Today as I arrived at work I was stopped by a couple of American tourists.
"Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question? Could you tell me what this means?"
"This" was an Evening News bill that read: "ROYAL MILE A DEATH TRAP".
"I don't know, I'm sorry, I haven't read the paper."
"So what's your feeling about it? What do you think it might mean? Is it a death trap for tourists?"
Ah. OK.
"I think it's probably about traffic, I haven't heard about anything that serious."
"But you don't know?"
"No."
They went away off in the direction of the Royal Mile, presumably discussing whether to risk death to see a bunch of old buildings. When I got inside I looked up the story in the paper. Here it is.
I was right, it's about traffic. But the crazy thing is, the street is supposed to be a death trap because part of it is pedestrianised. Sorry? If the story had been this one I could understand.
In other news, my scanner has stopped working as well as the printer now. I think the problem is the USB hub, so I've got a new one arriving in the post tomorrow. If that doesn't fix things I'm looking at a long gastly process of uninstalling and reinstalling and tearing my hair out and talking to support folk. Windows 98 is supposed to be stable!
14 November 2001
13 November 2001
Eeek, I checked last night and there's a horrendous big bruise on Bertie's chest from being dragged through the fence. It's official -- I'm a bad mother.
On the brighter side his cut has almost completely healed up, vindicating my fresh-air-and-exercise theory, and he's full of beans and the joy of life. A very happy puppy. Apart from the big purple bruise on his chest.
I finally got a new answering machine today to replace the one that broke a couple of weeks ago. The old one was the cheapest I could find at the time, 1993 or so, it cost £30 at Ali's Cave. I got one today at the BT shop for £13. Currie's had a slightly cheaper one but the salesman patronised me, so kaching! No Sale. Poor salesmanship is one of my bugbears. The woman in BT was pleasant, knowledgeable and efficient -- plus she was a Kiwi!
Speaking of shopping, my order of Thunderpants arrived in the mail today. They Don't Go Up Your Bum! Brilliant concept! They don't either, and they are wonderfully comfy.
I got mainly plain pants, but some with patterns -- my favourites are the orange ones with rockets.
On the brighter side his cut has almost completely healed up, vindicating my fresh-air-and-exercise theory, and he's full of beans and the joy of life. A very happy puppy. Apart from the big purple bruise on his chest.
I finally got a new answering machine today to replace the one that broke a couple of weeks ago. The old one was the cheapest I could find at the time, 1993 or so, it cost £30 at Ali's Cave. I got one today at the BT shop for £13. Currie's had a slightly cheaper one but the salesman patronised me, so kaching! No Sale. Poor salesmanship is one of my bugbears. The woman in BT was pleasant, knowledgeable and efficient -- plus she was a Kiwi!
Speaking of shopping, my order of Thunderpants arrived in the mail today. They Don't Go Up Your Bum! Brilliant concept! They don't either, and they are wonderfully comfy.
I got mainly plain pants, but some with patterns -- my favourites are the orange ones with rockets.
12 November 2001
Jings, I let that mad pooch off the lead for one minute and he's up to his oxters in trouble.
I was making yet another attempt to find the footpath to Newbridge. We'd come under the main railway line and then under another, into a big field. We were away from roads, so I unleashed Bertie for a run. He sprinted off around the field for a while till that got boring, and was dashing back when something caught his eye on the railway embankment. Rabbit!
Off he went, in full mad mode. Deaf to all commands, determined to get the rabbit. The embankment is, I don't know, 15ft high or something, covered in those special railway rocks and blackberry, with the line running along the top, and it's fenced off. The fence is plain wire, four or five strands, chest-high. He couldn't get over so he squeezed through. And bounded straight up on to the line.
By this time I was hysterical, bellowing at him to COME HERE THIS MINUTE but he ignored me. Until he'd looked everywhere for the rabbit, up and down the railway line, and couldn't find it and got bored with walking on the hurty stones and wanted to come down again. Except now he wasn't all hyped up and couldn't get through the fence.
Sigh.
He couldn't even get close to the fence, on account of all the hurty blackberry prickling his dainty feet. So he stood on the slope looking pitiful, waiting for me to rescue him. I had to squeeze through the fence, drag him (resisting hard) down to the fence, stand on one strand of wire to press it down and lift the one above. Then, with the remaining free hand, I had to lean down and put his legs through, one after the other. The trickiest bit was getting him to move forward after his front legs were through, because his chest is so deep. That hurt, apparently.
After that we went straight home.
At least it wasn't the main line -- there weren't any trains down the line he was on during this little crisis, but there were three down the other line. I learned my lesson early on that one: he ran on to the main line not long after I got him. I had to scramble up the embankment and down the other side to get to the line, where Bertie was standing looking dopey -- those damned sleepers and hurty railway stones are hard to walk on!
Then after I got home I heard the news from New York & had to rush in to work early. An unbelievable story -- bad enough in normal circumstances, but now it's another hammer blow sending the world off in this disturbing new direction. Brrr. Personally I'm not any more afraid to fly than before; the risk is pretty much the same it seems to me. Even less maybe, now there's better security. This latest disaster may be an accident anyway. For me scariest things in the long term are ones we don't even reallly notice at the moment, little bits of freedom being whittled away, options lost. And amid all the militaristic drum-beating it's harder still to feebly bleat: "Give peace a chance."
I was making yet another attempt to find the footpath to Newbridge. We'd come under the main railway line and then under another, into a big field. We were away from roads, so I unleashed Bertie for a run. He sprinted off around the field for a while till that got boring, and was dashing back when something caught his eye on the railway embankment. Rabbit!
Off he went, in full mad mode. Deaf to all commands, determined to get the rabbit. The embankment is, I don't know, 15ft high or something, covered in those special railway rocks and blackberry, with the line running along the top, and it's fenced off. The fence is plain wire, four or five strands, chest-high. He couldn't get over so he squeezed through. And bounded straight up on to the line.
By this time I was hysterical, bellowing at him to COME HERE THIS MINUTE but he ignored me. Until he'd looked everywhere for the rabbit, up and down the railway line, and couldn't find it and got bored with walking on the hurty stones and wanted to come down again. Except now he wasn't all hyped up and couldn't get through the fence.
Sigh.
He couldn't even get close to the fence, on account of all the hurty blackberry prickling his dainty feet. So he stood on the slope looking pitiful, waiting for me to rescue him. I had to squeeze through the fence, drag him (resisting hard) down to the fence, stand on one strand of wire to press it down and lift the one above. Then, with the remaining free hand, I had to lean down and put his legs through, one after the other. The trickiest bit was getting him to move forward after his front legs were through, because his chest is so deep. That hurt, apparently.
After that we went straight home.
At least it wasn't the main line -- there weren't any trains down the line he was on during this little crisis, but there were three down the other line. I learned my lesson early on that one: he ran on to the main line not long after I got him. I had to scramble up the embankment and down the other side to get to the line, where Bertie was standing looking dopey -- those damned sleepers and hurty railway stones are hard to walk on!
Then after I got home I heard the news from New York & had to rush in to work early. An unbelievable story -- bad enough in normal circumstances, but now it's another hammer blow sending the world off in this disturbing new direction. Brrr. Personally I'm not any more afraid to fly than before; the risk is pretty much the same it seems to me. Even less maybe, now there's better security. This latest disaster may be an accident anyway. For me scariest things in the long term are ones we don't even reallly notice at the moment, little bits of freedom being whittled away, options lost. And amid all the militaristic drum-beating it's harder still to feebly bleat: "Give peace a chance."
11 November 2001
10 November 2001
The visit to the vet today was free, gratis! No treatment required. There was no bandage on Bertie's wound, I'd given up even trying. It's healing up ok, but Fiona (the vet) said to keep the bucket on his head to stop him from licking at it.
I can't! I just can't. It's too awful. He'll have to take his chances. Sure, I'll feel bad when he has his leg amputated and has to use a little trolley to get around, but it's easier in the short term.
After the vet we went to Pets At Home, shopping for treat biscuits. Then on to visit Anthea, who has just acquired a digital camera.
Bertie shows Anthea something interesting in the garden
I want one. A camera I mean, not a dog.
We all went to the Braid Hills for a walk. Lots and lots and lots of dogs there, all breeds, sizes, shapes.
Anthea took some pictures with her instant gratification machine, I mean digital camera.
I actually need a digital camera.
Now we're home, sheltering from the fireworks. I thought it was all over last weekend, but someone's letting off rockets just up the road. Bertie's really agitated this time, because we went for a walk earlier and the rockets started just as we were coming home. He broke into a run, dashed through the gate and up the path and banged his feet on the door, desperate to get in. First time he's done that. Since then he's been pacing around crying, won't settle at all.
I can't! I just can't. It's too awful. He'll have to take his chances. Sure, I'll feel bad when he has his leg amputated and has to use a little trolley to get around, but it's easier in the short term.
After the vet we went to Pets At Home, shopping for treat biscuits. Then on to visit Anthea, who has just acquired a digital camera.
Bertie shows Anthea something interesting in the garden
I want one. A camera I mean, not a dog.
We all went to the Braid Hills for a walk. Lots and lots and lots of dogs there, all breeds, sizes, shapes.
Anthea took some pictures with her instant gratification machine, I mean digital camera.
I actually need a digital camera.
Now we're home, sheltering from the fireworks. I thought it was all over last weekend, but someone's letting off rockets just up the road. Bertie's really agitated this time, because we went for a walk earlier and the rockets started just as we were coming home. He broke into a run, dashed through the gate and up the path and banged his feet on the door, desperate to get in. First time he's done that. Since then he's been pacing around crying, won't settle at all.
9 November 2001
I made a start today on posting some more pix to the website. Slight complication when I discovered that somehow, the backup of the site I did before buying a new computer was out of date. I had to download the newer version off the web! That took forever, of course, and then suddenly I was running late for work. So maybe tomorrow. The redesign project has made some stuttering progress as well, but don't hold your breath.
The Big Bandage Derby
Bertie: 273
Me: 0
Today, the damned dog managed to get his bandage off a) while I was in the house and b) with the bucket strapped to his head.
Sigh.
Tomorrow we see the vet again, for the last time I hope. The cut is actually not looking too bad, but I'm sure it will heal faster if he would only stop licking at it. It looked much better last night, when he removed a dressing that had been in place for over 24 hours. It was a simple stick-on breathable gauze pad. You'd think he could put up with that! But no, he's not happy until he's made the cut bleed again.
Another clear, freezing day. Ice on the puddles, brrr.
Bertie: 273
Me: 0
Today, the damned dog managed to get his bandage off a) while I was in the house and b) with the bucket strapped to his head.
Sigh.
Tomorrow we see the vet again, for the last time I hope. The cut is actually not looking too bad, but I'm sure it will heal faster if he would only stop licking at it. It looked much better last night, when he removed a dressing that had been in place for over 24 hours. It was a simple stick-on breathable gauze pad. You'd think he could put up with that! But no, he's not happy until he's made the cut bleed again.
Another clear, freezing day. Ice on the puddles, brrr.
8 November 2001
It's come to my attention that the ALL NEW TALKBACK FACILITY may be difficult to find. It's just down there [points down], where it says "Talk back", see? In blue? Or maybe if someone has managed to work out how to use it and has left a comment, it might say "1 person talked back". Or "34 people talked back". Just move the cursor (the arrow thingie) down to that and it'll turn into a wee hand, and then you click down on the right-hand button of the mouse. Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezie. If Bertie can do it, so can you.
7 November 2001
More parking drama. I cracked and drove in today, after coming in on the bus all week (and going home in a taxi courtesy of the company) -- it was raining, cold and I was running late due to bandage-changing duties. The garage across the road was full, so I parked on a bit of pavement next to our garage doors. I'd just sat down at my desk when in came an angry colleague. He'd had the same experience as me, only he'd been stopped by "The Crown Prince of Ruritania" -- our new commissionaire, who wears a very impressive uniform and peaked cap -- and told that the police would be summoned to tow his car away. So he drove round the corner and parked illegally in front of the building.
It's maddeningly petty -- we arrive at between 4.30 and 5pm, and we're not allowed to park in the garage before 6pm, even if there are spaces. Even on a Sunday! The alternative to the park across the road is a street a couple of blocks away, and last time I brought the car in to work that was full as well. And of course there's always Dumbiedykes, the rough-as-guts high-rise estate next door to us. There are always plenty of parking spaces there -- look, take that one next to the burnt-out Fiesta. (There really was a burnt-out Fiesta in the estate car park last time I walked through, it's not just blind prejudice.)
It's maddeningly petty -- we arrive at between 4.30 and 5pm, and we're not allowed to park in the garage before 6pm, even if there are spaces. Even on a Sunday! The alternative to the park across the road is a street a couple of blocks away, and last time I brought the car in to work that was full as well. And of course there's always Dumbiedykes, the rough-as-guts high-rise estate next door to us. There are always plenty of parking spaces there -- look, take that one next to the burnt-out Fiesta. (There really was a burnt-out Fiesta in the estate car park last time I walked through, it's not just blind prejudice.)
6 November 2001
Lost count of wrecked bandages long ago -- three today anyway. So today, for the first time, I left Bertie at home wearing the "bucket". When he knew I was getting ready to leave he starting following me around, pressing the bucket against the back of my legs -- "Hey, hey, you forgot something! Get this thing off my head!" Poor devil. The vet gave me some antiseptic gel and wadding; I'm nearly out of it all and the next appointment's not until Saturday. I'm so sick of this! Just as well I'm only dealing with a dog, if it was a child he/she would have plenty to tell a psychiatrist.
I had a good weekend off, went on some wonderful walks, mowed the lawns, had a shopping spree at Ikea, worked hard on a new website design and ate well -- all home cooking, no carry-outs. The Ikea visit was mainly for furniture, so I had a great time building it. It's like adult Lego, following the diagram and ending up with something that looks just like the picture. One chest of drawers had a bit missing, but it was only one of the back panels so I'm not bothered. It works, it looks ok, it was cheap.
Faye is coming up to visit, hurrah. I've got three days off the week she's here (I was planning to visit her in Oxford!) so I've invited ourselves to the farm. That should be good fun, we'll be able to do some sightseeing while we're there. Cawdor Castle, I think, and Loch Ness. Oh, I wonder if she'd like the Cloutie Well? It's an amazing spot on the Black Isle, a natural spring that has a reputation for healing. You take a piece of clothing from the afflicted area, wet it in the springwater and hang it nearby. Every tree and shrub around the well is festooned with bits of cloth, from scraps to whole garments, some new, some rotting away. I left a pair of knickers there when I visited (not the ones I was wearing!).
Speaking of illness, we were hit by a computer virus at work yesterday. The whole system creaked and groaned as picture and story files vanished willy-nilly. I had one error message that read "Serious Problem: Is your network still alive?" We managed to get the paper out, but only with the help of the top IT guys and a lot of hair-tearing and running around. I'm so glad I've got virus protection at home, she says smugly. We have it at work as well of course, but it wasn't able to detect this one. And when Trevor got a virus it actually destroyed his anti-virus software! So I can't be too complacent.
I had a good weekend off, went on some wonderful walks, mowed the lawns, had a shopping spree at Ikea, worked hard on a new website design and ate well -- all home cooking, no carry-outs. The Ikea visit was mainly for furniture, so I had a great time building it. It's like adult Lego, following the diagram and ending up with something that looks just like the picture. One chest of drawers had a bit missing, but it was only one of the back panels so I'm not bothered. It works, it looks ok, it was cheap.
Faye is coming up to visit, hurrah. I've got three days off the week she's here (I was planning to visit her in Oxford!) so I've invited ourselves to the farm. That should be good fun, we'll be able to do some sightseeing while we're there. Cawdor Castle, I think, and Loch Ness. Oh, I wonder if she'd like the Cloutie Well? It's an amazing spot on the Black Isle, a natural spring that has a reputation for healing. You take a piece of clothing from the afflicted area, wet it in the springwater and hang it nearby. Every tree and shrub around the well is festooned with bits of cloth, from scraps to whole garments, some new, some rotting away. I left a pair of knickers there when I visited (not the ones I was wearing!).
Speaking of illness, we were hit by a computer virus at work yesterday. The whole system creaked and groaned as picture and story files vanished willy-nilly. I had one error message that read "Serious Problem: Is your network still alive?" We managed to get the paper out, but only with the help of the top IT guys and a lot of hair-tearing and running around. I'm so glad I've got virus protection at home, she says smugly. We have it at work as well of course, but it wasn't able to detect this one. And when Trevor got a virus it actually destroyed his anti-virus software! So I can't be too complacent.
1 November 2001
We're on to bandage number four now, I think. The vet's lovely one was a wreck when I got home last night, so I tidied it up as best I could and covered the open wound with torn-up sheeting. Today I went to the chemist & bought a bunch of stuff - sterile pads, surgical tape, stretch bandage -- and did a neater job. He gnawed it all off this evening. So I redid the whole thing and put the dreaded monster collar on for a while. I couldn't leave him in it though, he looks so incredibly miserable.
Yes, I took off the collar. Yes, he chewed up his bandage again.
Almost all the bandages are gone now, it's a real battle of wills. The vet's appointment is Saturday morning. I'll have to get more bandage tomorrow. Grrrrrr.
I've been faffling around with the scanner tonight, stand by for more pictures. Maybe a new layout, who knows.
Yes, I took off the collar. Yes, he chewed up his bandage again.
Almost all the bandages are gone now, it's a real battle of wills. The vet's appointment is Saturday morning. I'll have to get more bandage tomorrow. Grrrrrr.
I've been faffling around with the scanner tonight, stand by for more pictures. Maybe a new layout, who knows.
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