It's completely foul today -- sleet, high winds, urgh. Got drenched on the morning walk but once I've dried out I'm off out again -- to spend my vouchers, whee! I've also got to visit the supermarket -- the shelves are bare -- but I might leave that till later on. Last time I supermarketed on a Saturday it was so crowded I nearly had an agrophobia attack. It helped that everyone else seemed to be as shocked as I was at how crowded it was, leading to a kind of Blitz spirt where we all co-operated rather than stressing out at aisle-blockers. I much prefer supermarket shopping at 2am; the only disadvantage is not being allowed to buy booze.
It's been a hectic week at work, due to Hutton and its aftermath, so I'm looking forward to having a weekend off. Shopping today, lunch with Andrew and supper with Fiona tomorrow, housework on Monday. Faye arrives on Tuesday, back from her NZ sojourn. I hope the weather's improved by then!
31 January 2004
29 January 2004
:: cold in winter shock
Yes, after a nice little mild spell it's gone all Arctic again. Or what passes for Arctic here in Blighty. The papers say things like "snow causes chaos in Highlands", when in fact they closed one or two roads (which are closed by snow so often they have snow gates and special poles so the snow ploughs know where to go) and Mrs McPherson's sister Agnes slipped and sprained her ankle on her way down to the shop for a pint of milk and a loaf. Arctic is permafrost, people. Arctic is 50 below zero plus windchill, it's frostbite and hypothermia.
I still get a big thrill from snow, though. My first winter here there was a cracking snowfall one day, so I jumped in my car and drove out to the countryside to get some photos. Driving down through the Borders, visibility started to fall as the wind piled driving snow up in drifts against the fences. How exciting! Then, in the next village, a policeman flagged me down. "Where are you heading?" he asked. Heading? Errrr.... "Jedburgh," I said, having seen that on a sign somewhere. He looked concerned. "You'll not get to Jedburgh this way, the road's closed," he said. "I'm not sure how you'll get there, let's see..." "That's ok, I can stay with friends," I babbled. I turned the car round and went straight home, chastened. I didn't even have a coat on, never mind a thermos flask of coffee, a shovel, sacks for traction, blankets, a torch .... Tsk tsk.
Today I confined myself to a nice walk with the dog - who very much enjoyed the snow.
On Monday we went to Dollar Glen -- it was a good walk, but hell on my knees, despite my walking stick (sorry, Adventure Pole). It was fiercely cold up on the tops, although the sun was shining.
Here's Bertie striking a striking pose (he held it for four shots, while I messed about with exposures and flash!).
And another one, dog walkers on Blackford Hill:
I still get a big thrill from snow, though. My first winter here there was a cracking snowfall one day, so I jumped in my car and drove out to the countryside to get some photos. Driving down through the Borders, visibility started to fall as the wind piled driving snow up in drifts against the fences. How exciting! Then, in the next village, a policeman flagged me down. "Where are you heading?" he asked. Heading? Errrr.... "Jedburgh," I said, having seen that on a sign somewhere. He looked concerned. "You'll not get to Jedburgh this way, the road's closed," he said. "I'm not sure how you'll get there, let's see..." "That's ok, I can stay with friends," I babbled. I turned the car round and went straight home, chastened. I didn't even have a coat on, never mind a thermos flask of coffee, a shovel, sacks for traction, blankets, a torch .... Tsk tsk.
Today I confined myself to a nice walk with the dog - who very much enjoyed the snow.
On Monday we went to Dollar Glen -- it was a good walk, but hell on my knees, despite my walking stick (sorry, Adventure Pole). It was fiercely cold up on the tops, although the sun was shining.
Here's Bertie striking a striking pose (he held it for four shots, while I messed about with exposures and flash!).
And another one, dog walkers on Blackford Hill:
22 January 2004
:: whoops
Another hiatus while I get busy with other things. I've actually spent a ridiculous amount of time finessing the comments (see below). Ridiculous considering how few comments are left, that is. But it was interesting tinkering with them.
I wrote to blogger about the intermittent problem getting this blog to show, and they said they're working on it. In the meantime, if you get a message about the page not being available, click on the refresh button on the browser and it should show all right.
I had a whole weekend off and managed to squander most of it faffing around with mp3s and reading books (I'm reading Forty Signs of Rain by Kim Stanley Robinson; Last Act In Palmyra, a Falco mystery, by Lindsey Davis; and The Tattooed Girl by Joyce Carol Oates). I did get in a few good walks, though, and Andrew swung by for lunch and to collect the furniture from Anthea's old flat: a double bed and a chest of drawers. He brought the main farm car, a big Astra, and it swallowed everything up no trouble. He's just e-mailed to say that his aunt had an awful accident the other day: one of her excitable dogs pulled her over while she was walking in the woods and she broke her ankle badly in two places. She managed to crawl home and from there phoned Andrew, who rushed over and rode shotgun in the ambulance, guiding the driver through the country roads. They've been minding the three dogs since then, though they're going into kennels shortly.
I also went to see a fantastic film, which I've been meaning to see for ages: Touching the Void. It's the true story of Simon Yates and Joe Simpson, who climbed a mountain in Peru. Simpson fell and broke his leg in a fairly gruesome way, so Yates one tried to get him down by lowering him on a rope, section by section. At one point, though, he went over the edge of a cliff, so he couldn't take the slack off the rope so his Yates could come down to lower him down the next bit. So Yates had to cut the rope, letting him fall into a crevasse. When he saw the crevasse he assumed Simpson was dead. But he wasn't (obviously, since he wrote a book about it all) -- he'd landed on a ledge. He managed to crawl off the mountain and across a glacier and rocky moraine to the campsite. It's not all grim: there's quite a bit of humour. The photography is stunning too, and the narration has the kind of matter-of-fact, undramatic feel that is so true of mountain-mad men. A colleague who's a climber came in to work with a gash on his face once, and it turned out he'd fallen 300ft while roped up. "I would have been fine, but my ice-axe bounced off into my face." We were all going, "three hundred feet!!!!", but to him it was nothing.
We've been pretty busy at work, one way or another. Tonight's drama was a computer glitch that had the whole IT department running around feverishly. Once it was sorted we caught up pretty quickly though, and still hit the deadline.
Did I mention my long service award? I'm getting £200 of vouchers and an extra day's holiday for hitting the ten-year mark as a permanent employee (on 3 January). No sign of the vouchers yet, though the boss's secretary offered to let me look at them. The boss is apparently writing me a letter. Jolly good. Must be a long one ....
I wrote to blogger about the intermittent problem getting this blog to show, and they said they're working on it. In the meantime, if you get a message about the page not being available, click on the refresh button on the browser and it should show all right.
I had a whole weekend off and managed to squander most of it faffing around with mp3s and reading books (I'm reading Forty Signs of Rain by Kim Stanley Robinson; Last Act In Palmyra, a Falco mystery, by Lindsey Davis; and The Tattooed Girl by Joyce Carol Oates). I did get in a few good walks, though, and Andrew swung by for lunch and to collect the furniture from Anthea's old flat: a double bed and a chest of drawers. He brought the main farm car, a big Astra, and it swallowed everything up no trouble. He's just e-mailed to say that his aunt had an awful accident the other day: one of her excitable dogs pulled her over while she was walking in the woods and she broke her ankle badly in two places. She managed to crawl home and from there phoned Andrew, who rushed over and rode shotgun in the ambulance, guiding the driver through the country roads. They've been minding the three dogs since then, though they're going into kennels shortly.
I also went to see a fantastic film, which I've been meaning to see for ages: Touching the Void. It's the true story of Simon Yates and Joe Simpson, who climbed a mountain in Peru. Simpson fell and broke his leg in a fairly gruesome way, so Yates one tried to get him down by lowering him on a rope, section by section. At one point, though, he went over the edge of a cliff, so he couldn't take the slack off the rope so his Yates could come down to lower him down the next bit. So Yates had to cut the rope, letting him fall into a crevasse. When he saw the crevasse he assumed Simpson was dead. But he wasn't (obviously, since he wrote a book about it all) -- he'd landed on a ledge. He managed to crawl off the mountain and across a glacier and rocky moraine to the campsite. It's not all grim: there's quite a bit of humour. The photography is stunning too, and the narration has the kind of matter-of-fact, undramatic feel that is so true of mountain-mad men. A colleague who's a climber came in to work with a gash on his face once, and it turned out he'd fallen 300ft while roped up. "I would have been fine, but my ice-axe bounced off into my face." We were all going, "three hundred feet!!!!", but to him it was nothing.
We've been pretty busy at work, one way or another. Tonight's drama was a computer glitch that had the whole IT department running around feverishly. Once it was sorted we caught up pretty quickly though, and still hit the deadline.
Did I mention my long service award? I'm getting £200 of vouchers and an extra day's holiday for hitting the ten-year mark as a permanent employee (on 3 January). No sign of the vouchers yet, though the boss's secretary offered to let me look at them. The boss is apparently writing me a letter. Jolly good. Must be a long one ....
18 January 2004
:: comments are back!
Hurrah! Quick ... say something.
Another site stepped in to help -- read about it here. All this is free, by the way -- though I will probably send them a donation.
Another site stepped in to help -- read about it here. All this is free, by the way -- though I will probably send them a donation.
16 January 2004
:: talking back
I just noticed the commenty thing wasn't working and did some poking around. I found this angry diatribe (Contains fruity language, by the way.)
Erm... so ... send me an email if you have something to say, I guess.
Erm... so ... send me an email if you have something to say, I guess.
:: bertie's new best friend
At last, some Christmas pix:
Wee Jenn is mad about dogs and was thrilled that Bertie liked her.
The two Jennies and Bertie.
Awwww!
Wee Jenn is mad about dogs and was thrilled that Bertie liked her.
The two Jennies and Bertie.
Awwww!
14 January 2004
:: time out
I hadn't realised I'd left it so long between entries. I've now almost completey recovered, phew. I've been surrounded by sick people for weeks, so it was only a matter of time before I caught something. I'm just relieved it was so minor. My knees are feeling a bit better too (now I've got the new hard plastic orthotics) so good news all round. Might get out into the hills at the weekend, I could do with a long walk, especially uphill.
I've been thinking a lot lately about people and their dogs -- I meet so many of them, and their relationships with each other (people to dogs, dogs to dogs, people to people) are fascinating. They vary as much as dog breeds, so much so it's impossible to stereotype them (though of course people do have reasons for choosing certain breeds). And when you get talking to other owners ... wow. Weird and wonderful. Dog owners can be intense about their pets. Uh, sorry, "companion animals".
My favourites are the relaxed types who let the dogs get on with their own socialising. I was lucky enough to meet a man just like this when I first got Bertie, and he taught me not to be anxious about Bertie's boisterous behaviour. Then there are the prim folk who think bum-sniffing is rude even when dogs do it and who think Bertie might eat their precious yorkie. Bertie can usually win them over with his big brown eyes and gentle manners, though.
The scary dog-owners are those who get scary dogs because they're scary. Pit-bull terriers, that kind of thing. After a few terrifying encounters, Bertie has learned it's not a good idea to go prancing up to these dogs pretending he's hard enough. He isn't. Sure, he can run faster than them, but they're smarter. There he was, running and running and running and yet this staffie still managed to catch him! How? He was running in a circle, and the staffie just cut him off at a leisurely jog. Pooooor Bertie, he's dumb as a sack of hammers.
I've been thinking a lot lately about people and their dogs -- I meet so many of them, and their relationships with each other (people to dogs, dogs to dogs, people to people) are fascinating. They vary as much as dog breeds, so much so it's impossible to stereotype them (though of course people do have reasons for choosing certain breeds). And when you get talking to other owners ... wow. Weird and wonderful. Dog owners can be intense about their pets. Uh, sorry, "companion animals".
My favourites are the relaxed types who let the dogs get on with their own socialising. I was lucky enough to meet a man just like this when I first got Bertie, and he taught me not to be anxious about Bertie's boisterous behaviour. Then there are the prim folk who think bum-sniffing is rude even when dogs do it and who think Bertie might eat their precious yorkie. Bertie can usually win them over with his big brown eyes and gentle manners, though.
The scary dog-owners are those who get scary dogs because they're scary. Pit-bull terriers, that kind of thing. After a few terrifying encounters, Bertie has learned it's not a good idea to go prancing up to these dogs pretending he's hard enough. He isn't. Sure, he can run faster than them, but they're smarter. There he was, running and running and running and yet this staffie still managed to catch him! How? He was running in a circle, and the staffie just cut him off at a leisurely jog. Pooooor Bertie, he's dumb as a sack of hammers.
:: on the mend
Did I mention I've been sick? I've been sick. Just a cold, nothing serious, and now I'm getting better. I took huge doses of vitamin C, then read on the label that I shouldn't exceed the stated dose. Oops. So I got on the net and after trawling through hundreds of "spam" sites, finally found a list of the symptoms of vitamin C overdose: diarrhea, abdominal cramps, high stomach acid, increased urination, insomnia, irritability, joint pains, osteoporosis, headaches, hypoglycemia, weakness, reduced oestrogen, PMS, may increase infections by causing copper deficiency. Hmmm. Don't think so ... There was also a Dutch piece about the bossy old EU saying it was "probably" bad for your body to take too much vitamin C.
But I think the best therapy has been getting plenty of sleep -- thanks to my wonderful new bed. It really is fantastic.
The weather yesterday was conducive to staying indoors but of course being a dog-owner I was out there slogging around in the wind and rain. Later it hailed heavily and it snowed overnight too. Ugh. Today was sunny though, so Bertie got a longer walk.
Oh, I forgot to say that 3 January was my 10th anniversary at work! Of working full-time that is -- I was a casual for three years before that. By a marvellous coincidence, the company has brought in a scheme to reward long service -- starting 1 January! I get an extra day's holiday and ?200 worth of vouchers to spend at the high street store of my choice. Whee! I'm going to get a Palm Tungsten PDA. Ten years. Blimey, that flew by.
But I think the best therapy has been getting plenty of sleep -- thanks to my wonderful new bed. It really is fantastic.
The weather yesterday was conducive to staying indoors but of course being a dog-owner I was out there slogging around in the wind and rain. Later it hailed heavily and it snowed overnight too. Ugh. Today was sunny though, so Bertie got a longer walk.
Oh, I forgot to say that 3 January was my 10th anniversary at work! Of working full-time that is -- I was a casual for three years before that. By a marvellous coincidence, the company has brought in a scheme to reward long service -- starting 1 January! I get an extra day's holiday and ?200 worth of vouchers to spend at the high street store of my choice. Whee! I'm going to get a Palm Tungsten PDA. Ten years. Blimey, that flew by.
6 January 2004
:: back up! back up!
Whoops, I didn't have such good backups as I'd thought -- a couple of the CDs I used can't be read. No disastrous losses: just a few dozen early digital-camera photos and some of the music CDs I coverted into MP3s. I also discovered I hadn't backed up a lot of older files, and had to hook up my antique SparQ drive for those.
However, now I'm all reinstalled and back on line and updated, phew.
I had a great weekend off -- lots of walking, a bit of shopping, a movie (Cold Mountain) and much, much time spent hunched over this computer. Back to work today.
However, now I'm all reinstalled and back on line and updated, phew.
I had a great weekend off -- lots of walking, a bit of shopping, a movie (Cold Mountain) and much, much time spent hunched over this computer. Back to work today.
2 January 2004
:: weekend off
Yes, so, back online ... I was in a bit of a rush by the time I finished setting the modem up and there is still some fine-tuning to do, but basically I got it going, that's the main thing. Phew. Now the big ghastly grind is downloading all the updates for Norton Anti-virus and Windows XP -- I had it set up for a "live update" so don't have backed-up files. Tsk.
I have three days off now, hurrah. Lunch with Andrew tomorrow (I think -- we've been communicating by text, which I'm rubbish at. Plus my phone battery keeps running down). I found my old answering machine the other week when I was looking for my Christmas decorations and thought I'd give it to him. But now I can't find either the answering machine or the decorations! Plenty of other junk though ... anyone need a scsi card?
Nice moment today walking Bertie: we met a girl he's previously barked at and he cosied up to her immediately. "He likes me, he likes me!" she said. Aaaahhhh, sweet!
I have three days off now, hurrah. Lunch with Andrew tomorrow (I think -- we've been communicating by text, which I'm rubbish at. Plus my phone battery keeps running down). I found my old answering machine the other week when I was looking for my Christmas decorations and thought I'd give it to him. But now I can't find either the answering machine or the decorations! Plenty of other junk though ... anyone need a scsi card?
Nice moment today walking Bertie: we met a girl he's previously barked at and he cosied up to her immediately. "He likes me, he likes me!" she said. Aaaahhhh, sweet!
:: back online
Phew. Took some doing, but I finally got my shonky modem to work. I found a nice boxed warning on page 15 of the user's manual: you're supposed to physically remove the modem before reinstalling XP. Gee, thanks Zoom! I didn't have to reinstall XP again, thank goodness. That would have made me crazy.
31 December 2003
:: happy new year
Not such a happy one for lots of people here: they've just called off the Hogmanay street party. It's 10:30pm, so there are tens of thousands of people jammed into Princes St, freezing but cheerful at the prospect of live music and a huge "seven hills" fireworks display. Now they're all shuffling off to find something fun to do. The culprit was the wind. Aberdeen's street party was cancelled too. Drummochter Pass and the Slocht are both closed by snow -- they're the highest points on the main road to Inverness.
I'm at work, get off at about midnight, depending on what happens new-wise. Bertie is sleeping over with friends -- latest report was that he and their dog, Oz the terrierist, are getting on famously, even eating out of each other's dishes! I'm going to meet up with Fiona -- the traffic should have cleared by then -- for a modest celebration and maybe a party or two, then home.
After a delicious lie-in, Bertie's minders are coming round with him and we're going to watch a work colleague dice with death in annual Loony Dook. Then off to Fiona's again, for brunch this time, and then to work. Which should be a doddle ... but you never can tell.
Happy New Year, everyone!
I'm at work, get off at about midnight, depending on what happens new-wise. Bertie is sleeping over with friends -- latest report was that he and their dog, Oz the terrierist, are getting on famously, even eating out of each other's dishes! I'm going to meet up with Fiona -- the traffic should have cleared by then -- for a modest celebration and maybe a party or two, then home.
After a delicious lie-in, Bertie's minders are coming round with him and we're going to watch a work colleague dice with death in annual Loony Dook. Then off to Fiona's again, for brunch this time, and then to work. Which should be a doddle ... but you never can tell.
Happy New Year, everyone!
29 December 2003
:: happy happy
My computer's mostly fixed but I cannot get the modem going -- which is annoying because I bought it because my old modem wouldn't work under Windows XP. Hah. So anyway, no snaps of my wunnerful Christmas yet, and very little blogging because I can only do it at work and I'm really really busy at work.
There was a Christmas miracle up north: Bertie made friends with a child, Andrew's niece Jenny, age nine. She loves dogs, so she was thrilled to be his first ever junior chum. He was so relaxed she could walk him on the lead, and chase him shrieking across a field.
Mostly it was a whirl of activity, a lot of which was kitchen-based. I didn't do any farm work at all, tsk. I'm getting old -- the silage pit has lost its charms (it does have some! it's warm on a frosty morning, for one thing). We saw The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and went to a brilliant panto, Jack and the Beanstalk. Jenny senior cooked up a storm despite having fallen and hurt her back at the weekend -- roast beef and Yorkshire pud on Christmas Eve, and turkey and all the trimmings plus pheasants for the Big Event. It was great seeing Ian and Yukari again too.
I called NZ on the 24th, talked to Liz, Leigh and Ken. Big merries to all those I missed!
Once my computer's back up I'll post some snaps.
There was a Christmas miracle up north: Bertie made friends with a child, Andrew's niece Jenny, age nine. She loves dogs, so she was thrilled to be his first ever junior chum. He was so relaxed she could walk him on the lead, and chase him shrieking across a field.
Mostly it was a whirl of activity, a lot of which was kitchen-based. I didn't do any farm work at all, tsk. I'm getting old -- the silage pit has lost its charms (it does have some! it's warm on a frosty morning, for one thing). We saw The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and went to a brilliant panto, Jack and the Beanstalk. Jenny senior cooked up a storm despite having fallen and hurt her back at the weekend -- roast beef and Yorkshire pud on Christmas Eve, and turkey and all the trimmings plus pheasants for the Big Event. It was great seeing Ian and Yukari again too.
I called NZ on the 24th, talked to Liz, Leigh and Ken. Big merries to all those I missed!
Once my computer's back up I'll post some snaps.
19 December 2003
:: I broke my computer!!
I did a stupid, stupid thing; then I did another stupid, stupid thing which compounded the earlier stupid thing. Finally, Windows XP did a stupid, stupid, stupid thing. The net result was that I spent most of today backing up my files (whew). I've done some research on the net and have a solution for the short term, but in the long run I really need to do a complete reformat and reinstall. Given the amount of damage already inflicted, I think that would be best.
The first indication that something had gone horribly wrong was pretty spectacular: the screen was filled with just one word, repeating endlessly:
Grub is a Linux boot manager. It wasn't working.
Ah well, I'll get there in the end. In the meantime, however, I am without an internet connection. GRUmBle GRUmBle GRUmBle. I won't even have this work connection, as -- hurrah! -- this is my last night before a whole week off.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Oh, speaking of Christmas, I heard a great one on the radio this afternoon: a woman who runs some kind of Christmas decoration business was wittering on about changing fashions in tree-dressing. Her favourite was a Byzantine theme she'd devised. "I wanted something colourful so I thought, where's a colourful place? And it came to me: the Middle East! Even though the Middle East has nothing to do with Christmas, quite the opposite in fact."
The first indication that something had gone horribly wrong was pretty spectacular: the screen was filled with just one word, repeating endlessly:
Grub is a Linux boot manager. It wasn't working.
Ah well, I'll get there in the end. In the meantime, however, I am without an internet connection. GRUmBle GRUmBle GRUmBle. I won't even have this work connection, as -- hurrah! -- this is my last night before a whole week off.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Oh, speaking of Christmas, I heard a great one on the radio this afternoon: a woman who runs some kind of Christmas decoration business was wittering on about changing fashions in tree-dressing. Her favourite was a Byzantine theme she'd devised. "I wanted something colourful so I thought, where's a colourful place? And it came to me: the Middle East! Even though the Middle East has nothing to do with Christmas, quite the opposite in fact."
15 December 2003
:: damn
The police raided Ingliston Market -- no Christmas presents this year, then! (Kidding.)
I find the whole thing astounding, I have to say. It's been going on for years, both at Ingliston and at the Barras in Glasgow. And it's so blatant! I remember once seeing a woman come up to a bloke selling dodgy software, effing and blinding at him that he'd shopped her to the police and she'd lost a load of equipment. But no-one needs to shop anyone, they're all doing it right out there in public! Well, not the copying part, the selling.
I'll draw a veil over my own purchases at Ingliston. I'll just say the software industry hasn't lost a penny; I can't afford their finest products.
I'm feeling v. smug at the moment, having finished almost all my Christmas shopping. And I've still got a week to go! I still have to ice the cake, finish off a handcrafted gift, wrap some presents and distribute local cards. I'm off tomorrow -- appointment with the podiatrist in the morning -- working Wed-Fri and then off until after Christmas! Whoopee!
Mother and John, thank you very much for the tea towels. Gaudy is good! In fact I'm thinking of putting the very bright one up on the wall. Uncle Jock sent a calendar with a great pic on it of you and the Dick whanau, Mum. I think I'll frame that one at the end of next year.
I find the whole thing astounding, I have to say. It's been going on for years, both at Ingliston and at the Barras in Glasgow. And it's so blatant! I remember once seeing a woman come up to a bloke selling dodgy software, effing and blinding at him that he'd shopped her to the police and she'd lost a load of equipment. But no-one needs to shop anyone, they're all doing it right out there in public! Well, not the copying part, the selling.
I'll draw a veil over my own purchases at Ingliston. I'll just say the software industry hasn't lost a penny; I can't afford their finest products.
I'm feeling v. smug at the moment, having finished almost all my Christmas shopping. And I've still got a week to go! I still have to ice the cake, finish off a handcrafted gift, wrap some presents and distribute local cards. I'm off tomorrow -- appointment with the podiatrist in the morning -- working Wed-Fri and then off until after Christmas! Whoopee!
Mother and John, thank you very much for the tea towels. Gaudy is good! In fact I'm thinking of putting the very bright one up on the wall. Uncle Jock sent a calendar with a great pic on it of you and the Dick whanau, Mum. I think I'll frame that one at the end of next year.
10 December 2003
:: search
I'm completely addicted to this search thing: as I've said before, the statistics thingie I've got tells me the "referer" for my hits. And some of them are from internet searches.
Like "dog parka", for example. OK someone might be searching for that, but in Portugal? Why? Then there's "budgies sleep patterns", and "vegetarian perfume cruelty guerlain". Alarming that these people get my weblog up!
Oh, then there's "diy surgery dog spade" -- that really is disturbing, on both counts. In my defence, I was doing some diy, the dog had surgery, and then I bought a spade. They are not connected.
Here's one that was tooooo specific: "barevan christmas". It only gets one result. So: who was the mystery browser on Dec 05 2003 at 12:08:11 pm? Using a Tiscali connection? For 35 seconds? Ah yes, I have your IP address! I know your operating system -- Windows ME, the final clue.
Like "dog parka", for example. OK someone might be searching for that, but in Portugal? Why? Then there's "budgies sleep patterns", and "vegetarian perfume cruelty guerlain". Alarming that these people get my weblog up!
Oh, then there's "diy surgery dog spade" -- that really is disturbing, on both counts. In my defence, I was doing some diy, the dog had surgery, and then I bought a spade. They are not connected.
Here's one that was tooooo specific: "barevan christmas". It only gets one result. So: who was the mystery browser on Dec 05 2003 at 12:08:11 pm? Using a Tiscali connection? For 35 seconds? Ah yes, I have your IP address! I know your operating system -- Windows ME, the final clue.
9 December 2003
:: the hedge
After Saturday's Christmas experience I spent Sunday afternoon doing something much more satisfying: hacking back the rose hedge in the front garden. It's wildly overgrown and threaded through with honeysuckle -- sounds romantic, but it isn't. Rosemary next door got so sick of it snagging her guests she attacked it with the shears in midsummer -- not the best time of year to prune, but she was desperate. So I promised to give it a good trim this winter, and now it's a row of stumps. Once I've disposed of the mountain of clippings I'll feed the stumps and put some new compost around them. Just to show there's no hard feelings, you know. The roses should shoot back up, but if they don't they don't -- no biggie.
When I told Rosemary I might plant replacements if they do die, she hurriedly said she doesn't care if there isn't a hedge there. She says Mrs Blacker, the former owner, planted it because the paper boy and the postie used to cut across the lawn in front of the dining room while she was having breakfast, and she got sick of both the intrusion and the muddy trail they wore in the lawn. But as with everything else she didn't spend any time on upkeep and it grew leggy and mildewed and full of dead wood. In the spring I'm also going to reseed the front lawn -- now it will get a bit more light it might do better.
Yes, so that was Sunday -- I was out there until dusk, my feet freezing in my wellies, chopping away at 6ft high rose bushes. Overnight there was a harsh frost, with a fog to boot. On the way back from the morning walk I saw another neighbour trying to start his car. Rrr rrr rrr, rrr rr rrrrr. "Good luck!" I said cheerily. Ten minutes later I was sitting in my own car. Rrr [silence]. Rrr. Eh? I phoned Green Flag and just had time to wash the dishes before the mechanic was there with his jumper leads. Brrrmm! Apparently it was the cold. All I need to do is pour a kettle of boiling water on the battery. I have never heard of this, but that's what he said. I haven't had any problems in previous winters -- maybe I need a new battery.
So then I got my parcels posted and the cards and fuelled the car and and supermarketed and walked the dog again and made a curry and conked out on the sofa in front of the telly. Very enjoyable time off.
When I told Rosemary I might plant replacements if they do die, she hurriedly said she doesn't care if there isn't a hedge there. She says Mrs Blacker, the former owner, planted it because the paper boy and the postie used to cut across the lawn in front of the dining room while she was having breakfast, and she got sick of both the intrusion and the muddy trail they wore in the lawn. But as with everything else she didn't spend any time on upkeep and it grew leggy and mildewed and full of dead wood. In the spring I'm also going to reseed the front lawn -- now it will get a bit more light it might do better.
Yes, so that was Sunday -- I was out there until dusk, my feet freezing in my wellies, chopping away at 6ft high rose bushes. Overnight there was a harsh frost, with a fog to boot. On the way back from the morning walk I saw another neighbour trying to start his car. Rrr rrr rrr, rrr rr rrrrr. "Good luck!" I said cheerily. Ten minutes later I was sitting in my own car. Rrr [silence]. Rrr. Eh? I phoned Green Flag and just had time to wash the dishes before the mechanic was there with his jumper leads. Brrrmm! Apparently it was the cold. All I need to do is pour a kettle of boiling water on the battery. I have never heard of this, but that's what he said. I haven't had any problems in previous winters -- maybe I need a new battery.
So then I got my parcels posted and the cards and fuelled the car and and supermarketed and walked the dog again and made a curry and conked out on the sofa in front of the telly. Very enjoyable time off.
7 December 2003
:: some pix
I did the Christmas shopping thing today -- went in on the bus and spent half the day trekking around various shops. You lucky people! My favourite purchases turned out to be decorations for the cake. I found cute robins, the kind with real feathers, for just 90p each! Bargain. I tried to have a look at the Christmas market, but it was too packed.
Here are some other photos from the past month:
Blackness Castle with 1,000 acres of sky.
Couple of autumnal shots from Blackford Hill.
Here's a picture taken the day Bertie was bashed up by the marina cat. His wounds have healed up ok.
Here are some other photos from the past month:
Blackness Castle with 1,000 acres of sky.
Couple of autumnal shots from Blackford Hill.
Here's a picture taken the day Bertie was bashed up by the marina cat. His wounds have healed up ok.
2 December 2003
:: changing faces
Another day, another new look: I didn't really like the last one, and as I said I changed it by accident. So here's another one: Bluebird. Nice and simple.
Today's Scottish word is dreich, adjective, dreary.
As in, "The weather's awfie dreich the day, hen." Damp, dull, with the kind of rain that is too light for the intermittent setting on the windscreen wipers but still manages to soak you through on a short walk.
See: smirr, smur noun
1 drizzly rain
verb (smirs, smirrs, smirring, smirred)
[intransitive]
2 to drizzle lightly
Well, we've had a good innings this year, weatherwise. I'm only grumbling because today was the day I was meant to heave my old mattress and bedframe out on to the pavement, and I forgot. And now I'm going to have to do it when I get home. At 1am. In the smirr.
Today was also the day I chose to lock myself out of the house again. Happily I hadn't mucked up my Cunning Plan and managed to get in ok, albeit with a wet bum and a very confused dog.
Speaking of Bertie, his leg had miraculously healed by the time I got home from work on Friday night. Which is just as well, because I overslept and missed his appointment with the vet on Saturday morning.
Today's Scottish word is dreich, adjective, dreary.
As in, "The weather's awfie dreich the day, hen." Damp, dull, with the kind of rain that is too light for the intermittent setting on the windscreen wipers but still manages to soak you through on a short walk.
See: smirr, smur noun
1 drizzly rain
verb (smirs, smirrs, smirring, smirred)
[intransitive]
2 to drizzle lightly
Well, we've had a good innings this year, weatherwise. I'm only grumbling because today was the day I was meant to heave my old mattress and bedframe out on to the pavement, and I forgot. And now I'm going to have to do it when I get home. At 1am. In the smirr.
Today was also the day I chose to lock myself out of the house again. Happily I hadn't mucked up my Cunning Plan and managed to get in ok, albeit with a wet bum and a very confused dog.
Speaking of Bertie, his leg had miraculously healed by the time I got home from work on Friday night. Which is just as well, because I overslept and missed his appointment with the vet on Saturday morning.
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