Mostly lemon based

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  • Memories and Thinks

    I was about to post about my plan, which I shall do in a minute, but I was distracted by reading emilydm’s post about going skating. Years ago, years and years ago, when I was but tinysmall, and my friends were similarly sized, my dad used to take us to a skating rink in London. I’ve no idea where, which has always saddened me slightly, because I’d love to go back.

    But it’s almost certainly been modernised.

    I remember it being “world of the 70’s”, the clearly British but American-‘themed’* diner attached at one end of the rink, tinny music playing, some kind of stage-esque curtained thing at the other end of the ring (what in god’s name was that for? So they could put on stage shows while-you-skate? I can see why that might not have succeeded), Black and very worn rubber matting and the battered looking rink boundry with it’s chipped and broken paint.

    It was enormous fun, circling the rink, in the 70s atmosphere (despite it being the mid 80s), the slightly run-down charm bringing back even earlier youthful fun in Hemel’s AMC Bowling Alley (which was demolished when I was pretty small and was a similarly 70s building – but that actually only just made it into the 80s).

    The nice thing about these memories is the warm fuzzy family feeling. Remembering my dad taking me out onto the ice holding my hand, getting me started and then me flying off Hockey-Skater style, while my sister with her Ballet-learned grace would float round the rink.

    It’s one of those…slightly melancholy nostalgias, perhaps it’s better that I can’t go back, it’s probably been either closed or drastically modernised; as is the wont of these places.

    There is one place from my childhood I’d love to go to – the REX 1&2 – now known as The REX Cinema – this place has survived the ravages of time – in my youth it was a ratty but glorious piece of Deco artwork. I saw few films there – being as my dad was generally of the opinion that it was cheaper to wait and watch it on TV – something I sadly do out of financial distress rather than desire. I cherished that place, but never imagined that it would be saved – the Sad REX 1&2 sign lingered in my head. But now saved and restored, it’s a place I quite definately want to go and visit.

    Anyhow, enough of that. Plans. Or specifically, the Laptop plan.

    I had this idea – see, I want a new laptop. The Dell CPi that Lauren gave me has been soldiering on pretty well, really, given that it’s 8 years old, has a processor it doesn’t support in it, and is held together with a plate of steel, extra machine screws through the lid casing, copper mains-wire glued in with epoxy resin to support the cracked and damaged case and has a 4 key which is pops up because it’s lost part of it’s clipping mechanism. Oh, and it’s killed the 2nd new battery I gave it and about it’s 5th battery overall in that time.

    Oh yes, and the screen connector is held in with cardboard because the bit of metal that ‘holds’ it in is bent, and too weak for the job.

    So all in all, the fact it works at all is pretty impressive.

    I do have other laptops. Kathryn gave me her old Clamshell ibook – which I was planning to fix and use, then I discovered that you can’t get a faster processor for it, or faster memory, and it’ll probably be slower than my 450Mhz Dell. It would, however, run OSx, which I kinda want. But it does need stripping down because the power connector is borked. And it only runs at 800×600, which is kinda painful these days.

    The other laptop, the Powerbook G3 is even slower (233Mhz) – I did get a 300Mhz upgrade for it, but it doesn’t work with the Powerbook for reasons which the company (who instantly refunded my money on being told it didn’t work) informed me are obscure and strange, but there are, apparently laptops Apple made which are ‘finicky’.

    The HP Laptop was sent off via freecycle to aid a kiddie in her schoolwork.

    So 3 laptops, all of which aren’t entirely well.

    So hence; the idea: Sell the whole damn lot of them.

    More specifically, fix them all as well as they can be fixed. Flog the G3 with the Clamshell’s hard disk (because the Clamshell’s hard disk, is, iirc, bigger than the G3’s). Flog the Clamshell with the Dell’s hard disk having fixed it’s power connector. See if the G3’s memory upgrade that I bought before discovering that the processor upgrade didn’t work will, uh, work, in the Clamshell. Put the HDD I bought for the G3 into the Dell and flog it.

    Unfortunately, I suspect that this won’t net me the amount I want. The G3 Clamshell appears to be the most valuable; the G3 Powerbook running in second. Looking at the value of Dell CPi’s? Distressing. Though there weren’t many working ones on e-bay. I was vaguely looking in the sense of ‘maybe it’d be worth loads more in a new case with a new battery’ but no. The poor bloody thing is valueless either way.

    Ah well.

    I’m aiming for around 300 quid – the cost of an MSI Wind. Why an MSI Wind and not a Apple of shinyness? Well, I’d love a real true honest to goodness apple. But what do I actually *use* my laptop for? Well: Browsing the web, doing my e-mail, doing paperwork, and that’s about it. I watch videos on it when I go on holiday… but, well, that’s really it. So why get a full-size laptop? Why not get something (a) dinky and (b) new – for once. Laptops are not the most long lived items. The Dell keeps it’s long lifespan mostly by being, well, treated quite gently. I don’t open and close the screen much (it lives open), and despite the fact it’s falling apart at the edges… it’s stood up pretty well to the abuse. Anyway, I never really answered the reason why I want an MSI Wind. The reason is, alledgedly it runs OSX really rather well. Apple don’t do a subnotebook (and I’d probably still not be able to afford it if they did) – but I would rather like one, so the MSI wind is currently my plan of action. I wonder if it’ll work.

    So getting laptops second hand never seems like the greatest of the great idea. Although if I do carry out my plan and end up laptopless then I may have to consider it.

    *If I’m being *really* generous I’ll use the word themed, styled would be going way too far.

  • Being good

    So today I feel more or less back to normal. My throat hurts, but the rest of me is pretty much up and about and hunky dory. Not quite so far as Tickedy Boo, oh no, but adequate for most purposes. If I needed to, I’d’ve gone to work today. I won’t, sadly, be going to Sam’s leaving do – Sam being an ambulance person who’s leaving do is, annoyingly, tonight. I just don’t want to make myself sick for tomorrow – what with our mini thanksgiving (I’ve actually realised we could probably have invited a couple more friends, but in all honesty, +3 is about the maximum that can reasonably sleep here at night)

    At any rate, for the impending arrival of ‘the guests’ it is necessary for us to have a bit of a clean and tidy. The kitchen floor and the bathroom floor need sweeping (and the bathroom floor could benefit from a wash). The sinks ‘n stuff could do with cleaning and the lounge needs a pick-up; dust; sweep and hoover. Oh and the stairs – where the grand accumulation of crap seems to occur could do with sweeping. Oh, and the office could do with a once over too.

    That makes it sound like the house is s a tip. It’s not, it’s just a little untidy around the edges.

    This would all be fine if I were well; but I don’t want to overdo it, nor, equally, do I want to leave it all until Kathryn comes home. So, plan of action is to do about 30 mintues of cleaning to 30 minutes of rest. We’ve done one run through, and produced a larder with no more recycling in it, and emptied all the bins (just in case Pepper (one of Nikki and Kate’s dogs) gets that old urge to rifle through the bins and scatter damp, shredded paper everywhere); I also got rid of another bag of our ‘generic landfill waste’ that we generated while decorating. It’s not suitable for use as hardcore, so rather than beat the poor cars with carrying it to the tip; the council can take it away – one small bag at a time ;)

    I’ve quickly stuck one load of washing through, and hung it up. There’s another load I’d like to get through and washed, and quite frankly, I’d liked to get the sheets on the bed through and dried too :)

    Next step is to tidy the kitchen, though, I think.

    Then the lounge.

    Then the office (which will take some time ‘cos there’s paperwork to sort)

    Then the bathroom…

    And if I get a chance, the bedroom could do with a once over with a broom and a wipe of the horizontal surfaces.

    When did I get to want to clean so much? I’ve always been at least vaguely tidy – that’s a complete lie. Since I left home, I’ve always been vaguely tidy. I think it’s wanting to have pride in our house :)

  • Damn DJing

    I never did it that much or for that long, but it’s embedded in my soul like some sort of splinter. One that won’t bloody come out.

    I’m lazing on the sofa with too much Bass being transmitted by the solid flooring, listening to what unintentionally became a playlist. Because I heard one song and though “y’know, this song would really benefit from having that song after it…” and this was repeated several times. I could happily have sat and made a playlist several hours long…like we did for our wedding :)

    Annoyingly I’m not well enough to leap around the lounge in my usual parody of dancing; perhaps I should poke my nose back in to SGN and see if they’re going to need a DJ. I did say I would :)

    I’m not sure I’m made for DJing a gay venue though. I’ve encountered essentially two types of gay venue. The cheese venue or the hard-core-dance venue. I play mostly (what I think of as) indie with leanings towards some cheese (and of course, Dracula’s Tango) – so I’m not sure I’d go down that well be that popular.

    That and I do tent do err on the side of the late 90’s / early 00’s. Still, it’s fun. If only it hadn’t burrowed deep into my brain such that it can pop out in at unexpected moments.

  • Blurgh

    Gargling with salt makes me retch; at least, it fairly frequently makes me retch. On the plus side; unlike the last few days I’m actually feeling moderately human like. I’m very tired from last-night’s hourly (or less) waking up cycle; but the rest of me is feeling more or less back the way it should. I even made it to the shops to get paracetamol and ‘brufen. Of course, while there and feeling astonishingly tired I ended up being the only witness to a (very minor) car accident (car vs car in car park) – and despite trying to escape my guilt got the better of me – and when the cab driver flagged me down and asked if I’d seen what happened (and I had) I admitted it, and in the end gave my name.

    My throat does still feel like I’ve been munching on sandpaper tho’, even despite all the gargling.

    On the plus side – I spent some time playing with Garageband. I’ve got a whole bunch of jobs that need doing; but playing with Garageband comes first ;)

    More accurately, I’m really tired and not feeling great and can’t get the energy summoned to deal with the mounds of paperwork which are accruing. I’ve spent the morning reading and the later morning and lunch time area creating bizzare tunes in Garageband and now, the afternoon’s contined with some Yes Minister and some Big Bang Theory.

    One thing which is disconcerting. The EntMac in the lounge has a 500Gig disk in it. 500 Gigs of storage. That should be quite a lot, I thought, when I bought it. It has 60 gig free. I know I’ve got 35 gig to put on it…

    This is ‘inconvenient’.

    I’m thinking I might have to burn some of the lesser watched shows onto DVDs to clear space on it. But it’s somewhat of a pig, the idea was that the 500 Gig drive’d do to store ‘most all the TV I (now we) wanted. At least ’til we were over in Canada. But it’s getting a little cramped on there. The other thing I ought to do is get rid of some of the stuff which I’ve got which I don’t actually like/watch. I’m saddened to find that as with Monty Python, the Kids In the Hall suffers from the ‘there are plenty of great sketches but they’re interspersed with a greater quantity of not very funny things than I remembered’. Season 5 appears better than Season 2 anyway :)

    So that’s my day so far :)

  • Sickness

    So, I had a busy week planned post nights. Paediatric Immediate Life Support, Manual Handling, and then a couple of days of Agency work before celebrating Thanksgiving this weekend.

    Unfortunately, on Sunday I didn’t feel very well – and by the time I got back after my nights… well, I felt like crap. I curled up on the sofa and slept – and I never do that after nights.

    And when I awoke I felt worse. I assumed it would be a run of the mill cold – I’d had a sore throat and it felt like it was developing into a common or garden cold, and the day before yesterday I thought I’d hit the home stretch. See, I have a normal-flow-of-symptoms for a cold. Day one – sore throat. Day two – Cold. Day three – Cold and a cough. Day four – Cough. Day five – more or less better. Unfortunately, yesterday, as my temperature spiked as high as 38.6 degrees C (101.5F) and was sitting above 37 Deg C it became apparent that home stretch wasn’t where I was at.

    Today I’m taking a more pro-active approach to tackling this cold – well, actually, it’s the sore throat that’s got me attacking it. I’ve been salt-water gargling every half hour – to hour. Last night I was fighting a fever which kept me awake most of the night – Kathryn very sweetly brought me a flannel and some cold water – which I slathered on my forehead. I kept limbs out from under the duvet. I didn’t cover my body with the duvet. I still couldn’t get cool.

    Finally, this morning I took a tepid shower, downed paracetamol and ‘brufen and I feel the best I’ve felt for days. Not well, but not so atrocious that the only thing I want to do is lie in a puddle being a swamp-being (emitting a foul smelling fug ;) ). I’m annoyed that I can’t make more money this week – which was my plan – because even if my assault on the throat-soreness works perfectly and I’m feeling absolutely 100% tomorrow I won’t feel it’s a good idea to subject my body to work.

    In other news, I’m not sure if I mentioned – but my Grandmother (on my dad’s side) died a couple of weeks ago. We weren’t close (quite the opposite) – I debated whether I should be at her funeral (simply to represent my dad) – eventually siding on ‘no, I’ll send a card’. And had been contemplating that I did need to get out and get a card sent to their address; only to find out that my Grandfather’s died now, too.

    It’s weird to know that you’re the last in a line. I don’t know if I’m actually the youngest; my dad never got on with his sister particularly well; and I’ve little recollection of meeting them (ISTR we met one Christmas many years ago). I’m the last Elliott. Well, now I’m a Walton-Elliott, but my point still stands…

    It’s odd, anyhow.

    I’m very disconnected from these people. Notionally they’re my relatives – they’re my grandparents – but I’ve not seen them for years, and I’ve little or no knowledge of them since what I learnt from them as a kid. And let’s just say I wasn’t that keen on what I knew.

    So it’s very odd for them to be gone. What isn’t good is that it appears my sister – who was closer to them – has taken it very badly, and is upsetting my mum :(

    Ach. Families, eh.

  • Check check checkedy check

    Tired: Check
    Awake too early: Check
    Failed to do any PILS: Check
    Picked up ChangeOfNameForDrivingLicenceFormSinceTheyDidn’tSendItToMe: Check
    Changed name at GP: Check
    Dropped off Prescription Repeat: Check
    Tired: Check. Oh, I did that one already.

    I’m currently attempting to suck down the entire internet, this is because I’ve discovered that Pushing Daisies made it to Season 2. Well, technically I think that’s actually the second half of Season 1. There I was bemoaning the absence of BSG from the TV and suddenly I find myself suffused in the joy of Pushing Daisies.

    It’s weird, for someone who really doesn’t watch very much TV I have the shows I like, and I do like to watch ’em.

    Anyhow. On the way back from my little trip out into the cold wet world, I poked my nose in to the abandoned garage down the road. That was a bit of an experience. Having discovered that the door is, in fact, not actually attached, merely propped and held by the padlock (the hinges have gone the way of, something, uh, dodo related); I felt that it didn’t really matter too much if I stuck my head round. So I did. And then my body, and following that, my legs. I’m not convinced it’s even useable. I had thought I could try and contact the owner of the property and rent/borrow the garage. But having looked inside, the roof is, as I vaguely recalled, held up by a scaffold prop. In fact, the roof in the little atrium bit I stuck my head into is not, in fact, held up by anything other than ‘being there’. The prop having long since failed to do anything useful, because the joist next to the prop’s fallen down (it’s held up by a ladder, leaning against the wall), and the next joist along is just hanging in mid air.

    The shelter provided by the front would be handy, but it really needs re-roofing; or at least, some new joists. And I doubt the current owner, with his plans to pull it down, would really give a fig about the fact that the roof’s about to cave in.

    It is still vaguely tempting to ask around to find out if anyone has the owner’s address, ‘cos if he’d let me use it for free, then it’d be quite handy – I could spend 20 quid on new joists and repair the bit of roof I need, caring little for the atrium, and work on the cars in there.

    Anyway, at the moment I feel like sleeping, so I might just do that, and wait for Kathryn to ring and say she’s nearing Slough so as I can go meet her, get photos, and we can send off the Visa application.

  • Ah, 1:30am, my old friend.

    It is, as I may have mentioned, 1:30am. It’s cold. It’s not really dreadfully cold, but it’s cold in that my body is tired and wants to be in bed, and my head is saying ‘no, you need to stay up longer’. I’ve entirely failed to even look at the PILS manual (it’s over there —>), and have also failed to do anything useful with my extra awake time.

    Those readers who’ve, uh, read this journal before will know that me being up at 1:30 on a Sunday symbolises something in particular, and no, it’s not that I’m at a particularly good club/party (even I would probably not post while at a party, or a club. I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t, but it’s pretty unlikely given that my laptop wouldn’t be able to join me). Yes, it’s that fun-old week of nights.

    Woot.

    Somehow, the prospect of swinging my body clock around 12 hours so I can see drunk people voming everywhere and strange people turning up at 2am to inform me that ‘their nose is a bit sore’ is feeling less than appealing. It doesn’t help that it’s cold. I never like being cold. The only good thing about working nights in winter is that when you get out into the cold morning air, start the car, and drive; you’re driving home to your duvet and comfy bed.

    That’s quite a nice feeling. The crisp early morning air ushering you into a nice, warm, restful sleep.

    The fact that you don’t see daylight for a week, and that I won’t get to spend more than a couple of brief hours with my love every day? That sucks. Royally.

    It does not, of course, change anything.

    Now; what this evening has allowed me to discover is that:
    1) They did cancel Men In Trees, the arseholes.
    2) BSG isn’t on ’til January (although there does appear to be an intriguing spin off series).
    3) Exes and Ohs made it to a second season; but it doesn’t air ’til January.
    4) Widescreen TVs are much cheaper than monitors; however, what we want is a widescreen monitor because then we could forgo the TV licence. I, film lover that I am, really don’t want to give up the Shiny Shiny 36″ Philips, because, frankly it’s a darn nice telly. Well, I’m quite happy to give it up. Just I want something pretty similar in the LCD stakes to replace it, and I don’t see that happening in our price range, which is distressing. So I really should get around to hooking up the TV, I s’pose. However, to do it neatly requires…lifting the floor boards :(
    5) Fresh mussels taste way better than the ones you get in a pack.
    6) My guilt levels rise quite a lot when dealing with ‘live’ mussels.

    However, the two last points to raise an interesting thing; we had fresh seafood stew for dinner, and it was – wait for it – Yummy. I am forever amazed at the complexity and detail of flavours from freshly cooked food. This stew was extraordinarily expensive compared to our average meal, but it was damn good.

    I think the thing is, people get used to the pre-processed crap that they sell in the stores; once you stop eating the pre-processed crap, and start eating real food again, when you do eat the pre-processed stuff it becomes immediately apparently that it really is worth cooking the stuff yourself. But then you get into the whole better quality ingredients yeild better quality results. I know that if we could afford better quality veg and fruit it would taste better; I know this because I’ve eaten food from my mum – and it adds a whole new set of subtle and complex flavours – but as it is we eat damn well considering our income is pretty miniscule. In fact, unless I win my money back from a certain car restorer who’ll remain nameless until I get my act together and accept going to court (which I will, it’s just being certain that I’m ready to present my case well) or win the lottery, then actually our income meets our outgoings but doesn’t pay off my pre-existing debts (that’s why I do three jobs).

    Incidentally PM Brown – your parties management of the economy may be saving you – but I’m unlikely ever to vote for a party that means that I have to work 3 jobs just to eat/pay bills/get to and from work.

    Anyway, I’ve hit the 2am target. My body is crying out for the bed upstairs, and my brain is weak and feeble and willing to give in. Today is another day, and I’ll be up later do wash uniforms and coax myself into working for the breaded peanuts that get sent to my account.

    Oooh, that reminds me; some arse got access to my paypal account and attempted to transfer 635 quid! Thankfully, and I say this quite definately with my hand on heart and praise-where-it’s-due-to-paypal, they stomped on it and I’ve been round changing passwords and stuff.

    I suspect it’s the computer at work that I used to buy something-or-other; but quite frankly it’s a bit of a shock.

    In other news, the pyoor.org website is renewed for another exciting year. Whilst the domain is handy, and I like (being the control freak that I am, over technology at least) having my own WordPress copy of the journal (mmm, my own database), I don’t really make much use of the rest of the webspace; although I have ideas… clever ones. Well, okay, other people had ideas. Well, I had an idea and I looked and someone else had done the clever programming bit and thus I can be the lazy arse mare :)

    And therefore, the pyoor.org domain now sports Flickr integration. Just check out https://pyoor.org/wordpress/photos for the win :)

  • Unfortunate timing

    So, I finally got Jejy up on ramps today; the weather – while not terribly pleasant- cleared for long enough for me to have a grovel on the cold, damp ground. I looked up through the little hole at the base of the clutch plate and gently rotated it – initially it rotated smoothly, but then I got the sensation of rubbing. And got sprinkled in dirt and dust – which looked very attractive on me.

    I suspect then that there’s something up with clutch shoes (it has shoes, not a plate, I think); and therefore it’s an engine-out job. This being the case I decided not to continue with the service (since I might as well do all the horrid things all in one go). I did however spray the other sill with waxoyl… or at least I started. Then I lost the little injection straw in the sill. So that’s slightly frustrating.

    It is an unfortunate and unexpected expense coming at the same time as the TV licence and the Visa application. On which front we finished the first run of filling it in; now we need some photos and one small question answered and then some sendings. Hopefully, after that, Kathryn’ll be able to stay in the UK for a couple of years; which should mean that we’re fine to bugger off to Canada.

    Still, the house is warm, the kitchen is lovely and we’ve got almost an entire sea-load of fish for dinner, so that’s all good.

    Distressingly I’m on nights next week. But hey, into each whatever, a bit of rain must fall.

  • That’s not fair…

    So, plan is to service the DAF today. Forecast: Sunny.

    Go outside to check the weather – it’s cold, but dry.
    Go inside to get jumper. Get jumper. Go outside. It’s raining.

    Pump up tyre on DAF hoping that it’ll pass – ideally quickly.

    It’s still raining.

    Damnit.

    I have, however, looked at the manual and it appears that to change the fan/alternator(generator) belt you have to remove the bonnet(uh, hood) and the front panel, and the bumper. The bonnet is, apparently, a two person job, so I need to ask Kathryn to come and lend a hand; other than that, plan (such as it is) is to pop the car up on ramps and see if I can locate the source of the unpleasant noises – and then to set rocker valve clearances, change the oil, and theoretically change the fan-belt and check alternator tension.

    Another distressing possibility revealed itself to me – perhaps the reason the alternator light comes on, and it’s not charging, is that the alternator’s dying. I’ve never had much luck with alternators, spawn of satan that they are, and the possibility that it may, in fact, be on route to the grave would not surprise me deeply, but it would be annoying. Anyway, it looks as if it’s stopped raining, and the ground’s now nice and damp, so I suppose I should go out there…

  • Post Failure

    I was going to write a quick post covering wonders of mortgages, and talking about such exciting things as putting the recycling out; but due to me having to spend 10 minutes working out that Bad Behaviour blocks my own IP address, thus preventing me from logging in to my own website, and then fixing said issue.

    Well, that post’s gone by the wayside. So I guess you’ll never know what exciting things I might have said. Incidentally, pyoor.org’s wordpress bit has a new journal appearance. It’s shiny.