking at having another go at embolisation or giving up entirely and having a hysterectomy. Depends how the symptoms develop. Sigh.
Then I had coffee with Faye, who's now settled in at Pennicuik. Her new employer is the worst person she's ever met in her life, apparently -- very autocratic and rude. But the hours and pay are good and it's a lovely spot.
That evening Bertie arrived back from his Dunfermline mini-break and appeared to not be overjoyed. To say the least. I think he'd like to be Colin and Jenny's dog, though Colin swears he wasn't spoiled. Huh. After walking him I was shattered so it was a bath and early to bed for me.
Yesterday was mainly spent cleaning, changing sheets and grocery shopping. Yes, a visitor! Andrew arrived last night just as I was starting work, and he's staying until Sunday. Today we had a chat-fest catching up on every little thing while I painted the new shed doors with primer. I wanted to get that done before it rains & today was lovely and sunny.
In between all this busyness, war has broken out. Tonight I was meant to come in at 6pm and work through until 3.30am. So I'd done the painting and Andrew had headed off to town and I'd had lunch and was just gearing down for a couple of hours of rest and relaxation when the phone went. It was my boss, telling me to come in at the usual time, 4pm, as they weren't going to do late editions. Oh, ok. I quickly changed and walked the dog and rushed in. Then they changed their minds and now I'm here until 2.30am. Sigh. Luckily Andrew was able to walk Bertie tonight.
It was horrible watching the missiles raining down on Baghdad on TV tonight, the whole thing is awful. But there's also something sinister going on elsewhere in Iraq. Turkey is sending troops in to sort out the Kurds. The Kurds have an autonomous area in Iraq and have suffered massively under Saddam's regime. They're the ones he gassed that time; they've also been tortured and shot. There were reports of them being pleased about the US assault, because it will get rid of Saddam. But I think they've maybe been sold down the river -- I'm afraid the Turks will be just as murderous. The reports say the US is against the Turks going in, but I'm not sure I believe them; the US I mean. I think there was probably a wink and a nudge.
17 March 2003
:: I must be mad
It seems logical now, but I suspect that 12 hours from now I'll be regretting it. The big fly in the ointment was the phone message waiting when I got home last night. It was the builder, saying he couldn't make it on Thursday, would it be ok if he came this morning instead? Well I didn't get the message until 1:30am, so it just had to be ok. He said 8:15am but didn't actually arrive until 8:45, so hurrah, an extra half hour's sleep.
But no more than that, because my bedroom's at the back and the guy is drilling and sawing and so on. I phoned work to check the time for my flight tomorrow morning, so I could order a taxi. The flight's at 6:10am; the taxi firm says check-in's an hour before flight time in these terror-stricken times, so I ordered the taxi for 5am.
So then GW Bush decides to make his statement at 1am UK time, presumably ordering the attack on Iraq to begin. That's normally our fifth edition deadline, so they made arrangements to "slip" pages (change them during the print run) after that until 3:30am. So either my colleague or I has to stay until 3:30am. I figure if I leave work at 1am I'll get barely any sleep anyway, so I may as well be here. Then I'll go home and have a shower, ready for the flight to London.
See? That's logical, isn't it?
Bertie's off in Dunfermline already, enjoying a mini-break with Colin and Jenny. He'll stay tonight and tomorrow night, and I'll get him back on Wednesday evening, after my appointment with the radiologist and a coffee date with Faye. That's great, because it means I can have a really good sleep tomorrow night, without having to get up and walk the dog.
The shed doors are looking pretty good. The joiner is a lovely bloke, very smiley. He was very taken with Bertie because he grew up with a racing greyhound as a pet, a "blue" one (gray actually, but it's called blue). He didn't completely finish before he left because the builder left him with bathroom handles for the doors -- which of course only lock from the inside. "All right if you're living in there," he said. And of course there would be the added advantage of the "engaged" sign. He's coming back tomorrow to fit the right handles, and then I'll just have to varnish or paint them and they're finished! He's sealed all round the jamb with silicon gunk so they're good and weather-tight.
But no more than that, because my bedroom's at the back and the guy is drilling and sawing and so on. I phoned work to check the time for my flight tomorrow morning, so I could order a taxi. The flight's at 6:10am; the taxi firm says check-in's an hour before flight time in these terror-stricken times, so I ordered the taxi for 5am.
So then GW Bush decides to make his statement at 1am UK time, presumably ordering the attack on Iraq to begin. That's normally our fifth edition deadline, so they made arrangements to "slip" pages (change them during the print run) after that until 3:30am. So either my colleague or I has to stay until 3:30am. I figure if I leave work at 1am I'll get barely any sleep anyway, so I may as well be here. Then I'll go home and have a shower, ready for the flight to London.
See? That's logical, isn't it?
Bertie's off in Dunfermline already, enjoying a mini-break with Colin and Jenny. He'll stay tonight and tomorrow night, and I'll get him back on Wednesday evening, after my appointment with the radiologist and a coffee date with Faye. That's great, because it means I can have a really good sleep tomorrow night, without having to get up and walk the dog.
The shed doors are looking pretty good. The joiner is a lovely bloke, very smiley. He was very taken with Bertie because he grew up with a racing greyhound as a pet, a "blue" one (gray actually, but it's called blue). He didn't completely finish before he left because the builder left him with bathroom handles for the doors -- which of course only lock from the inside. "All right if you're living in there," he said. And of course there would be the added advantage of the "engaged" sign. He's coming back tomorrow to fit the right handles, and then I'll just have to varnish or paint them and they're finished! He's sealed all round the jamb with silicon gunk so they're good and weather-tight.
16 March 2003
:: speechless
'Talking fish' stuns New York
So what do you do when you find a talking fish? You kill it and sell it, of course.
So what do you do when you find a talking fish? You kill it and sell it, of course.
14 March 2003
:: tinkering
I made some minor changes to Pinky's latest website -- as well as putting the extra shell in, I've added her headshot and fiddled with the picture-gallery page.
Today is truly spring -- warm, sunny, just wonderful. So wonderful I rushed out and tidied the garden up a bit. As well as a spot of weeding, I swept the back yard, cleaned up the dog poo and put some more stakes in to keep Bertie off the extremely feeble onion patch. Only half a dozen plants are still struggling to grow, the rest have been trampled. The garlic is sturdier, it's growing like nobody's business, and the blackcurrant bushes I transplanted are looking brilliant. Spring! I love spring.
The builder says the joiner will probably come next Thursday. He'll give me a ring on Wednesday to confirm. Yeah, right.
Today is truly spring -- warm, sunny, just wonderful. So wonderful I rushed out and tidied the garden up a bit. As well as a spot of weeding, I swept the back yard, cleaned up the dog poo and put some more stakes in to keep Bertie off the extremely feeble onion patch. Only half a dozen plants are still struggling to grow, the rest have been trampled. The garlic is sturdier, it's growing like nobody's business, and the blackcurrant bushes I transplanted are looking brilliant. Spring! I love spring.
The builder says the joiner will probably come next Thursday. He'll give me a ring on Wednesday to confirm. Yeah, right.
13 March 2003
:: dogsitting deluxe
Colin is going to mind Bertie while I'm in London. I thought he could just pop in to walk him at some point in the middle of the day, but no, he's taking full advantage of the opportunity for some quality dog time. So Bertie's being collected on Monday night (after a key exchange at work) and will possibly stay over until Wednesday -- this is because Colin's partner Jenny is away on Tuesday too, and won't see Bertie unless he stays over another night. Yes, he is that popular.
:: btw
I did sign up to Abelgratis and got my free webspace. Haven't done anything much with it yet though.
:: wedding blues
Someone else is having a wedding, I've got the blues. Waaaaah! Liz and Ken are getting hitched and I'm not there, waaaaah! I've got a copy of the ceremony though, so I could always get up at 6.30am (or is that 7.30am?) and read it out loud while drinking champagne and crying. My wee niece! I remember changing her nappies and now she's all grown up! Sniffle, sob. Yes, I know she's been all grown up for at least ten years, but she's getting maaaaried!
So that's Saturday, kiwi time. Sigh. I hope everyone has a wonderful time, and I also hope there's a video. Sigh.
Back in Britain, life is pretty frenetic. I got a letter today from the radiologist, Dr Gillespie, saying I hadn't turned up for the appointment with him on the 5th. Uh? But then they'd realised the appointment letter had been sent to my old address, so they've made me a new appointment for next Wednesday. This is to look at the latest scans.
Also next week, I'm to go down to London for a day to train the staff at our City office in the new software. Timetable: finish work at 1am, drive home, sleep for five minutes, leave home 6am or so to catch plane at 6.40am, battle through London traffic to office, train staff, have lunch, battle through London traffic to airport, fly home. This is on Tuesday. I'll have to get someone to mind Bertie for the day. It was supposed to be my day off, and I was meeting Faye for lunch but we'll have to put that off until Wednesday, which is now my day off. The day I have the appt with Dr Gillespie.
No sign of the joiner, I bet he wants to come on Tuesday. Or Wednesday.
So that's Saturday, kiwi time. Sigh. I hope everyone has a wonderful time, and I also hope there's a video. Sigh.
Back in Britain, life is pretty frenetic. I got a letter today from the radiologist, Dr Gillespie, saying I hadn't turned up for the appointment with him on the 5th. Uh? But then they'd realised the appointment letter had been sent to my old address, so they've made me a new appointment for next Wednesday. This is to look at the latest scans.
Also next week, I'm to go down to London for a day to train the staff at our City office in the new software. Timetable: finish work at 1am, drive home, sleep for five minutes, leave home 6am or so to catch plane at 6.40am, battle through London traffic to office, train staff, have lunch, battle through London traffic to airport, fly home. This is on Tuesday. I'll have to get someone to mind Bertie for the day. It was supposed to be my day off, and I was meeting Faye for lunch but we'll have to put that off until Wednesday, which is now my day off. The day I have the appt with Dr Gillespie.
No sign of the joiner, I bet he wants to come on Tuesday. Or Wednesday.
12 March 2003
:: back to the minutae ...
Today and yesterday I finally got the quote for the shed doors sorted out and cleaned the carpets. Whew. The quote for the doors was £275. I had been hoping for £300 but expecting more, so I was thrilled it was less. That's for everything -- two fire doors cut to size, new "stannards" (jambs, I think), locks fitted, the lot. The joiner will probably do them Thursday or Friday. He will start at 8am. In the morning.
The carpet steaming worked reasonably well, especially in the hall. I might have another go at a couple of other patches. While I was at it I cleaned the floors downstairs too and did all my laundry and ironing. The house is gleaming! Apart from the bits I didn't dust.
Last night I went to see Far From Heaven, which I loved. It's set in the 50s and it's done just like a 50s movie, with stilted dialogue ("Say, Pop, guess what I did at school today?) and fabulous clothes. But unlike 50s movies it deals more honestly with attitudes to race and homosexuality. I read and heard a lot of opinions on the film before I went and didn't really agree with any of it, though they were all different. I think a lot of younger people can't understand that the main character isn't just a repressed housewife who realises how empty her life is. She's like the chairman of a highly successful company who discovers the CEO's been embezzling it and they're going bankrupt. Women back then were trained to be housewives and she had it all: stunning big house, two lovely children (boy and girl, polite and obedient), handsome, successful husband. She was a star, featured in the society pages, her dinner parties were fabulous. Then she discovers her husband's gay. He gets "treatment" and for a while, everything staggers along as normal, until he falls in love. The other strand is that meanwhile, she's finding that the gardener, a kindly fellow, is a good listener. But he's black. She's tremendously naive, doesn't realise that it's all very well for her to play at being liberal, treating him like any other person, but for him it is actually dangerous. It ends up with her being the talk of the town for being seen going into a restaurant with him, and with him having to leave town because the scandal kills his business. Also, his young daughter is injured by boys taunting her about her father. The thing is, they never even kiss -- a touch on the arm is enough to provoke disgust and horror in onlookers. Even her best friend is disgusted, more so than by the revelation about the husband's gayness. But it's not like the character, Cathy, is even very PC by today's standards: she never stands up for her friend, for example. When he grabs her arm during an emotional scene in the street and a passing man yells, "Hey! Hands off boy!" she doesn't say a word in his defence. When the NAACP comes calling, she gets her black maid to sign their petition for her. I thought it was a wonderful film, lots to think about in it.
The carpet steaming worked reasonably well, especially in the hall. I might have another go at a couple of other patches. While I was at it I cleaned the floors downstairs too and did all my laundry and ironing. The house is gleaming! Apart from the bits I didn't dust.
Last night I went to see Far From Heaven, which I loved. It's set in the 50s and it's done just like a 50s movie, with stilted dialogue ("Say, Pop, guess what I did at school today?) and fabulous clothes. But unlike 50s movies it deals more honestly with attitudes to race and homosexuality. I read and heard a lot of opinions on the film before I went and didn't really agree with any of it, though they were all different. I think a lot of younger people can't understand that the main character isn't just a repressed housewife who realises how empty her life is. She's like the chairman of a highly successful company who discovers the CEO's been embezzling it and they're going bankrupt. Women back then were trained to be housewives and she had it all: stunning big house, two lovely children (boy and girl, polite and obedient), handsome, successful husband. She was a star, featured in the society pages, her dinner parties were fabulous. Then she discovers her husband's gay. He gets "treatment" and for a while, everything staggers along as normal, until he falls in love. The other strand is that meanwhile, she's finding that the gardener, a kindly fellow, is a good listener. But he's black. She's tremendously naive, doesn't realise that it's all very well for her to play at being liberal, treating him like any other person, but for him it is actually dangerous. It ends up with her being the talk of the town for being seen going into a restaurant with him, and with him having to leave town because the scandal kills his business. Also, his young daughter is injured by boys taunting her about her father. The thing is, they never even kiss -- a touch on the arm is enough to provoke disgust and horror in onlookers. Even her best friend is disgusted, more so than by the revelation about the husband's gayness. But it's not like the character, Cathy, is even very PC by today's standards: she never stands up for her friend, for example. When he grabs her arm during an emotional scene in the street and a passing man yells, "Hey! Hands off boy!" she doesn't say a word in his defence. When the NAACP comes calling, she gets her black maid to sign their petition for her. I thought it was a wonderful film, lots to think about in it.
9 March 2003
:: reality check
So there I was fretting about the builder still not having given me a quote for the shed doors let alone fitted them, and about the as-yet-uncleaned carpets and a myriad other minutae, when Andrew rang with some terrible news. His friend Kate, the artist we stayed with in the Western Isles, has had her baby -- a wonderful event of course, but Calum was born with heart defects that mean he'll probably have to have surgery in the next couple of weeks. He's in an incubator and is doing a bit better now than when he was born (on Wednesday I think) -- he had quite bad breathing difficulties that have eased. He also has a couple of other physical problems which may be minor or may be symptoms of a syndrome of some kind. Everyone at the hospital has been wonderful, but Kate and her partner have been on a real rollercoaster ride, hoping and praying that all will be well in the end.
Lots of positive thinking, good vibes and prayers please, for Kate, Robbie and wee Calum.
Lots of positive thinking, good vibes and prayers please, for Kate, Robbie and wee Calum.
1 March 2003
:: doors
The builder came this afternoon and after a bit of tooth-sucking over the non-standard size of the doors, said he could get a couple of fire doors and cut them down. They''ll be completely flat and plain, so they won't look as nice as the originals did when new. They'll do the job, though, so I'm not fussed. He's going to quote me for new locks as well -- I figure I might as well have locks on them. If he gets everything organised and the quote is ok by me, they'll be done some time the coming week. Yippee!!
:: on a roll!
Today I finally managed to track down a joiner to come and look at my shed doors. He's coming tomorrow morning (or later this morning, as it's now after midnight). I'm stupidly thrilled at the prospect of having new doors on the shed and have all kinds of plans for improvements. I'm also excited at finding someone who seems keen to work for me. Mind you, I didn't talk to the joiner himself, I talked to his new boss, who has a building firm. The builder himself is booked up for the next seven months. Anyway, he says fitting new doors and surrounds sounds straightforward and no trouble. Hurrah!
Then I made an appointment to get my hair done. My hairdresser is also terribly busy, but the receptionist booked me in for his lunchhour, next Friday.
Then I went to the DIY shop and got a carpet-cleaning gizmo to fit on my wallpaper steamer. This is because I couldn't find anyone to clean my carpets. The only carpet-cleaner who even answered his phone quoted me £140 in a very grumpy way and then said he probably wouldn't be able to get the stains out. This is without even seeing the carpet! I pointed out that his Yellow Pages advert said "stain removal a specialty" and that made him even grumpier. The steam-cleaning attachment cost £16 and doesn't come with a grumpy man attached. It's worth a try, I guess. Actually the stains don't look too bad, though I might have another go at a couple of them with the Carpet Rescue spray before I let loose with the steamer.
At the DIY shop I also bought a nice stainless steel garden fork. I've been making do with a spade, but I really do need a fork. It's lovely.
The other major DIY event looming is that I've decided I really must paint the livingroom. I changed the red sofa covers for the natural ones the other day (the sun has started streaming in through the french doors) and the wallpaper now looks really horrid. I'm going to do it pale green, same as my old flat. The natural sofa looks great, very swish.
It must be spring that's bringing on this great burst of activity. If it's not raining tomorrow I'll get out into the garden and do some tidying up.
Then I made an appointment to get my hair done. My hairdresser is also terribly busy, but the receptionist booked me in for his lunchhour, next Friday.
Then I went to the DIY shop and got a carpet-cleaning gizmo to fit on my wallpaper steamer. This is because I couldn't find anyone to clean my carpets. The only carpet-cleaner who even answered his phone quoted me £140 in a very grumpy way and then said he probably wouldn't be able to get the stains out. This is without even seeing the carpet! I pointed out that his Yellow Pages advert said "stain removal a specialty" and that made him even grumpier. The steam-cleaning attachment cost £16 and doesn't come with a grumpy man attached. It's worth a try, I guess. Actually the stains don't look too bad, though I might have another go at a couple of them with the Carpet Rescue spray before I let loose with the steamer.
At the DIY shop I also bought a nice stainless steel garden fork. I've been making do with a spade, but I really do need a fork. It's lovely.
The other major DIY event looming is that I've decided I really must paint the livingroom. I changed the red sofa covers for the natural ones the other day (the sun has started streaming in through the french doors) and the wallpaper now looks really horrid. I'm going to do it pale green, same as my old flat. The natural sofa looks great, very swish.
It must be spring that's bringing on this great burst of activity. If it's not raining tomorrow I'll get out into the garden and do some tidying up.
28 February 2003
:: wed site
I've spent most of the day working on Pinky's new website -- I've been working on it for just about a year, I think, and I just needed to sit down for a few hours and get it working smoothly. It doesn't look quite the way I wanted it to, but I'm quite pleased with it. I hope Pinky and Suzanne like it.
Otherwise I just walked Bertie a couple of times and had dinner. I went to Blackness, because (oh, this is so dumb!) I got a kilo of carrots for 10p at the supermarket last night and thought the carthorse might like some. Ahem, she did. When she saw me standing by the fence with a carrier bag she actually galloped over, which freaked Bertie out completely.
He got a snack later on though, when we met an elderly gent who used to race greyhounds and now has a portly Westie. He also had a bag of really tasty dog treats in his pocket. I thought Bertie might abandon me, he was so taken with this man. It was mutual!
Otherwise I just walked Bertie a couple of times and had dinner. I went to Blackness, because (oh, this is so dumb!) I got a kilo of carrots for 10p at the supermarket last night and thought the carthorse might like some. Ahem, she did. When she saw me standing by the fence with a carrier bag she actually galloped over, which freaked Bertie out completely.
He got a snack later on though, when we met an elderly gent who used to race greyhounds and now has a portly Westie. He also had a bag of really tasty dog treats in his pocket. I thought Bertie might abandon me, he was so taken with this man. It was mutual!
25 February 2003
:: should I stay or should I go?
I'm seriously considering moving to another isp. There are a lot of reasons to move on; but there are equally compelling reasons to stay.
What's tipping me towards change at the moment is that Easynet's webmail, which I use when I'm at work, has developed some kind of intermittent fault; it's possibly at this end, ie to do with the firewall or whatever, but Easynet's techs are baffled.
So I'm using another webmail service (hushmail) in the meantime.
The webmail problem is just the latest in a line of problems. None of them alone is enough to persuade me to give up on Easynet, but en masse they're getting pretty irritating.
Like when I discovered on uploading the famous helicopter photos that I'd exceeded the 10Mb size limit on a website I'd previously believed was unlimited. Easynet very generously upped the limit to 20Mb -- which I notice from their website is now what they're limiting all users to. It's too complicated to go into here, but the kerfuffle meant I had to move my site from the hockadilly.co.uk "free domain" back to the clunkily-named easyweb.easynet/bja domain, where apparently I can still have unlimited space, doled out in grudging increments. So that makes having a free domain name fairly pointless (though I still have an index page there). Another irritation about that whole business was that there are two different methods for moving files around; FTP for the easyweb space and Microsoft webfolders for hockadilly. Why? Just to annoy me, I think.
The other reason for going is that by today's standards, Easynet is reasonably expensive. It's £12 a month and I pay for phone calls on top of that when I connect. By contrast, I could get 50Mb of webspace at Abel Gratis free, and they offer a bunch of techie stuff like my own cgi-bin, PHP, MySQL and ASP to boot, plus they allow e-commerce on the webspace, which Easynet doesn't without an extra charge (or so I was told ... their website implies that it's jim-dandy). Also, Abel's tech support is on a local rate call, which is something you have to watch out for -- some isps charge 50p a minute for support.
Abel is a Scottish isp, it has a lot of other services with varying rates. But I'm a tiny bit dubious, mainly because it's a small firm and if it goes belly-up I'll have to pack up my tent and move on again.
Another option is BT. Their Openworld Anytime account seems pricey at £16 a month, but you get 50Mb of space and you don't have to pay for connection for up to 150 hours a month. And I wouldn't be on that much. Oh, I've just checked my last phone bill and from 20 Nov to 12 Feb I was only online for about 20 hours in total. Hmmm, I might be better to go for no monthly charge and pay for my connection on the regular local rate. I'd still be saving a bit over Easynet though, and I'd be able to go online a lot more without worrying about the extra cost.
The reasons for not moving are that I'd have to change my email address and website url (though this blogspot address wouldn't change) and go through all the palaver of moving the site and informing everyone of the change. What a pain! But it's starting to look like a worthwhile effort. Having the blogspot makes it all a bit less hassle.
What's tipping me towards change at the moment is that Easynet's webmail, which I use when I'm at work, has developed some kind of intermittent fault; it's possibly at this end, ie to do with the firewall or whatever, but Easynet's techs are baffled.
So I'm using another webmail service (hushmail) in the meantime.
The webmail problem is just the latest in a line of problems. None of them alone is enough to persuade me to give up on Easynet, but en masse they're getting pretty irritating.
Like when I discovered on uploading the famous helicopter photos that I'd exceeded the 10Mb size limit on a website I'd previously believed was unlimited. Easynet very generously upped the limit to 20Mb -- which I notice from their website is now what they're limiting all users to. It's too complicated to go into here, but the kerfuffle meant I had to move my site from the hockadilly.co.uk "free domain" back to the clunkily-named easyweb.easynet/bja domain, where apparently I can still have unlimited space, doled out in grudging increments. So that makes having a free domain name fairly pointless (though I still have an index page there). Another irritation about that whole business was that there are two different methods for moving files around; FTP for the easyweb space and Microsoft webfolders for hockadilly. Why? Just to annoy me, I think.
The other reason for going is that by today's standards, Easynet is reasonably expensive. It's £12 a month and I pay for phone calls on top of that when I connect. By contrast, I could get 50Mb of webspace at Abel Gratis free, and they offer a bunch of techie stuff like my own cgi-bin, PHP, MySQL and ASP to boot, plus they allow e-commerce on the webspace, which Easynet doesn't without an extra charge (or so I was told ... their website implies that it's jim-dandy). Also, Abel's tech support is on a local rate call, which is something you have to watch out for -- some isps charge 50p a minute for support.
Abel is a Scottish isp, it has a lot of other services with varying rates. But I'm a tiny bit dubious, mainly because it's a small firm and if it goes belly-up I'll have to pack up my tent and move on again.
Another option is BT. Their Openworld Anytime account seems pricey at £16 a month, but you get 50Mb of space and you don't have to pay for connection for up to 150 hours a month. And I wouldn't be on that much. Oh, I've just checked my last phone bill and from 20 Nov to 12 Feb I was only online for about 20 hours in total. Hmmm, I might be better to go for no monthly charge and pay for my connection on the regular local rate. I'd still be saving a bit over Easynet though, and I'd be able to go online a lot more without worrying about the extra cost.
The reasons for not moving are that I'd have to change my email address and website url (though this blogspot address wouldn't change) and go through all the palaver of moving the site and informing everyone of the change. What a pain! But it's starting to look like a worthwhile effort. Having the blogspot makes it all a bit less hassle.
23 February 2003
:: a very trying week
Have you ever read Why Cats Paint? Well Bertie took a leaf out of that particular book last week, only he gave it a twist -- he used body fluids.
In the bedroom: Jackson Pollock, on one of the walls as well as across the floor. In the spare room: a Daliesque touch -- melting clocks, in a variety of colours and media. And for the hallway -- Hockney's A Bigger Splash, what else. The earlier works, created in the livingroom, kitchen and diningroom, employed an impasto technique, giving a rugged, painterly effect. The later works weren't as flamboyant, due to a shortage of materials, but were perhaps more subtle and detailed. The addition of specks of blood to the final works hinted at the artist's pain.
Yeah, that was a real good surprise for me at 1:30am. Thanks Bertie. I wasn't cross with him though, because he'd obviously been through hell (and back, a couple of times), and I think he was quite distressed at having made such a huge mess. It took me two hours to clean it up after work on Tuesday night, and there was a fresh splatter on Wednesday morning -- on a previously unmarked stretch of carpet of course.
So anyway I dragged him off to the vet in the morning and spent £30 on antibiotics and special dogfood. Leaking car: £20; leaking dog: £30. Something wrong somewhere.
In case of further problems, he spent the next few nights imprisoned in the livingroom, with the (shit-stained) Persian carpet removed and the sofa pushed against the door that doesn't close. He had also crapped on both his sheepskins, but not on his actual bed, so at least he had somewhere clean to sleep. He wasn't allowed to eat anything for 24 hours, which he found deeply unsettling. He was mightily relieved to get a few spoonfuls of the dietetic delight the vet supplied -- it seemed to be mostly rice -- and even more relieved to finally get back to normal feeding, including treats.
However, it hasn't stopped him trying to eat shit -- which is what I think caused the whole gut-explosion drama in the first place. Apparently when it's frozen it's mighty tasty; he's even going for it now the thaw's set in. There's one little dried-up scrape of poo on the footpath that he always tries to gnaw off, every day. I've left it there as a training aid, but so far he's learned nothing. The vet says it's not uncommon, and she also says dogs don't seem to make the connection between eating rotten, foul food and gut-ache.
So anyway, after all the horror of scrubbing doggie-do and vomit out of the carpets and getting up early for the vet and early/difficult shifts at work, by the end of the week I was knackered. Yesterday I did yet more loads of laundry and hoovered everything in the house, including Bertie (I used the upholstery brush; he didn't seem to mind too much). The carpets upstairs still look pretty bad, I'll have to get them professionally cleaned.
Otherwise, everything is fine.
In the bedroom: Jackson Pollock, on one of the walls as well as across the floor. In the spare room: a Daliesque touch -- melting clocks, in a variety of colours and media. And for the hallway -- Hockney's A Bigger Splash, what else. The earlier works, created in the livingroom, kitchen and diningroom, employed an impasto technique, giving a rugged, painterly effect. The later works weren't as flamboyant, due to a shortage of materials, but were perhaps more subtle and detailed. The addition of specks of blood to the final works hinted at the artist's pain.
Yeah, that was a real good surprise for me at 1:30am. Thanks Bertie. I wasn't cross with him though, because he'd obviously been through hell (and back, a couple of times), and I think he was quite distressed at having made such a huge mess. It took me two hours to clean it up after work on Tuesday night, and there was a fresh splatter on Wednesday morning -- on a previously unmarked stretch of carpet of course.
So anyway I dragged him off to the vet in the morning and spent £30 on antibiotics and special dogfood. Leaking car: £20; leaking dog: £30. Something wrong somewhere.
In case of further problems, he spent the next few nights imprisoned in the livingroom, with the (shit-stained) Persian carpet removed and the sofa pushed against the door that doesn't close. He had also crapped on both his sheepskins, but not on his actual bed, so at least he had somewhere clean to sleep. He wasn't allowed to eat anything for 24 hours, which he found deeply unsettling. He was mightily relieved to get a few spoonfuls of the dietetic delight the vet supplied -- it seemed to be mostly rice -- and even more relieved to finally get back to normal feeding, including treats.
However, it hasn't stopped him trying to eat shit -- which is what I think caused the whole gut-explosion drama in the first place. Apparently when it's frozen it's mighty tasty; he's even going for it now the thaw's set in. There's one little dried-up scrape of poo on the footpath that he always tries to gnaw off, every day. I've left it there as a training aid, but so far he's learned nothing. The vet says it's not uncommon, and she also says dogs don't seem to make the connection between eating rotten, foul food and gut-ache.
So anyway, after all the horror of scrubbing doggie-do and vomit out of the carpets and getting up early for the vet and early/difficult shifts at work, by the end of the week I was knackered. Yesterday I did yet more loads of laundry and hoovered everything in the house, including Bertie (I used the upholstery brush; he didn't seem to mind too much). The carpets upstairs still look pretty bad, I'll have to get them professionally cleaned.
Otherwise, everything is fine.
18 February 2003
:: catching my breath
Whew! it's been all go since I said, "More later! Andrew just showed up..." on Friday night.
Cooking oil: well, I just think that if you can run cars (and presumably trains and much else) on cooking oil, the government should be carpeting the land in oil-producing crops, not fighting wars over dwindling, non-replaceable stocks of highly-polluting fossil fuels. That's all.
So on Saturday, all fired up, I headed off to do a spot of protesting. Andrew and Bertie walked me to the station; neither of them came along -- Andrew was too ill (flu) and Bertie too cowardly. The man in the Dalmeny ticket office sucked his teeth; "Are you sure you want to go to Glasgow? It's chaos..." And so it was. There was a huge, stationary queue at Waverley station, and I was in it for about an hour. However, eventually, I got to Glasgow. I'd managed to leave my map behind and feared I'd never find the SECC rally-point. Walked out of the station and thought, hmmm, I wonder if those thousands people waving placards and shouting slogans know the way? I joined at George Square, just down from the station, and the march stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions. I found myself behind the Scottish Socialist Party banner, with a very lively bunch of people.
I'd had a couple of calls on the train from my old boss, who was on his way to the rally with his wife, so I called him when we arrived at the SECC and got vague directions on where to look for him. He's very tall, so he was easy to spot! They left soon after that, and I declined their invitation to join them in going to Loch Lomond, or even just going for a drink, because I wanted to listen to some of the speeches and generally soak up the atmosphere. I heard the Socialist MSP Tommy Sheridan speak, quite the fiery orator ("Brothers and Sisters!") and someone else who didn't speak up well enough for me to hear. I roamed around looking for people I knew (didn't see anyone, though they were there) and admiring the endless variety of protest (Squirrels for Peace: Nuts to Bombs).
Finally I was weary enough for home and made the long trek back to the station. "Would passengers travelling to Edinburgh please begin queuing on Platform 6," said the tannoy. There was only a tiny queue! Hurrah! But it was a trick -- "start queuing" meant queue at Platform 6 to hear someone say "go out into the car park and join the real queue". It snaked all the way round a really large area! However, it moved quickly, so in the end it was only half an hour or so before I was sitting in a train seat, opening my flask of coffee.
Andrew phoned; he was on his way back to my place from town (no jeering, he really was sick) and said he'd take Bertie for a walk and meet me at Dalmeny or thereabouts. And we timed it perfectly.
After a meal (pork and noodle stir-fry, cooked by me), we decided to go to see Gangs of New York. We left it a bit late and ended up sitting down in the last seats -- front row, far corner -- just as the film started. Despite the neck-cricking view and the violent content, I enjoyed it. It's a part of American history I knew nothing about, and it's very well-made. I'm a fan of Daniel Day-Lewis, and he acted everyone else off the screen. I hope he gets the Oscar, he deserves it.
Sunday, after walking Bertie, we went to IKEA. Andrew's in nest-building mode and wanted to get some ideas for interior decor. We didn't buy anything -- I couldn't bear the thought of standing in another queue, and Andrew was getting the train home -- but had a good time looking at everything. Andrew hadn't been before and was a bit overwhelmed by the totality of the IKEA experience. Yes, you can furnish an entire home at IKEA. We had intended to have lunch at the cafeteria, but it was too crowded, so we just grabbed a hotdog and fled.
On the way home we stopped at Holyrood Park to walk Bertie. (Yes he had been left in the car, but it was freezing cold, so that's all right. And he enjoyed his IKEA hotdog.) During the walk we saw some crows (or are they ravens? I can't tell) curling on the frozen pond. At least that's what it looked like they were doing. After watching them for a while, we realised they were trying to crack open chunks of ice, thinking they were snails. They even fought over them, poor things. They were flying up and dropping the chunks on to the frozen surface, pecking at them to see if they were "open", then dropping them again.
Back home I cooked Andrew a quick omlette and drove him to the station for his train. Then I had a quick breather before going off to meet Fiona for another film, Two Weeks Notice. Her choice, not mine, and I can't say I enjoyed it. It was ok, there were a couple of ok jokes, but it was ... dumb. And I hate Huge Grunt. However, it was nice seeing Fiona again and catching up over a drink.
Monday morning I was up at sparrow fart, walking Bertie in the permafrost before going into town on the bus to see my craniosacral therapist, Joanna, and then on to the hospital for the follow-up MRI scan. Both involved lying down, which was welcome. I was also supposed to take my car in to the garage to have its oil leak diagnosed but put that off due to lack of time. After the scan I went to a bookshop and bought some poetry (a Fleur Adcock collection and Milton's Paradise Lost) and Computing Projects for Visual Basic. I also got some music, a cheapo early music compilation and a collection of Persian classical music.
When I got home I walked Bertie and had something to eat and then pretty much conked out. I gave Bertie some leftovers, which apparently had an electrifying effect on his innards. He had to go out into the garden urgently at 3am and again at 7:30am. Sigh.
This morning I finally took the car to the garage. The mechanic had said he was too busy to fix it but would see what was wrong and book it in. He took a look, measured the oil (almost empty) and said it was so bad he would fix it today. I was imagining the worst, but it was only the oil filter, which was so old it was corroded through. I was "this close" (tiny amount) to a catastrophic engine failure, apparently. But hurrah, it was only £20 for a new filter and two litres of oil.
And now I'm back at work. I was on my own tonight, so it was mega-busy all the way through. I have a last go at learning the new system on Thursday, then we start training on Monday. After that it will be insanely busy for six weeks or so, training and trouble-shooting the new system on top of this job. But there's my lovely holiday to look forward to...
Cooking oil: well, I just think that if you can run cars (and presumably trains and much else) on cooking oil, the government should be carpeting the land in oil-producing crops, not fighting wars over dwindling, non-replaceable stocks of highly-polluting fossil fuels. That's all.
So on Saturday, all fired up, I headed off to do a spot of protesting. Andrew and Bertie walked me to the station; neither of them came along -- Andrew was too ill (flu) and Bertie too cowardly. The man in the Dalmeny ticket office sucked his teeth; "Are you sure you want to go to Glasgow? It's chaos..." And so it was. There was a huge, stationary queue at Waverley station, and I was in it for about an hour. However, eventually, I got to Glasgow. I'd managed to leave my map behind and feared I'd never find the SECC rally-point. Walked out of the station and thought, hmmm, I wonder if those thousands people waving placards and shouting slogans know the way? I joined at George Square, just down from the station, and the march stretched as far as the eye could see in both directions. I found myself behind the Scottish Socialist Party banner, with a very lively bunch of people.
I'd had a couple of calls on the train from my old boss, who was on his way to the rally with his wife, so I called him when we arrived at the SECC and got vague directions on where to look for him. He's very tall, so he was easy to spot! They left soon after that, and I declined their invitation to join them in going to Loch Lomond, or even just going for a drink, because I wanted to listen to some of the speeches and generally soak up the atmosphere. I heard the Socialist MSP Tommy Sheridan speak, quite the fiery orator ("Brothers and Sisters!") and someone else who didn't speak up well enough for me to hear. I roamed around looking for people I knew (didn't see anyone, though they were there) and admiring the endless variety of protest (Squirrels for Peace: Nuts to Bombs).
Finally I was weary enough for home and made the long trek back to the station. "Would passengers travelling to Edinburgh please begin queuing on Platform 6," said the tannoy. There was only a tiny queue! Hurrah! But it was a trick -- "start queuing" meant queue at Platform 6 to hear someone say "go out into the car park and join the real queue". It snaked all the way round a really large area! However, it moved quickly, so in the end it was only half an hour or so before I was sitting in a train seat, opening my flask of coffee.
Andrew phoned; he was on his way back to my place from town (no jeering, he really was sick) and said he'd take Bertie for a walk and meet me at Dalmeny or thereabouts. And we timed it perfectly.
After a meal (pork and noodle stir-fry, cooked by me), we decided to go to see Gangs of New York. We left it a bit late and ended up sitting down in the last seats -- front row, far corner -- just as the film started. Despite the neck-cricking view and the violent content, I enjoyed it. It's a part of American history I knew nothing about, and it's very well-made. I'm a fan of Daniel Day-Lewis, and he acted everyone else off the screen. I hope he gets the Oscar, he deserves it.
Sunday, after walking Bertie, we went to IKEA. Andrew's in nest-building mode and wanted to get some ideas for interior decor. We didn't buy anything -- I couldn't bear the thought of standing in another queue, and Andrew was getting the train home -- but had a good time looking at everything. Andrew hadn't been before and was a bit overwhelmed by the totality of the IKEA experience. Yes, you can furnish an entire home at IKEA. We had intended to have lunch at the cafeteria, but it was too crowded, so we just grabbed a hotdog and fled.
On the way home we stopped at Holyrood Park to walk Bertie. (Yes he had been left in the car, but it was freezing cold, so that's all right. And he enjoyed his IKEA hotdog.) During the walk we saw some crows (or are they ravens? I can't tell) curling on the frozen pond. At least that's what it looked like they were doing. After watching them for a while, we realised they were trying to crack open chunks of ice, thinking they were snails. They even fought over them, poor things. They were flying up and dropping the chunks on to the frozen surface, pecking at them to see if they were "open", then dropping them again.
Back home I cooked Andrew a quick omlette and drove him to the station for his train. Then I had a quick breather before going off to meet Fiona for another film, Two Weeks Notice. Her choice, not mine, and I can't say I enjoyed it. It was ok, there were a couple of ok jokes, but it was ... dumb. And I hate Huge Grunt. However, it was nice seeing Fiona again and catching up over a drink.
Monday morning I was up at sparrow fart, walking Bertie in the permafrost before going into town on the bus to see my craniosacral therapist, Joanna, and then on to the hospital for the follow-up MRI scan. Both involved lying down, which was welcome. I was also supposed to take my car in to the garage to have its oil leak diagnosed but put that off due to lack of time. After the scan I went to a bookshop and bought some poetry (a Fleur Adcock collection and Milton's Paradise Lost) and Computing Projects for Visual Basic. I also got some music, a cheapo early music compilation and a collection of Persian classical music.
When I got home I walked Bertie and had something to eat and then pretty much conked out. I gave Bertie some leftovers, which apparently had an electrifying effect on his innards. He had to go out into the garden urgently at 3am and again at 7:30am. Sigh.
This morning I finally took the car to the garage. The mechanic had said he was too busy to fix it but would see what was wrong and book it in. He took a look, measured the oil (almost empty) and said it was so bad he would fix it today. I was imagining the worst, but it was only the oil filter, which was so old it was corroded through. I was "this close" (tiny amount) to a catastrophic engine failure, apparently. But hurrah, it was only £20 for a new filter and two litres of oil.
And now I'm back at work. I was on my own tonight, so it was mega-busy all the way through. I have a last go at learning the new system on Thursday, then we start training on Monday. After that it will be insanely busy for six weeks or so, training and trouble-shooting the new system on top of this job. But there's my lovely holiday to look forward to...
17 February 2003
:: march pix
No time to catch up just yet, but here are some photos from the march on Saturday:
The queue in Waverly Station, Edinburgh -- the first of much queuing..
I'd forgotten my map of Glasgow, but fortunately the march was easy to find ... I just joined in.
It was huge. You can't really tell from the photo but it stretched as far as the eye could see...
In both directions.
It was freezing, but Scots are hardy folk when their dander is up.
At the rally point, the SECC, the crowd was massive, and still arriving.
Police estimates were 30,000, organisers said it was more like 80,000 or more.
Tony Blair was supposed to speak at the conference at 2pm, but chickened out and spoke at 10am, the time the marchers gathered at Glasgow Green. Here, we're listening to Tommy Sheridan, the Scottish Socialist MP. Excellent speech, stirring stuff.
Some Iraqis were there too.
There were lots of dogs on the march. Bertie would have hated it -- too noisy for my delicate pooch.
The queue in Waverly Station, Edinburgh -- the first of much queuing..
I'd forgotten my map of Glasgow, but fortunately the march was easy to find ... I just joined in.
It was huge. You can't really tell from the photo but it stretched as far as the eye could see...
In both directions.
It was freezing, but Scots are hardy folk when their dander is up.
At the rally point, the SECC, the crowd was massive, and still arriving.
Police estimates were 30,000, organisers said it was more like 80,000 or more.
Tony Blair was supposed to speak at the conference at 2pm, but chickened out and spoke at 10am, the time the marchers gathered at Glasgow Green. Here, we're listening to Tommy Sheridan, the Scottish Socialist MP. Excellent speech, stirring stuff.
Some Iraqis were there too.
There were lots of dogs on the march. Bertie would have hated it -- too noisy for my delicate pooch.
15 February 2003
:: well i'll be jiggered
It did work ... kind of. I can post here by email. Kind of.
Today was lovely. Andrew arrived last night but he'd gone to bed by the time I got home. I got up early this morning but he'd gone out shopping: for flowers and a Valentine's card, the sweetie! Awww, shucks! Then we had a long yacketty-yack breakfast, catching up on everything. After walking the dog we went into town for lunch, which was delicious ... that restaurant's a find. We both had "petits pates" for starters, little lamb-mince pies that were like more sophisticated versions of Scotch pies (mutton pies from Mosgiel, for kiwis). Then Andrew had squid pockets with a seafood stuffing and I had a stunning dish of farmed rabbit with creamy mash and dreamy veg. All the waiting staff were lovely, the decor was stylish and the chef kept popping out to see how we were getting on. He even shook hands with us as we left and thanked us for coming!
After that we went shopping for a mobile phone for Andrew and then I went to work. Did I mention it was a sunny day? Heavy frost on the ground, but crisp and dry. Andrew went home and walked Bertie, and right now he's out on a date. He may show up here (at my work) later for a ride home, depending on how the date went and how he feels -- he's got a heavy cold, poor man.
Work was manic, beyond manic at times, but I enjoyed it. A daily deadline suits me; if I had a weekly one I'd be bound to procrastinate and end up in a mad rush, but this way I have to be disciplined to get everything done. Very little time for emailing and blogging, unfortunately.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to the protest tomorrow (or later today, now it's after midnight). My former boss is going, and so is his wife, even though she's not feeling very well, because she's so aerated about the prospect of war. So I'll wrap up warm and pack a flask and my hillwalking whistle. The plan was to drown out Tony Blair's speech at the SECC, but apparently he's going to speak earlier now. I'll probably go straight to the SECC rather than to Glasgow Green -- the march will have finished by the time I get to the starting point!
One thing I remembered today in relation to the whole war-on-Iraq scenario is the story about running your car on cooking oil.
More later! Andrew just showed up...
Today was lovely. Andrew arrived last night but he'd gone to bed by the time I got home. I got up early this morning but he'd gone out shopping: for flowers and a Valentine's card, the sweetie! Awww, shucks! Then we had a long yacketty-yack breakfast, catching up on everything. After walking the dog we went into town for lunch, which was delicious ... that restaurant's a find. We both had "petits pates" for starters, little lamb-mince pies that were like more sophisticated versions of Scotch pies (mutton pies from Mosgiel, for kiwis). Then Andrew had squid pockets with a seafood stuffing and I had a stunning dish of farmed rabbit with creamy mash and dreamy veg. All the waiting staff were lovely, the decor was stylish and the chef kept popping out to see how we were getting on. He even shook hands with us as we left and thanked us for coming!
After that we went shopping for a mobile phone for Andrew and then I went to work. Did I mention it was a sunny day? Heavy frost on the ground, but crisp and dry. Andrew went home and walked Bertie, and right now he's out on a date. He may show up here (at my work) later for a ride home, depending on how the date went and how he feels -- he's got a heavy cold, poor man.
Work was manic, beyond manic at times, but I enjoyed it. A daily deadline suits me; if I had a weekly one I'd be bound to procrastinate and end up in a mad rush, but this way I have to be disciplined to get everything done. Very little time for emailing and blogging, unfortunately.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to the protest tomorrow (or later today, now it's after midnight). My former boss is going, and so is his wife, even though she's not feeling very well, because she's so aerated about the prospect of war. So I'll wrap up warm and pack a flask and my hillwalking whistle. The plan was to drown out Tony Blair's speech at the SECC, but apparently he's going to speak earlier now. I'll probably go straight to the SECC rather than to Glasgow Green -- the march will have finished by the time I get to the starting point!
One thing I remembered today in relation to the whole war-on-Iraq scenario is the story about running your car on cooking oil.
More later! Andrew just showed up...
14 February 2003
testing
An experiment. I'll be amazed if it works.
---------------------------------------------------
This mail sent through http://www.easynetdial.co.uk
13 February 2003
:: so anyway...
I've been trying to remember what on earth I've been doing that's kept me so busy.
I went to Ingliston Market on Sunday, always entertaining. It's shabby and shady and chaotic, but also cheerful and brash, and there's usually something interesting going on. I got peanuts and fat treats for the birds (over two dozen regulars now; happily the starlings seems to have deserted me but sadly so have the ring-necked doves) and visited my favourite computer software stall, then fell right off my moral high horse (which is actually more of a moral pony) and bought a couple of pirated videos. I make a fairly feeble point of not buying anything pirated if it's something I could easily afford, so normally I wouldn't get a video. But hey, they were films that aren't out on video yet and I hadn't seen them in the cinema.
I bought the Banger Sisters and Star Trek: Nemesis. I got my come-uppance with Star Trek, or Star Drek as it should be called. The sound quality is rubbish, it's as if someone has taken a video camera into the theatre and filmed it, and the visuals are muddy and blurred. It's not helped by a clunker of a plot and grotty acting. Boo! And I speak as a Star Trek fan -- I once queued up outside a science fiction bookshop to get the signature of Chakotay (Ellen made me! And he wasn't wearing his uniform, or his tattoo). The Banger Sisters is ok though -- it's like a normal video and it's a lively film, though a bit cliched. I haven't finished watching it yet, I haven't had time!
Weird dog story: Regular readers may recall the story of Sandy and his dogs, Amber the alsatian and Cassie the poodle. Shortly before he died last year, Sandy asked Pat, a neighbour, if she would take his dogs if anything happened to him. At the time she had one, a fairly elderly black lab cross. Sandy helped her find a nice white alsatian as a "replacement". So when he died, she suddenly had four dogs. First to go was her original dog, which was expected. Then Cassie was put down -- she was about 14, so again, no big surprise.
The other day I bumped into Pat and she only had Amber with her -- Kita, her other alsatian, had been put down after suffering severe fits and finally going into what the vet said was a state of constant fitting. She was only 18 months old, and she was doing well under Pat's care. She'd been kept shut up in an upstairs flat with very few walks before Pat got her, and she'd made great progress at learning to walk quietly on a lead and not bark hysterically at people and other dogs. She was lovely. Amber's always thrilled to see Bertie, relieved to see he's still alive I guess. She used to bark at him, but now she licks his face. Unfortunately he misinterpreted this as a come-on, and made his first attempt to try it on with a bitch. Pat threatened him with castration, so I guess he and Amber won't be allowed to play together any more!
Work has been great, I've been enjoying learning the new software. We start training the other staff a week on Monday. Oh, next Monday I have my follow-up MRI scan. Mum, if the CDs you've sent arrive in time I'm taking one with me: they have a very limited selection there, and you have music playing (with earphones) because of the noise the machine makes. They also talk to you via the earphones, so you have to wear them.
I went to Ingliston Market on Sunday, always entertaining. It's shabby and shady and chaotic, but also cheerful and brash, and there's usually something interesting going on. I got peanuts and fat treats for the birds (over two dozen regulars now; happily the starlings seems to have deserted me but sadly so have the ring-necked doves) and visited my favourite computer software stall, then fell right off my moral high horse (which is actually more of a moral pony) and bought a couple of pirated videos. I make a fairly feeble point of not buying anything pirated if it's something I could easily afford, so normally I wouldn't get a video. But hey, they were films that aren't out on video yet and I hadn't seen them in the cinema.
I bought the Banger Sisters and Star Trek: Nemesis. I got my come-uppance with Star Trek, or Star Drek as it should be called. The sound quality is rubbish, it's as if someone has taken a video camera into the theatre and filmed it, and the visuals are muddy and blurred. It's not helped by a clunker of a plot and grotty acting. Boo! And I speak as a Star Trek fan -- I once queued up outside a science fiction bookshop to get the signature of Chakotay (Ellen made me! And he wasn't wearing his uniform, or his tattoo). The Banger Sisters is ok though -- it's like a normal video and it's a lively film, though a bit cliched. I haven't finished watching it yet, I haven't had time!
Weird dog story: Regular readers may recall the story of Sandy and his dogs, Amber the alsatian and Cassie the poodle. Shortly before he died last year, Sandy asked Pat, a neighbour, if she would take his dogs if anything happened to him. At the time she had one, a fairly elderly black lab cross. Sandy helped her find a nice white alsatian as a "replacement". So when he died, she suddenly had four dogs. First to go was her original dog, which was expected. Then Cassie was put down -- she was about 14, so again, no big surprise.
The other day I bumped into Pat and she only had Amber with her -- Kita, her other alsatian, had been put down after suffering severe fits and finally going into what the vet said was a state of constant fitting. She was only 18 months old, and she was doing well under Pat's care. She'd been kept shut up in an upstairs flat with very few walks before Pat got her, and she'd made great progress at learning to walk quietly on a lead and not bark hysterically at people and other dogs. She was lovely. Amber's always thrilled to see Bertie, relieved to see he's still alive I guess. She used to bark at him, but now she licks his face. Unfortunately he misinterpreted this as a come-on, and made his first attempt to try it on with a bitch. Pat threatened him with castration, so I guess he and Amber won't be allowed to play together any more!
Work has been great, I've been enjoying learning the new software. We start training the other staff a week on Monday. Oh, next Monday I have my follow-up MRI scan. Mum, if the CDs you've sent arrive in time I'm taking one with me: they have a very limited selection there, and you have music playing (with earphones) because of the noise the machine makes. They also talk to you via the earphones, so you have to wear them.
:: safety first
I bought a car restraint for Bertie today, after reading an article about how an unrestrained rear-seat passenger can kill the driver in an accident. Apparently even at town speeds, braking suddenly can send your back-seat pal flying into you with enormous force. There's also a fairly scary ad I saw in a cinema recently that shows a boy killing his mother in a prang. Lots of blood and screaming. Then there's this, from Pet Planet. Baby elephant! A baby elephant with bony elbows!
It's also for Bertie's own good -- a few times he's ended up in a heap in the footwell after a brisk traffic manoeuvre on my part. And just the other day he was panting out the window when he fell over, and caught his top jaw on the glass. I thought he'd broken a tooth, he carried on so much, but I think it was just fright and maybe a sore tongue.
Anyway, from now on we'll be motoring in complete safety. Heh.
It's also for Bertie's own good -- a few times he's ended up in a heap in the footwell after a brisk traffic manoeuvre on my part. And just the other day he was panting out the window when he fell over, and caught his top jaw on the glass. I thought he'd broken a tooth, he carried on so much, but I think it was just fright and maybe a sore tongue.
Anyway, from now on we'll be motoring in complete safety. Heh.
:: busy week
It's getting to be spring -- snowdrops are out, the daffs are in bud and I today saw a branch about to burst into blossom -- but it's turned cold again. And it's muddy too, which means that although I cleaned all the floors with astounding thoroughness on Monday, they're already all dirty again. Cleaner than they were though, so that's something.
That's the other thing about spring -- sunlight finds my house again, and shows me just how clarty it is. Grimy windows! (On the inside; the outsides are now benefitting from hired help) Drifts of dog hair! Muddy paw prints! It'd be a relatively clean house if it weren't for Bertie, I have to say. For a clean dog he's very grubby.
Big treat for him tonight though -- Andrew's arriving! He does love to have visitors. We're going to lunch tomorrow in town, at La Garrigue. I haven't been there before but it gets good reviews and looks nice from the outside. And it's French! I like the French again since they started standing up to the Americans. I even forgive them slightly for the Rainbow Warrior.
Speaking of which, I'm thinking of going to Glasgow on Saturday for the peace march. It's a bit of a long haul, and it's early in the day, but I'm annoyed enough about the whole Iraq thing to make the effort. I first went on a peace march in 1972, how about that! A guy at work says his first was in 1961 -- we're just a bunch of old peaceniks.
I've finally uploaded the slightly gussied-up version of my website and it works ... it's not dramatically different, but the coding is cleaner. Yes, that will be a relief for those visitors appalled by my messy coding.
That's the other thing about spring -- sunlight finds my house again, and shows me just how clarty it is. Grimy windows! (On the inside; the outsides are now benefitting from hired help) Drifts of dog hair! Muddy paw prints! It'd be a relatively clean house if it weren't for Bertie, I have to say. For a clean dog he's very grubby.
Big treat for him tonight though -- Andrew's arriving! He does love to have visitors. We're going to lunch tomorrow in town, at La Garrigue. I haven't been there before but it gets good reviews and looks nice from the outside. And it's French! I like the French again since they started standing up to the Americans. I even forgive them slightly for the Rainbow Warrior.
Speaking of which, I'm thinking of going to Glasgow on Saturday for the peace march. It's a bit of a long haul, and it's early in the day, but I'm annoyed enough about the whole Iraq thing to make the effort. I first went on a peace march in 1972, how about that! A guy at work says his first was in 1961 -- we're just a bunch of old peaceniks.
I've finally uploaded the slightly gussied-up version of my website and it works ... it's not dramatically different, but the coding is cleaner. Yes, that will be a relief for those visitors appalled by my messy coding.
6 February 2003
:: Snow pix
Here are some photos from the weekend:
First a "white hell" shot of Bertie in a slight blizzard. It was quite dark, but I turned the flash off after discovering I'd taken a photo of lots of bright white lumps.
And a few from Cramond:
Bright and sunny, but snow right to the water's edge.
Brrr. On the left, across the River Almond, the little Cramond ferryboat is tied up ... you can't see it, it's too dark. It's closed until further notice - ie forever - which is a shame. It was lovely being rowed across the river for 50p.
5 February 2003
:: winter wonderland
Well I got my wish -- I was walking Bertie in the Braid Hills park when it started snowing seriously, on Sunday that was. There's still snow in my back yard, but only because it doesn't get much sun in winter. We had some good walks over the weekend. Saturday I drove out to Gullane and walked along the Bents past the golf links. Then on the way home we stopped off at Holyrood Park. Sunday was Braid Hills, and Monday Cramond -- where snow was lying on the sand, right down to the water's edge.
Saturday's visit to Holyrood Park resulted in me booking a holiday to Greece. I was just loading Bertie into the car (wet and in disgrace after dashing into the pond in pursuit of swans and nearly catching them) when a young woman came up and asked for a lift. She'd climbed Arthur's Seat from the other side of the park and had gotten lost coming down. It was almost sunset and she wasn't wearing a jacket, poor thing. So I gave her a lift, and it turned out she was Greek! I said I was thinking of visiting Greece, blah blah, and when I said Halki, she nearly leapt out of her seat with excitement. "Oh that would be perfect! You'd love it!" etc. So I've booked! I'm going! It'll be May 7, for a week. The flight (to Rhodes, the nearest airport) leaves from Gatwick, so I'm also going to spend some time in London catching up with friends and seeing the sights.
I'll post some photos tomorrow, of snow and swans.
Saturday's visit to Holyrood Park resulted in me booking a holiday to Greece. I was just loading Bertie into the car (wet and in disgrace after dashing into the pond in pursuit of swans and nearly catching them) when a young woman came up and asked for a lift. She'd climbed Arthur's Seat from the other side of the park and had gotten lost coming down. It was almost sunset and she wasn't wearing a jacket, poor thing. So I gave her a lift, and it turned out she was Greek! I said I was thinking of visiting Greece, blah blah, and when I said Halki, she nearly leapt out of her seat with excitement. "Oh that would be perfect! You'd love it!" etc. So I've booked! I'm going! It'll be May 7, for a week. The flight (to Rhodes, the nearest airport) leaves from Gatwick, so I'm also going to spend some time in London catching up with friends and seeing the sights.
I'll post some photos tomorrow, of snow and swans.
31 January 2003
:: brr
It's fuh-reeeezing. Last week it was so balmy it was actually warmer here than on the Mediterranean. And now it's positively arctic. They're having blizzards further north, and in England too, but here it's just plain cold -- icy and clear. I like it -- sunshine is good, dry is good -- but it would have been nice to have some snow. I never used to bother much about the weather, but now I'm out walking three times a day it's become a real issue. A rain and wind combo makes me want to train Bertie to use a flush toilet, but a violent storm is thrilling. Fog is mysterious and great for photography, but a wet mist is just ... wet.
Depending on the weather I'm going on a hillwalking expedition this weekend, probably the Pentlands again. I need to get my fitness back up after a slackish few months.
I'm still dithering about Greece. I picked out the perfect place, but it's almost £500 once the single supplement is added. For a week that seems an awful lot ... but it is really lovely. I can't decide.
Depending on the weather I'm going on a hillwalking expedition this weekend, probably the Pentlands again. I need to get my fitness back up after a slackish few months.
I'm still dithering about Greece. I picked out the perfect place, but it's almost £500 once the single supplement is added. For a week that seems an awful lot ... but it is really lovely. I can't decide.
30 January 2003
ASK-A-SCIENTIST
ASK-A-SCIENTIST Archive - Veterinary
This is a US government department thing; I've earmarked the veterinary section (everything you need to know about Fruit Bat Histoplasmosis) but there are stacks of categories: weather, molecular biology, chemistry.
This is a US government department thing; I've earmarked the veterinary section (everything you need to know about Fruit Bat Histoplasmosis) but there are stacks of categories: weather, molecular biology, chemistry.
29 January 2003
Pepys' Diary
Pepys' Diary
The original blog! This is such a great idea ... there was a series recently on Radio 4 about Pepys, I used to sometimes catch it when I was driving home, if I managed to get out early. I think it was readings from his biography. Anyway, I've never read the diaries, so I was delighted to find this.
The original blog! This is such a great idea ... there was a series recently on Radio 4 about Pepys, I used to sometimes catch it when I was driving home, if I managed to get out early. I think it was readings from his biography. Anyway, I've never read the diaries, so I was delighted to find this.
26 January 2003
:: friends reunited
I just signed up at the Friends Reunited site, but it was a bit dull -- I'm the one and only ex-pupil registered for Port Chalmers primary, and didn't recognise any names from the Girls' High list. Another anti-climax.
My home email is working again.
My home email is working again.
:: more
The early PA report:
POLICE SURROUND PARLIAMENT OVER GUNMAN REPORT
By Gordon Darroch, PA News
Armed police tonight surrounded a building near the site of the new Scottish Parliament building following reports of a firearms incident.
Police cordoned off a section of Holyrood Road in Edinburgh after receiving reports that a man had been seen carrying a gun at about 3.30pm.
Eight police vehicles, including six vans and an armed response unit, rushed to an address between Holyrood Road and the Pleasance, about 300 yards from where the Parliament is being built.
A spokesman for Lothian and Borders Police said: “We are responding to an incident involving and individual. Armed response officers have been deployed because we have reason to believe a firearm may have been involved.
“As the situation is changing all the time, we cannot comment any further at the moment.”
mfl
"an address between Holyrood Road and the Pleasance" is an odd thing to say, because they are at right angles to each other, they intersect. If they mean on the corner of Holyrood Road and the Pleasance, then it's possibly the homeless hostel, which is near the corner -- the building nearest the corner is a business premises. There's also a pub across the road from the hostel. Then there are university buildings and the Dumbiedykes housing estate, then us. Across the road from us is the parliament site and a lot of other new buildings -- flats, a hotel, coffee bar etc.
POLICE SURROUND PARLIAMENT OVER GUNMAN REPORT
By Gordon Darroch, PA News
Armed police tonight surrounded a building near the site of the new Scottish Parliament building following reports of a firearms incident.
Police cordoned off a section of Holyrood Road in Edinburgh after receiving reports that a man had been seen carrying a gun at about 3.30pm.
Eight police vehicles, including six vans and an armed response unit, rushed to an address between Holyrood Road and the Pleasance, about 300 yards from where the Parliament is being built.
A spokesman for Lothian and Borders Police said: “We are responding to an incident involving and individual. Armed response officers have been deployed because we have reason to believe a firearm may have been involved.
“As the situation is changing all the time, we cannot comment any further at the moment.”
mfl
"an address between Holyrood Road and the Pleasance" is an odd thing to say, because they are at right angles to each other, they intersect. If they mean on the corner of Holyrood Road and the Pleasance, then it's possibly the homeless hostel, which is near the corner -- the building nearest the corner is a business premises. There's also a pub across the road from the hostel. Then there are university buildings and the Dumbiedykes housing estate, then us. Across the road from us is the parliament site and a lot of other new buildings -- flats, a hotel, coffee bar etc.
:: under siege
It's all excitement here tonight. It took me half an hour longer than usual to get to work, because the street was cordoned off by police. The road through the park (which has a turnoff just behind our building) is always closed on Sundays, so getting here involved a long detour -- and in the end I had to drive round the barrier on the park road and talk my way past another police barricade.
Apparently someone saw a man with a gun just before 4pm, and now, two hours later, there are still police everywhere. The BBC has a brief report on it, but there doesn't seem much information around at all. And yes, it is amusing that it's a news organisation and none of us know what's going on.
Apparently someone saw a man with a gun just before 4pm, and now, two hours later, there are still police everywhere. The BBC has a brief report on it, but there doesn't seem much information around at all. And yes, it is amusing that it's a news organisation and none of us know what's going on.
23 January 2003
:: picture post
I spent an hour -- one whole hour -- this afternoon rescanning two photos. It didn't take me that long to just scan them, it took me that long to find the originals, then to browse through the rest of the photos in the three albums and two shoe boxes I found them in, and to roughly sort out another two piles of photos and postcards lying around loose. I have mountains and mountains of photographs and I really need to do something about them -- I do like looking through them and I don't want to throw them out. The ideal would be to scan them all in I guess, but that would take forever.
Thank goodness for my digital camera. A bulging hard drive is much less messy than shoe boxes.
Some sad news: one of Chad and Leslie's huskies, Cheena, has cancer. She's over 12, so I guess she's had a good innings, but it's still awful for them to contemplate losing a dog they've had so long.
Thank goodness for my digital camera. A bulging hard drive is much less messy than shoe boxes.
Some sad news: one of Chad and Leslie's huskies, Cheena, has cancer. She's over 12, so I guess she's had a good innings, but it's still awful for them to contemplate losing a dog they've had so long.
:: net work
I've had a good go at my website, converting it all to use cascading style sheets so it'll be all lean and mean. But while doing that I couldn't help but notice that a lot of my photos are badly scanned and need to be redone (my current scanner is much better than my old one); plus the general style is inconsistent; though I've tidied that up a lot. I should be able to upload the new site by the end of the week. The look won't be that different, it's just a technical upgrade.
I really enjoyed doing it, finally actually using the stuff I learned on the last computer course.
I really enjoyed doing it, finally actually using the stuff I learned on the last computer course.
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