A clue to Bertie's home...
This links to a story about dog racing that contains the following paragraph:
"Martin Griffin of Caherea, whose Bogus Ben ran a career best of 29.43 at Galway recently, was involved in the tenth race, this time with Hurry Ben from the same litter -- Hencliff Ben-Clare Abbey. However, he had to be satisfied with a runner-up spot on this occasion when the race went to the 29.90 winner, Travel on Susie, the 2/1 favourite."
Clare Abbey is Bertie's mother! So he's probably from Caherea, wherever that is. Oh, uh, County Clare, over on Ireland's west coast, south of Galway. It's the hometown of Noel Hill, "unanimously hailed as the greatest concertina player of our era".
"Legend has it that there was a concertina in every other home".
How interesting.
Other links show Mr Griffin has more Bens on the go: Bog Ben, Bogue Ben, No Hurry Ben. And just for something completely different, Nebraska.
12 February 2002
10 February 2002
Drama next door: I met F on my way home from walkies; she was en route to work. Then I met her husband, B, hurrying off. When I left the house ten minutes later to go to work myself, she was outside, trying to pry open her kitchen window!
"My husband, grrrrrrr, I'll kill him!"
It seems that none of them have a key, they've lost them all. So someone always has to be home. But B, though he knew his oldest son, M, was on his way home, had left the house empty and shut the door behind him, knowing full well that that meant the entire family was locked out -- including himself! M had duly arrived home, and had fetched F from her work to help him break in. An upstairs window at the back was open, but M would have to wait for his younger brother to get home, because he's the only one who can get in the window.
I don't feel so bad about locking myself out now.
"My husband, grrrrrrr, I'll kill him!"
It seems that none of them have a key, they've lost them all. So someone always has to be home. But B, though he knew his oldest son, M, was on his way home, had left the house empty and shut the door behind him, knowing full well that that meant the entire family was locked out -- including himself! M had duly arrived home, and had fetched F from her work to help him break in. An upstairs window at the back was open, but M would have to wait for his younger brother to get home, because he's the only one who can get in the window.
I don't feel so bad about locking myself out now.
9 February 2002
(This isn't me!)
The MRI scan was pretty interesting -- man, those tubes are small though! It must be a nightmare for anyone with claustrophobia. There was barely enough room for me to lie with my arms by my sides, and my nose seemed to be an inch from the top.
I was strapped to the table with special pads around my pelvis (the area being scanned) and then the table slid inside the tube. I was given earphones too -- tried to reject them since Frank Sinatra was warbling loudly through them but they made me keep them on for hearing protection. It does make quite a racket, but I still think Ol' Blue Eyes just added to any potential risk.
They did two one-minute scans first, then three four-minute scans. After that I was whirred back out so the nurse could inject me with dye. That was tricky, as ever -- my veins collapse as soon as the needle goes in. She ended up injecting the stuff into the back of my hand. Then back inside the tube for another four-minute scan and a one-minute one.
All over in 45 minutes from go to whoa. Very pleasant having the rest of the evening off.
I went to the supermarket and there was a huge display of Easter eggs. Sigh. I should stop getting irritated by this, but really -- Easter's not until the end of March! Who buys their eggs now?
5 February 2002
1 February 2002
The main DIY project is complete! It looks wonderful. It was incredibly hard work, what with the wallpaper steaming and all, but the result is great -- it was the worst room in the house, so it's wonderful to have it looking so good.
Here are some in-progress shots.
The wardrobe doors are in something called Mellow Sage, in a satin finish. The walls are left-over paint from the hall - went on quite well considering it's been sitting in the shed for about a year. I went mad and bought some new gloss white; there was a litre or so left over, but gloss tends not to keep as well as emulsion.
The chest of drawers is dark blue and so is the bedspread.
Here are some in-progress shots.
The wardrobe doors are in something called Mellow Sage, in a satin finish. The walls are left-over paint from the hall - went on quite well considering it's been sitting in the shed for about a year. I went mad and bought some new gloss white; there was a litre or so left over, but gloss tends not to keep as well as emulsion.
The chest of drawers is dark blue and so is the bedspread.
29 January 2002
28 January 2002
DIY update
Gruesome getting the wallpaper off, but worth the effort. I got a steamer yesterday, which has turned out to be a good buy. The wallpaper is heavy, embossed stuff, stuck on very firmly. Two different patterns too, an interesting look! Not. My worst fear was that the walls would be in bad shape, but in fact they're ok, apart from a coating of stinking nicotine. I won't need to use lining paper.
Poor Bertie is hating the whole business. He doggedly went to sleep in the corner where his duvet usually is, and only finally left when the steamer had transformed the room into a sauna.
Meanwhile outside a gale was raging. The bridge was closed to traffic -- watching it from the window I could see it heaving up and down by a terrifying amount. In the afternoon I took Bertie down to the marina to get a closer look at the river. Wild! The air was full of spray, and even though the bridge was closed it was making more noise than when it's full of cars.
A tree had come down by the waste water treatment plant and smashed part of a wall. They'd already sawn the tree up by the time we got there. A man was killed by a falling tree in Dunkeld; in the morning we walked down the railway track that runs between trees. Sheltered yes, but dangerous - the trees were whipping around and groaning.
We went out on to the jetty to check on Colin's boat. The wind out there was like a hand pushing firmly against you. Bertie, being a high-sided animal, had trouble staying upright when he was broadside to the wind.
I talked to Colin later on; he lives in Dunfermline and had to detour via Kincardine to get to work, probably an extra 30 miles on his journey. He said he phoned the bridge control and they told him the wind there was gusting up to 99mph! On the TV they said it was 99mph at the Tay bridge, and 85mph at Edinburgh, so I'm not sure if it was so strong here. Could have been -- the river really was wild.
Tomorrow I've got the course, then I'll paint the bedroom. I washed the walls with sugar soap tonight, and I'll rinse that off before bed, so it'll be ready to go tomorrow. No idea what colour. I'll probably just do it in Putty, same as the hallway.
Gruesome getting the wallpaper off, but worth the effort. I got a steamer yesterday, which has turned out to be a good buy. The wallpaper is heavy, embossed stuff, stuck on very firmly. Two different patterns too, an interesting look! Not. My worst fear was that the walls would be in bad shape, but in fact they're ok, apart from a coating of stinking nicotine. I won't need to use lining paper.
Poor Bertie is hating the whole business. He doggedly went to sleep in the corner where his duvet usually is, and only finally left when the steamer had transformed the room into a sauna.
Meanwhile outside a gale was raging. The bridge was closed to traffic -- watching it from the window I could see it heaving up and down by a terrifying amount. In the afternoon I took Bertie down to the marina to get a closer look at the river. Wild! The air was full of spray, and even though the bridge was closed it was making more noise than when it's full of cars.
A tree had come down by the waste water treatment plant and smashed part of a wall. They'd already sawn the tree up by the time we got there. A man was killed by a falling tree in Dunkeld; in the morning we walked down the railway track that runs between trees. Sheltered yes, but dangerous - the trees were whipping around and groaning.
We went out on to the jetty to check on Colin's boat. The wind out there was like a hand pushing firmly against you. Bertie, being a high-sided animal, had trouble staying upright when he was broadside to the wind.
I talked to Colin later on; he lives in Dunfermline and had to detour via Kincardine to get to work, probably an extra 30 miles on his journey. He said he phoned the bridge control and they told him the wind there was gusting up to 99mph! On the TV they said it was 99mph at the Tay bridge, and 85mph at Edinburgh, so I'm not sure if it was so strong here. Could have been -- the river really was wild.
Tomorrow I've got the course, then I'll paint the bedroom. I washed the walls with sugar soap tonight, and I'll rinse that off before bed, so it'll be ready to go tomorrow. No idea what colour. I'll probably just do it in Putty, same as the hallway.
25 January 2002
Step By Step - Reinstalling Windows
Noooooooooooo.........
But yes, I may need this during my week off.
Noooooooooooo.........
But yes, I may need this during my week off.
Pre-Date Confidence Builder
We don't have sound cards on our work computers (just as well), so I have no idea what this man is saying. But he looks as if he's saying something hilarious.
We don't have sound cards on our work computers (just as well), so I have no idea what this man is saying. But he looks as if he's saying something hilarious.
24 January 2002
I'm still having email trouble -- sometimes an email arrives only to disappear later on. It's very annoying. I apologise to anyone whose email has gone awol.
Bertie had a prang today: blasted up a bank in pursuit of a squirrel and raked a big patch of hair off on some rusted fence wire. The skin was grazed in a couple of places and it's come up in a big purple bruise but apart from a bit of stiffness he seems ok. He screamed like a baby, so it must have hurt. I called him over and inspected the damage, chatting away to him as I do. "Poor dog! Does that hurt? Ooooh, what a close shave. Hmmm... you won't need the vet I don't think..." etc etc.
Looked up, and there was a row of railway workers in their orange overalls, looking on with smirking interest.
A friend has very kindly offered to have me put to sleep if Bertie ever starts talking back (and then she's going to join the circus and make a fortune from him).
Bertie had a prang today: blasted up a bank in pursuit of a squirrel and raked a big patch of hair off on some rusted fence wire. The skin was grazed in a couple of places and it's come up in a big purple bruise but apart from a bit of stiffness he seems ok. He screamed like a baby, so it must have hurt. I called him over and inspected the damage, chatting away to him as I do. "Poor dog! Does that hurt? Ooooh, what a close shave. Hmmm... you won't need the vet I don't think..." etc etc.
Looked up, and there was a row of railway workers in their orange overalls, looking on with smirking interest.
A friend has very kindly offered to have me put to sleep if Bertie ever starts talking back (and then she's going to join the circus and make a fortune from him).
23 January 2002
PROJECT GUTENBERG -- Free Books On-Line
This is a wonderful place to rediscover old favourites. Hundreds, maybe thousands of out-of-copyright books have been transformed into text files that you can download free.
All the classics are there, plus some surprisingly modern things, like TS Elliot's poetry.
This is a wonderful place to rediscover old favourites. Hundreds, maybe thousands of out-of-copyright books have been transformed into text files that you can download free.
All the classics are there, plus some surprisingly modern things, like TS Elliot's poetry.
20 January 2002
More techie problems ... I haven't had any email for three days. It's annoying, because I know at least one email is missing -- a little pop-up message announced the arrival of a letter from Pinky, but when I checked the inbox, it wasn't there. Gone for good, it seems. An email arrived today (just junk), the first one since Thursday.
Hi-tech is fab until it breaks down.
I'm supposed to be sweeping and vaccuuming, better get cracking. It's been raining a lot, so the floors of the house look like a continuation of the outdoors.
Hi-tech is fab until it breaks down.
I'm supposed to be sweeping and vaccuuming, better get cracking. It's been raining a lot, so the floors of the house look like a continuation of the outdoors.
19 January 2002
Grumble. My printer has been playing up for ages & I haven't done anything much about it besides fiddle around uninstalling and reinstalling and plugging it in in a different place etc etc. Finally I've decided the USB port is at fault, and I was going to phone the computer shop and get them to replace it.
But I can't find the receipt for the computer. All I can find is a job sheet for the last time I took it in, in August. I've spent an hour going through absolutely everything -- finding some other stuff I'd lost along the way, of course! But not the receipt.
Bah.
But I can't find the receipt for the computer. All I can find is a job sheet for the last time I took it in, in August. I've spent an hour going through absolutely everything -- finding some other stuff I'd lost along the way, of course! But not the receipt.
Bah.
18 January 2002
I'm going to be a guinea pig! I've applied to sign up for a research trial of this new technique for dealing with fibroids that I read about on the internet.
I went to see the gynaecologist at the hospital yesterday and showed him the stuff I printed off the website and he was most impressed. "It's always great when a patient can read up about the various treatments and make an informed decision," he said. This is so different from the way doctors used to be -- they would be angry if you let slip you'd read a newspaper article about your condition.
This doctor was also terribly excited, because they've been running this trial for ages but have had trouble getting women to join it. I'm the first patient in the Edinburgh area to want to sign up (the trial's also running in Aberdeen and Glasgow). He fetched the research sister to talk to me about it -- it's quite complicated.
First of all (next week), I have to have a battery of tests and an MRI scan to see if I'm suitable. Once the results are in (a month), they "randomise" me because it's a comparative trial; they "flip a coin" to see if I'll have the new treatment or a hysterectomy. Not quite random results, it's skewed 66:33 in favour of embolisation. Then either way, it's at least a four-month wait for surgery.
So in June/July I'll either be having major surgery with a two-month recovery time, or a procedure under local anaesthetic that will hurt like blazes for two days but be all better in two weeks. And I won't know for five weeks which it is.
Today I came over all public-spirited and spent half an hour picking broken glass of one of the walkways I frequent. I noticed it yesterday, and ticked off one dog-walker who was busy kicking it into the leaf-mold at the side of the path. At least you can see it when it's laying on the tarmac. Anyway today I filled most of a supermarket carrier bag with shattered bottles -- some of the bits covered in dog poo, yechh. There's still more further along -- maybe tomorrow.
I went to see the gynaecologist at the hospital yesterday and showed him the stuff I printed off the website and he was most impressed. "It's always great when a patient can read up about the various treatments and make an informed decision," he said. This is so different from the way doctors used to be -- they would be angry if you let slip you'd read a newspaper article about your condition.
This doctor was also terribly excited, because they've been running this trial for ages but have had trouble getting women to join it. I'm the first patient in the Edinburgh area to want to sign up (the trial's also running in Aberdeen and Glasgow). He fetched the research sister to talk to me about it -- it's quite complicated.
First of all (next week), I have to have a battery of tests and an MRI scan to see if I'm suitable. Once the results are in (a month), they "randomise" me because it's a comparative trial; they "flip a coin" to see if I'll have the new treatment or a hysterectomy. Not quite random results, it's skewed 66:33 in favour of embolisation. Then either way, it's at least a four-month wait for surgery.
So in June/July I'll either be having major surgery with a two-month recovery time, or a procedure under local anaesthetic that will hurt like blazes for two days but be all better in two weeks. And I won't know for five weeks which it is.
Today I came over all public-spirited and spent half an hour picking broken glass of one of the walkways I frequent. I noticed it yesterday, and ticked off one dog-walker who was busy kicking it into the leaf-mold at the side of the path. At least you can see it when it's laying on the tarmac. Anyway today I filled most of a supermarket carrier bag with shattered bottles -- some of the bits covered in dog poo, yechh. There's still more further along -- maybe tomorrow.
17 January 2002
EditPlus Text Editor, HTML Editor, Programmers Editor for Windows
Sounds good - a replacement for Notepad for HTML hand-coding freaks. Which is probably what I'm about to become.
Sounds good - a replacement for Notepad for HTML hand-coding freaks. Which is probably what I'm about to become.
15 January 2002
The Smirking Chimp
This takes a while to load, but it's worth the wait, especially if you hate the Smirking Chimp, aka George W Bush.
This takes a while to load, but it's worth the wait, especially if you hate the Smirking Chimp, aka George W Bush.
Fixed the links, heh.
The first episode of the course was a little disappointing in that it was just going over old ground to make sure we were all up to speed. It was good, however, in that I learned a few things I didn't know. We spent a bizarrely long time looking at HTML tags that are non-standard and/or proprietorial, and which we were solemnly warned not to use. Uh huh.
The course tutor is the former head of the computer department, a lively fellow who scorns the use of editors -- we're doing all our work on Wordpad, the little text-editing program that comes with Windows. Good practice, but embarrassing; with the HTML editors you just punch the buttons with the purdy pictures on them and the program does all the coding, so I was struggling to remember what to put where. (To see what HTML code looks like, click on the View menu up the top there, and choose Source. You'll get a separate window with the code of this page in it. Kewl!)
Getting up early was traumatic, I had to set the alarm for 7:30am! To complicate matters, Bertie somehow got the impression that I needed to be up much earlier than that, and barked loudly in my ear to tell me it was ... uhhh, I don't know, it was still dark, 6am? Once again, though, I'm amazed at how much you can squeeze into a day when you get up early. Astonishing.
Yesterday, I took Bertie to Arthur's Seat for a looooong ramble, plus did a bit of shopping. When I got home I realised I'd forgotten the main item I'd gone into town for in the first place -- a spare battery for the wonderful camera -- so off I went. While in town I went to my favourite bookshop, which has fallen on hard times and is for sale. It's a tragedy! I used to live just around the corner from the South Bridge branch, the main one. It has three stories crammed full of books. It's an academic bookseller, so it has an incredible range of stuff, plus classical music CDs, plus there's a good stationery department. And it's open until 10pm weeknights. Sigh. They're hoping for a sympathetic buyer rather than an asset-stripper.
I stopped by the Cameo cinema on my way home, thinking I might see Mulholland Drive, but it was two hours to the next showing. I could have seen Apocalypse Now Redux, but I didn't feel up to it. So I went home instead.
My car's dirty again. I hate housework.
The first episode of the course was a little disappointing in that it was just going over old ground to make sure we were all up to speed. It was good, however, in that I learned a few things I didn't know. We spent a bizarrely long time looking at HTML tags that are non-standard and/or proprietorial, and which we were solemnly warned not to use. Uh huh.
The course tutor is the former head of the computer department, a lively fellow who scorns the use of editors -- we're doing all our work on Wordpad, the little text-editing program that comes with Windows. Good practice, but embarrassing; with the HTML editors you just punch the buttons with the purdy pictures on them and the program does all the coding, so I was struggling to remember what to put where. (To see what HTML code looks like, click on the View menu up the top there, and choose Source. You'll get a separate window with the code of this page in it. Kewl!)
Getting up early was traumatic, I had to set the alarm for 7:30am! To complicate matters, Bertie somehow got the impression that I needed to be up much earlier than that, and barked loudly in my ear to tell me it was ... uhhh, I don't know, it was still dark, 6am? Once again, though, I'm amazed at how much you can squeeze into a day when you get up early. Astonishing.
Yesterday, I took Bertie to Arthur's Seat for a looooong ramble, plus did a bit of shopping. When I got home I realised I'd forgotten the main item I'd gone into town for in the first place -- a spare battery for the wonderful camera -- so off I went. While in town I went to my favourite bookshop, which has fallen on hard times and is for sale. It's a tragedy! I used to live just around the corner from the South Bridge branch, the main one. It has three stories crammed full of books. It's an academic bookseller, so it has an incredible range of stuff, plus classical music CDs, plus there's a good stationery department. And it's open until 10pm weeknights. Sigh. They're hoping for a sympathetic buyer rather than an asset-stripper.
I stopped by the Cameo cinema on my way home, thinking I might see Mulholland Drive, but it was two hours to the next showing. I could have seen Apocalypse Now Redux, but I didn't feel up to it. So I went home instead.
My car's dirty again. I hate housework.
13 January 2002
I still didn't fix the links. Never mind, I'll get there eventually. Tomorrow maybe. Hmmm, better be tomorrow because I start the advanced HTML course on Tuesday and I'd look pretty stupid doing a course like that and having broken links on my website.
A productive weekend otherwise -- Anthea's kitchen looks fab with its new coat of paint, and today I washed my car. By hand, with a bucket and sponge. All the roller-brush carwashes in town were broken! Dang. But it was worth the effort, it's gleaming. Vacuumed the inside as well, it was filthy. I'm not exaggerating -- there was enough of Bertie's hair in there to construct a new dog (ok, slight exaggeration), not to mention Bonio crumbs, mud and dead leaves. And of course all the windows were covered in snot and dribble. No, not mine.
I've organised a week off later in the month, and am trying to decide what projects to attack. Inspired by Anthea's kitchen, I've been thinking interior decor. But I may tackle the shed doors too.
There are two doors, as you can see. The one on the biggest shed, on the left, isn't too bad, in that it actually works. But the wood is rotted and the paint hanging off in sheets. The window is broken, so it's damp inside. I might patch the glass rather than attempt reglazing -- it's wire-reinforced glass in a metal frame. Any advice welcome, John!
The other shed, the former coalshed, is more tricky because the door frame has pulled loose from the shed. The brickwork where the hinge bolts on is broken and has been badly repaired. The door itself is also rotted and peeling, but it's the frame that most needs doing because it makes opening and shutting the door almost impossible. This shed doesn't have a window, so at least it's dry in there.
I don't know whether to replace both doors or to try and repair them. They are solid doors (apart from the bits that are rotten!), with nice old-fashioned knobs, so I'd like to keep them if poss. I may be able to patch in new bits of clean wood at the bottom, which is where most of the damage is. There's a ceiling light in the main shed that I may try and repair too.
If this sounds difficult, the redecoration project is nearly as bad -- it involves stripping off badly-hung textured wallpaper and filling any holes/cracks in the plaster, then hanging lining paper and painting it. Big, big job.
Minor projects also in the queue: mending loose tiles in the bathroom and putting sealant along the edge of the new kitchen tiles.
A productive weekend otherwise -- Anthea's kitchen looks fab with its new coat of paint, and today I washed my car. By hand, with a bucket and sponge. All the roller-brush carwashes in town were broken! Dang. But it was worth the effort, it's gleaming. Vacuumed the inside as well, it was filthy. I'm not exaggerating -- there was enough of Bertie's hair in there to construct a new dog (ok, slight exaggeration), not to mention Bonio crumbs, mud and dead leaves. And of course all the windows were covered in snot and dribble. No, not mine.
I've organised a week off later in the month, and am trying to decide what projects to attack. Inspired by Anthea's kitchen, I've been thinking interior decor. But I may tackle the shed doors too.
There are two doors, as you can see. The one on the biggest shed, on the left, isn't too bad, in that it actually works. But the wood is rotted and the paint hanging off in sheets. The window is broken, so it's damp inside. I might patch the glass rather than attempt reglazing -- it's wire-reinforced glass in a metal frame. Any advice welcome, John!
The other shed, the former coalshed, is more tricky because the door frame has pulled loose from the shed. The brickwork where the hinge bolts on is broken and has been badly repaired. The door itself is also rotted and peeling, but it's the frame that most needs doing because it makes opening and shutting the door almost impossible. This shed doesn't have a window, so at least it's dry in there.
I don't know whether to replace both doors or to try and repair them. They are solid doors (apart from the bits that are rotten!), with nice old-fashioned knobs, so I'd like to keep them if poss. I may be able to patch in new bits of clean wood at the bottom, which is where most of the damage is. There's a ceiling light in the main shed that I may try and repair too.
If this sounds difficult, the redecoration project is nearly as bad -- it involves stripping off badly-hung textured wallpaper and filling any holes/cracks in the plaster, then hanging lining paper and painting it. Big, big job.
Minor projects also in the queue: mending loose tiles in the bathroom and putting sealant along the edge of the new kitchen tiles.
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