Whew! Busy or something. The gas man came today and drilled a big hole in the livingroom wall. It's about the same size as the airbricks in the other rooms but it's down near the floor. It has a grille on it but outside there's just a hood thing, so I should be able to stuff a towel or similar in it to stop the flow of freezing air across the livingroom floor.

This is as close to crazy as it gets -- I pay them £200 to make my home safe from noxious fumes, then I fix it so it doesn't work. But really, it can't be energy-efficient to have bloody great holes in your walls. It's medieval.

My television's starting to go on the fritz -- the sound and colour go very high or very low without input from me, and the remote only works if you're standing right next to the set. I'll shop for a cheapo replacement on Saturday. I've had this one for years, nearly ten years I think, and it was second hand to start with. I want a portable set with Teletext, a SCART socket and a headphone socket. Should be able to get one for £100 or so. (Yes -- Currys and Dixons both have a Sanyo for £110 with all that.)

My trip to Oxford next month is firming up. Colin is OK to look after Bertie -- I have to leave him behind because a) he can't stay at Mrs Kahn's and b) there won't be any room in the car for him and his luggage. I'd wanted Colin and Jenny to have a practice run at hosting Bertie before I go into hospital anyway, so it works out well.

Speaking of hospital, there's still no word on when I'm going in. I'm supposed to meet the radiologist first, but I haven't heard from him either. They have moved out to the new hospital already, so maybe they're still getting themselves sorted out. I'm quite glad they've moved -- there's been an outbreak of the "superbug" at the old infirmary, all the cardio patients got it and one died. Brrrr.

I added a picture to The Mirror Project. It's a fun thing to do -- I have a couple of others to submit, also of reflections in water, I just haven't gotten around to sending them in.

Long day at work today -- 11am start and I'm still here at 9:30pm. I'll go home soon, just waiting for our Jerusalem correspondent to file some copy.

I absolutely must have this drug.

This is my favourite quote from the article: "It is possible it could become a drug of abuse because it would enhance the performance of athletes," he said. No! You really think so?

This site has a link to what it calls "a hugely inappropriate animated tribute to the Queen Mother".

I think it's sort of sweet, in a South Park way.

The weather continues to be glorious and I continue to spend most of my time off outdoors rather than writing to my family. Sorry about that. Today I washed the car -- after walking the dog in a solemn manner befitting the solemnity of the solemn event I was missing on the telly. The lull that fell over the land was quite noticeable, as was the feverish buzz of activity once the funeral was over.

Tesco was shut from 10.30am to 1pm! So was Marks & Spencer! Amazing! The local co-op supermarket Scottishly made do with a two-minute silence.

The gas man visited this morning to fix something I think is called the flue annulus. The previous gas man had quoted me for that work and for drilling a hole through my wall because the window vents are substandard (even after I nagged and nagged at the window firm to make sure the ventilation was up to scratch); but he said I didn't need to get the vent done, it was the flue work that made my gas fire AT RISK (as the yellow sign said that he left attached to it).

But (sigh) today's gas man said no, there's a regulation to say that you can get the ventilation put right without having the flue done, but not the other way round. The bill will be £200 rather than £67.

I gave in -- ok, just drill a bloody hole in the wall, I don't care. I'll care more next Thursday when they do the work, and even more than that when I get the bill. Joys of home ownership.

Saturday I spent at a wonderful spot north of St Andrews, Tentsmuir, which several people had recommended. It's fantastic. The forest borders the beach, making it perfect for walking Bertie. He enjoys running on the sand for about half an hour, then he's sick of it. At Tentsmuir we walked along the edge of the forest, so he was in amongst the trees hunting rabbits, and I was in the dunes enjoying the sunshine and the sight and sound of surf.

I took loads of photos, will post some soon. I have to do some work now, spot you later.

I love this story. How many chihuahuas is your child worth?

[Sadly the story's vanished off the Washington Post's archives -- a woman had tried to swap her baby for a chihuahua. The dog-owner only dobbed her in after she upped the price to two chihuahuas. Or something.]

Back at work, sigh. It's not so bad, I guess. The printing presses threw a wobbly and our deadlines were brought forward, which made for a last-minute frenzy; on the positive side I get to go home early -- and the early deadlines are in force all week.

The news is mainly depressing -- the Middle East situation just about reduces me to tears. I went through a strongly pro-Zionist phase as a teenager, after reading Exodus but gradually changed my views and now I'm more sympathetic towards the Palestinians. As sympathetic as you can be to people willing to blow themselves up in cafes crowded with families. I just don't think the Israelis' increasing aggression is going to do anyone any favours. They're reaping what they sowed.

Back in my mundane world, yesterday I dragged myself off to the shops to get some new clothes. It's an ordeal! I did very well though, I got two pairs of trousers (black), two blouses (one red, one pinkish stripes) and three t-shirts. Favourite purchase is probably a red long-sleeved t-shirt. The blouses are both the same style: short, fitted, with three-quarter length sleeves. This is a real departure for me. I'm paranoid about the size of my bum, so it's risking severe trauma to wear anything bum-revealing.

The paranoia's not entirely unfounded. I was in the changing rooms at the swimming baths in Edinburgh once when a little boy said in a piercing voice: "Mummy, come and look, there's a lady with a really, really big bottom!" And then last year I was strolling down the esplanade wearing comfy loose trousers and a short t-shirt a bloke behind me said: "There's a big arse arse arse."

So I'm trying to re-educate myself to accept my body and not feel bad about the harsh things ignorant people say, and not to cover up the bits I don't like. The blouses are cute. OK, I'm not wearing one of them today, I'm wearing a loose white linen shirt, but I WILL wear them.

I got a great book as a reward for getting through the gruelling task of clothes-buying (hey, it's hot in those changing cubicles!) -- The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson. He's one of my favourite SF writers, but most of his books are grounded in the here and now, even his series on the colonisation of Mars. My favourite of his is Antarctica -- even if you don't like science fiction you might enjoy this.

Time to go home!

YESSSSS!!!!!!

No, not because the Queen Mother is dead, bless her, but because I've finally got my printer working (touch wood). The computer shop didn't find anything wrong with the USB, and after a lot of tooth-grinding and uninstalling and reinstalling, I've managed to fix it myself. Just printed out a humungous picture very briskly. Whew.

The good thing about all the hassle was that in desperation at being offline for so long, I dug out my old computer and booted it up. And had a brainwave -- maybe Faye would like this! She's been talking about getting a laptop. So I phoned her today and she's thrilled. I was going to get a new monitor anyway, so that's just a mouse and keyboard to add and we're away. So the plan is to go down to Oxford in May, set the computer up for her and give her a crash course.

I've had an extremely lazy and enjoyable week off, didn't go away in the end but stayed in my favourite place -- home. The weather has been great, so I've been for lots of long walks. Also got the boiler serviced -- it needs some work on the flue, so the man left a DANGER AT RISK notice on it. Also had the car's handbrake fixed. Bertie ended up in the footwell a couple of times today due to the now excellent braking.

What else? Nothing! Hah! Lovely.

OK I'm just going to unplug my computer and take it into the shop, and since I'm on holiday this week that's probably it from me for a few days at least.

Ta ta!

Slow start to the week's activities, mainly due to having been suckered in to watching some of the Oscars last night. How weird is it? First there's the compere, Whoopi Goldberg, then there's another compere or two to give away each prize, plus extra comperes thrown in to announce little bits of film. Then, for no reason I can think of, there are Donald Sutherland and Glen Close bursting in to announce the ad breaks (on a great big olde-worlde microphonic apparatus), and bizarrely, they seem to be also acting as security guards for the statuettes, which are stacked on racks behind them.

Of course since the show is on BBC2, which doesn't have commercials, they have to fill in the ad break time, so there's a studio with Jonathan Ross and assorted celebs droning on.

So anyway, I got up late, walked the dog, then got on to my phone calls. The Window Advisory Service is deep in dealings with Roxburghe Windows' insurance company to see who's going to deal with outstanding customer complaints. Oh. Dear. The woman I spoke to couldn't give me a time frame but asked politely for my patience. Hmm.

The computer firm are blaming a) the printer and/or b) Windoze for my printing problems. I'm to take the computer in to the shop so they can hook it up to a printer there and check it out. I've backed up in case they decide to wipe the hard drive -- that does seem to be their solution to most things.

Then I mixed up some fungicide and went round spraying things with it.

Then I was hungry, so I had an early dinner (grilled salmon steak, mash, carrots and cabbage, delish). Then my boss phoned and said not to bother coming in next Sunday, he'll take Wednesday off instead and work Sunday for me. Hurrah! Even more days off. That's me off right through to next Monday now.

Right now I'm going to have a shower then check out movie times. I might see The Royal Tenenbaums, or either In The Bedroom or The Son's Room. I would have definitely gone to In The Bedroom, except that I watched some live streaming video of the Oscar Red Carpet at work last night, and Sissy Spacek's nose made me feel sick. You can see up her nostrils from the front, you know? It's a bit Michael Jackson. Ewww.


Judge for yourself

I might go to Bridge of Orchy and stay here, or I might go to Rannoch Station and stay here. Both come with personal recommendations and both take dogs.

I usually stay in B&Bs rather than hotels because they're usually friendlier, but these don't sound too bad. And someone also suggested doing a walk I've wanted to do for a while, Corrour to Rannoch Station. You get the train to Corrour, just one stop, and walk back. Previously I've stayed at the Corrour station bunkhouse or at the youth hostel at Loch Ossian, and the one time I planned to do the walk to Rannoch Station the snow was so deep I couldn't see the path & decided not to risk it.

Bridge of Orchy is on the West Highland Way, so there is plenty of good walking there too.

If there are no sheep, Bertie can roam off the lead. He ignores any animals bigger than himself, such as cattle and deer. Corrour is a shooting estate, so it's all deer and ponies. Not sure about Bridge of Orchy.

Undiscovered Scotland

I'm thinking of going away this week, just for a few days, and someone drew this site to my attention. It's "a combination of business directory, accommodation listing and visitor guide. It includes a comprehensive range of links and a large and growing collection of in-depth and illustrated feature pages about places to go and things to do, and mountains to climb".

Great photos too.

Lunch yesterday at Tapas Ole, yum yum. Last month I had grilled sardines at Fishers in Leith; they were sour, bony, dry things, covered in crumbly oatmeal. At Tapas Ole they came fizzing and sizzling on a griddle, moist and tasty. Everything was superb, from the squid rings to the omelet to the meatballs. Triple yum. Afterwards we all went back to John's for coffee -- he and Penny live just along from the restaurant -- and it was after 4pm when I got home.

I made a mess of the rotas again, gah, I can't believe it. It's like a recurring nightmare. But the good side is that I've got next week off -- I made the mistake by copying over an old rota without changing the week off I had that month. I may go away or I may stay at home, I'll see how I feel. It will be a week of sponteneity interspersed with catching up on chores.

Like I have to hassle the Window Advisory Group again about the french doors. The seal has come out on one of the doors, an ongoing problem the company that installed them was meant to be fixing. I phoned them yet again the week before last to discover they've been taken over by another firm. The Window Advisory Group is "getting back" to me on what happens with the guarantee. Grrr. Oh, and I have to get a new wing mirror for my car - the passenger side one was broken off at the weekend. And then there's the garden. And I could do with some new summer clothes. And I really should get in touch with Kate, and Sandy, and phone Fiona in London ...

I'm going to be busy.

I live in such a friendly town, it astonishes me. Like today, I set out with the dog and first of all we meet the MS lady's son and her three dogs (multiple schlerosis, not Microsoft). Tigger barks and huffs and carries on like Margaret Thatcher, but otherwise they all get on famously.

After a play session Bertie and I head off to the marina. En route the bridge maintenance crew pass in their truck and toot and all wave. This tooting and waving thing is because I walk past them sitting under the bridge in their truck nearly every day. The older bloke who always sits in the middle has a shih tzu. One day they were all asleep in the cab, they looked so sweet I nearly took a photo. (I didn't because the engine was running and I thought, what if they're all dead?)

So we walk along the road and the bridge maintenance crew come back along, having done a circuit through the marina, and toot and all wave again. Then we're on the path up to the water treatment plant and Bertie goes on alert and disappears. It's my next door neighbour down by the water with Marble and Lazlo, the gun dogs from the house at the end of the street. Big hysterical bum-sniffing session ensues (the dogs, ha ha very funny). As Frances and I are yoo-hooing, who should drive up but Bridie with her Butch, more waving and tooting.

So I walk round the path and meet up with Frances at the jetty and we walk on together. By the marina office we meet Susy the Yorkie being carried by her owner, who lives in the sheltered housing. Back out on the road, the bridge maintenance crew go past yet again, toot toot, wave wave. I'd love to have their job, what a life they have. You never see them actually doing anything.

Then just as Frances peels off to take the dogs home, her neighbour on the other side, owner of the elderly cats, drives up.

Part of the reason I got a dog was the social aspect, and good grief, it really works. The British love dogs and if you've got a dog, everyone talks to you. Even people who don't have dogs talk to you. I think it's partly because it's something to talk about, but also it helps people recognise you.

Like the checkout woman who served me in the supermarket yesterday: "Is your dog all right?" she inquired. "Errr, yes..." Then the penny dropped. Her dog, Wallace, a frisky young Staffordshire, had tried to hump Bertie the day before. "I was soooo embarrassed!" she trilled, going bright red at the memory. This was the day after the Audrey Hepburn dress-up session. Coincidence? I wonder.

Bertie's been living at my house for a whole year today. Happy anniversary, Bertie!


Why the long face? (That's my favourite Bertie joke. He doesn't get it.)

Since I'm busy Photoshopping, I'll give you the "shipwreck" pictures. They're pretty convincing, I think.


OK so here's what we saw.


And here's a closeup of the "ship" that has "run aground". I can't find a normal pic of the same scene, but I can tell you that in calm weather that jetty isn't black, it's sort of beige. It doesn't look anything like a ship.

Once again, blame Pinky.

To quote her email: "I hope he didn't hate dressing up too much." Well the answer is that he hates dressing up just as much as the cat did when we were kids. Pinky probably doesn't remember forcing it into a doll's nightie and pushing it around in the pram, but I do. The things pets do for food!


"Houndstooth? Is that supposed to be funny?"

"These glasses don't fit right. I am so never working with you again."

"Ow! Get your hands off me! I'm calling my agent!"

Stylist's confession: I Photoshopped out my hand in the picture posted yesterday.

This is Pinky's fault.

She's bought a red sports car, you see, a convertible, and she's invited Bertie over for a spin. "He'll have to wear a styley head scarf and sunnies though", she said.

Got up early this morning and drove Faye to the railway station. Last time she visited I ran late and as a result she missed her train. This time we got there over half an hour early, so we had time for a coffee. I don't think she's had a restful journey ... as she was putting away her luggage and saying goodbye, a dozen schoolgirls were climbing on, some wearing plastic policemen's helmets. Oh dear.

After that I spent an hour noodling around in Homebase. I bought a very dangerous-looking item, a Stanley knife with a saw attachment. It's to use as a pruning saw -- Faye gave me a lesson in rose pruning while she was here. After I got home I put it to good use, clearing a lot of dead wood from the big rose bush at the front. I also got some oriental poppies, some hyacinths in a pot (marked down), a new toilet seat and a new cistern handle. The old seat didn't fit properly. The new one does! And the old cistern handle was leaking. The new one doesn't! Very satisfying. The new seat is also black, swish.

We had a very busy few days before Faye left, though I ran out of steam in the end. Visited the Deep Sea World aquarium, Butterfly World, a big garden centre and Arthur's Seat. I thought about going up to the Highland Wildlife Park but decided against it, it was a bit far. Faye went to the zoo last week, but didn't see wolves. They have wolves at the wildlife park.

Tate -- the Tate Gallery's wonderful website.

Browse, browse, browse ... it's very quiet at work tonight. We always think nervously about the Queen Mother at times like this, too scared to go home early, just in case.

It's nice to have pretty pictures to look at in the meantime. Like this one by Blake:


(Later: hmmm... it seems to have disappeared...)

Disappointingly I couldn't view anything by Patrick Heron, one of my top favourite artists, because it's all copyright to his estate (he died in 1999).

Browse, browse, browse...

Here we are! Serigraph.

Or even better, Rumbold Vertical Four: Green in Green with Blue and Red: September 1970


The article that last picture is illustrating is worth a look, Letter from London, on artnet.com.

I love the internet.

It's stopped being gorgeous, but at least I got a little weeding done. There's a new weed invading the front garden -- there were only a couple of them last year, they sort of crept in the front gate. But this year there are a lot more. I don't know what they are -- low, flat rosettes of green leaves that spread out on runners. They have shallow roots and thin, easily-broken red stems. The bindweed isn't as bad this year, though. I'm going to fill the beds with rockery-type plants that will spread out. The beds are looking really feeble.

The bluebells are coming up patchily, because last winter I didn't realise what they were and grubbed a lot of the bulbs out. Tsk. They'll spread back again, I guess. Or I could dig them all out and replant them out the back, by the back fence. They'd look nice along there. Then I could fill the main front bed with lavender and hostas. Or something. (My one hosta is dead, I think.)

A couple of weeks ago I hacked back the dog-rose hedge at the front and it's coming away nicely. It was really scraggy. Next year I might cut it back even further, and dump some compost round the roots. The lovely red climbing rose at the front is also doing well. The hydrangeas I dug up and transplanted last year are all racing away, and the cut-price rock rose is thriving too. And of course there's garlic everywhere. So it's not all a disaster.

Tomorrow Faye and I will go round a couple of garden centres -- the beds at the front look really dry and thin, so I'll get some bags of compost to put on them, plus some plants. Then we'll go to the movies, maybe Lord of the Rings again, hee hee.

I didn't do any gardening today, it was too freezing and windy. Instead I walked the dog for a couple of hours, then fixed some links on my website and did a virus scan. A layzee day.