I fixed my computer! Everything works now except Outlook Express, the email program, so I'll just go back to using Eudora. Hey ho. I'm so pleased I managed to fix everything else though, it's great being back on the net. And I did it without having to phone the shop and grovel to know-it-all 16-year-olds. Phew.

Drama at work: there's been a fire at the printing plant. We're still waiting to hear whether they can print a paper, and if so, what size it will be. It was all just about ready to go when the fire broke out, so basically we'll have to dump half the stories. All that work, for nothing!

I checked the tide tables last night and yesterday's tide was pretty high, 6.1ft over chart datum. This afternoon's was predicted to be even higher, 6.2ft. It certainly looked high as I left town just before 4pm, and it wasn't due to peak until nearly half past.

Faye phoned tonight, she's coming up on the 8th, staying for 10 days, hurrah. She's such a great guest, and Bertie absolutely adores her.

UKHO EasyTide Tidal Prediction

Tide tables ... I've been trying to find out how high the tide was this afternoon, because I forgot to look it up in the tide table before I left home. But this site just does predictions; useful enough but not what I wanted to know.

The thing was, the tide was the highest I've seen it. The tides do normally vary with the moon phase -- neaps (small range, after half moon) and springs (large range, after full and new moon) -- and the effect was probably exaggerated by a swell, but the waves were slopping up over the harbour wall, in the little old harbour this is, I didn't go to the marina today.

It's been raining (and snowing) a lot lately and as I've said before, everywhere I go walking is a marsh. The groundwater seems to be high and maybe that affects the level of the river -- add that to a spring tide and whoops! wet feet!

Happily I'm just far enough back from the shore for it not to matter. People right on the water might be a tad nervous ...

My computer is still broken. I tinkered for an hour or so, managed to screw up a couple of other things, nothing important. It's all to do with drivers. Very annoying little files. A couple of vaguely identified bits of hardware reckon they need a driver but they're so vaguely identified I can't work out where the driver might be. One is PCI Communication Device and the other is PCI Mass Storage Device.

The most irritating part is that the plug-and-play program doesn't tell you what the driver is called. It knows it if it sees it, it's just not letting on. So what I've been having to do is go through all the CDs that might possibly be relevant -- for the motherboard, the Sparq drive, the sound card, blah blah blah -- looking for folders that may have drivers in them and being told "No, the driver's not in there, try again."

On Friday I'll have time to call the computer shop for some help. Tomorrow I've got a trip to the dentist for one filling to be repaired. I love my dentist, Callum, he's cured me of my fear of dentists. I have terrible teeth, mainly because I didn't look after them but also because I was alway too scared (and too skint) to get them fixed. They were full of fillings and a total mess until one time when I was on the dole in London I got the worst ones capped, in gold, for nothing. Now I'm more careful and most of the work Callum does is repairs or replacement crowns.

English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.

English Teeth, Happy Teeth!
Always having fun
Champing down on bits of fish
And sausages half done.

English Teeth, HEROES' Teeth!
Here them click! and clack!
Let's sing a song of praise to them -
Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.

-- Spike Milligan (RIP, sadly missed already)

It's not just English teeth, kiwi teeth can be just as bad. I blame dental nurses -- there was a dental clinic (aka murder house) attached to most schools, staffed by a kindly young woman in a starched white outfit and a red cardie. When I first started going she had a foot-powered drill ... very slow, excruciatingly painful. Later she had a whizzy electric drill, but there were still no painkillers. Big thrills were being allowed to mix up your own filling with a little glass pestle and mortar, and being given a cottonwool fairy for being "good", ie not kicking her.

These dental nurses drilled everything in sight, everyone had fillings.

Ooop, time to go home. More later.

How weird is this? I was checking who'd been looking at my website & it was mainly nhst.no (Anthea in Oslo), net.nz and co.nz (friends & family) and scotsman.com (me). But this caught my eye:

Domain Name SCREENCAPTURE2. (Unknown)
IP Address 202.108.221.# (APNIC - Pacific Rim)
Language Setting English
Operating System Microsoft WinNT
Browser Internet Explorer 6.0
Mozilla/4.0 (compatible; MSIE 6.0; Windows NT 5.0)
Time of Visit Feb 21 2002 6:33:43 am
Last Page View Feb 21 2002 6:33:43 am
Visit Length 0 seconds
Page Views 1
Referring URL
Visit Entry Page http://www.hockadilly.co.uk/
Visit Exit Page http://www.hockadilly.co.uk/
Time Zone UTC+8:00
CCT - China Coast Time
Russian Federation Zone 7
Visitor's Time Feb 21 2002 2:33:43 pm

screencapture2 isn't a valid URL, and the IP address doesn't seem to be valid either. Spooky.

W3Schools Online Web Tutorials

"Inside W3Schools you will find a large number of free Web building tutorials, from basic HTML and XHTML tutorials, to advanced XML, XSL and WAP tutorials."

I broke my computer. When I told my boss about it he asked if I'd broken it "physically or mentally". "Mentally," I said. "I broke its spirit."

A while back I mentioned that I might have to reinstall Windows, because I've been having a lot of annoying little problems, the main one being that the printer doesn't work properly.

Well on Saturday I reinstalled Windows and now the printer works, but the modem doesn't. And my email program didn't reinstall properly either.

I hate Bill Gates.

On the bright side I had a decluttering fit during which I found the receipt/guarantee for the computer, so if my tinkerings fail to put things right I can always phone the shop for help. They've been pretty good in the past. Their solution though is just to wipe the whole hard drive and start from scratch.

My weekend was magically extended on Sunday when I arrived in at work to find Colin already logged in and doing my job. I made a mistake with the rota -- I had to do them all again after the IT dept accidentally wiped them -- and had given myself a holiday this week (in reality it was last month). So I let Colin carry on while I headed for the cinema to see Iris. Excellent film. Judi Dench is wonderful -- you can feel the fear as the slide starts. The most frightening scene for me was when she slips out the front door without her husband noticing and ends up wandering around the streets in the rain. People just go bustling past the "mad old lady", no-one realising who she is -- her life, her talent, her intellect mean nothing. She's rescued by an old friend; and of course her books and Bayley's record her worth in the end. So I found it an uplifting film in the end, rather than depressing.

Yesterday I had my hair done, got the roots touched up and a cut. The dye is stressing my hair out a bit so I had a hot-oil treatment too. But even then as Sandy, the stylist, combed it I pointed out that it's so fine and puny that it sticks straight out even when it's wet. He promptly combed it straight out on each side and stood there giggling -- I looked like Pippi Longstocking.

I saw another good film last night, Ocean's Eleven. George Clooney, mmmmm, he's so peachy. The cinema was in a new shopping centre near Leith, and I arrived early so I could do some shoe shopping. I bought two pairs! My favourite pair are comfy, nice and wide for my broad feet, with low-cut backs that don't rub on my poor afflicted achilles tendons. I'd like to wear girlier shoes, but they make my feet hurt -- sometimes bad shoes can make my whole body hurt, especially my ankles and knees. So comfort comes first. The other pair were trainers to replace my old worn-out ones. Also very comfy, good strong support.

I think I'll go back to Ocean Terminal -- I don't care for shopping centres usually, but it's nice and quiet. "Unsuccessful" I think they call it.

I went to Ocean's Eleven with Fiona, who I used to work with, and afterwards we had dinner at a fish restaurant in Leith. The mussels were wonderful and so was the wine, but the grilled sardines were a bit dry, having been scorched.

And then home to walk the dog -- who is on short walks at the moment due to what I think (hope) is just a sprain. Luckily the weather's been terrible, wet and cold, so bad that he hasn't wanted to go out some days. Every place we go regularly is a sea of mud, but I'm managing to keep the house reasonably clean with a rigorous programme of paw-wiping. I feel very sorry for the owners of spaniels and similar.

I managed to get to bed early last night so wasn't too shattered by the early start for the html course this morning. We're doing some really interesting stuff at the moment, and if I'm too tired I don't take it in. I've got the dentist on Thursday morning (repair to an old filling) so that'll be an early start too.

Good news! I have been randomised for embolisation. Or womblisation as Andrew waggishly calls it.

This is the research study I volunteered for -- I'm going to be a guinea pig for the new technique. I'm thrilled, because the alternative was hysterectomy, which I wasn't keen on at all. For the last few years I've been trying a variety of other things -- herbal tonics, special diets, craniosacral therapy -- but nothing worked (though the herbs did help a bit, and I'm going back to the herbalist for another course).

With embolisation they thread a catheter via the groin up into the arteries supplying blood to the fibroids, then inject some material, polystyrene or similar, that blocks the blood flow. The fibroids just shrivel up and die, all in the space of a couple of weeks. The procedure's carried out by a radiologist, and I get to meet him in a few weeks for a chat and to sign away my right to sue if it all goes horribly wrong. After that I wait. And wait. And wait. The waiting list isn't too bad, actually, only three to four months.

It's great news, such a relief to know I'm not going under the knife. The mortality rate is much lower for embolisation for a start, only two deaths in 1,200 procedures in Europe and none in 4,000 US cases. They're really careful about infection: before the op they take a swab and if anything at all grows they give you antibiotics and don't operate until you're all clear. So I feel really confident. Plus, by the time I go in the department will be in the new hospital.

In other news: Anthea and her cat have found a new home. Errrr ... that's it. Actually lots going on, but nothing worth reporting!

Tuesdays are gruesome. Up at sparrow-fart, not even time for coffee this morning (yes, I know it says Wednesday up there) before walking the dog, then off to varsity for the course. It's finally getting interesting though, so it's worth it. The tutor still spends far too much time getting us to practise stuff he tells us won't work; I'd rather we learnt more about the stuff that does.

After that I was shattered. I'd intended to go to bed early yesterday but Anthea phoned after midnight (flat-hunting woes in Oslo); not that I was in bed, I was watching a video, Dancing in the Dark. So in the end I got about five hours' sleep. I thought when you got older you needed less sleep! I seem to need more. Five hours should be plenty.

So this afternon I thought I'd have a nap for a couple of hours -- hah! I woke at 4pm, what a waste of a day. Luckily I had it off, having worked Sunday. It was pissing down with rain anyway, so I didn't miss much.

Crocuses out everywhere! So I need to start working in the garden, weeding and so forth. DId some pruning and tidying last weekend, and also planted a gooseberry bush Chad gave me, a cutting from one of his. Garlic is springing up all over the place. I planted it a bit late so I don't know how it will do this year. I also planted the weird-looking flowers some of the bulbs grew last year -- I'd just flung them down and they'd started sprouting on their own.

Mudcat -- song lyrics

I was singing in the car on the way home last night and discovered my voice has gone rusty from disuse! Cracked and croaking. It had improved a bit by the time I got home, but I want to keep in practice.

So this site was a great find ... it's mainly traditional folk songs, but there are a few show tunes too and foreign oddities.

AFGHANISTAN (MOSCOW NIGHTS2)
(Frank Hayes, Kathy Sobanski)

Moscow nights are cold, but they're crisp and clear
Let's go South for winter this year
To Afghanistan, it's such a lovely land
And the people are Russian as can be.
In Afghanistan, right next to Pakistan,
With it's warm water port upon the Sea.

Exciting things are happening there every day,
And each night a fireworks display
In Afghanistan, it's such a lovely land
And it's warmer by far than Moscovy
In Afghanistan, or maybe old Iran
Where the oil fields are wonderful to see.

Exotic sights to see in each quaint old town--
--those that were not burned to the ground
In Afghanistan, it's such a lovely land
And the natives are friendly as they can be
In Afghanistan, it should be Russian land,
Just a small part of Brezhnev's legacy.

No clue as to what the tune should be!

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.

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.

(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?

Hex headquarters
Why a hexadecimal clock is better ...

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.

I think the email problem is solved. Can't be sure, but it seems like someone somehow got hold of my password. Which is kind of scary....

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.

Step By Step - Reinstalling Windows

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.

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).