Comment failure

I have decided an explanation is in order here and in some instances an apology no doubt! About what do I refer?........comments.

For any one of you loyal people who post much appreciated comments here and don't get a reply I sincerely apologise........I really do try to post a reply to each and every one but I fear that here and there I may have missed some. It is not intentional I assure you I just seem to lose track now and again!

I see a way here for someone brighter than yours truly to make a killing. Has no one written code for something that will keep a track of all ones comments and of the comments we leave on the blogs of others? If they have I sure can't find one but I could use it! Heaven knows how I would cope if I was the author of one of the many successful blogs that receive 100's of comments!!

My second apology is to anyone who receives a comment from me that is drivel.......my excuse? I generally 'blogsurf' late at night, feel driven to comment on interesting posts and then find myself barely able to string a sentence together for lack of sleep. So again, if you find a barely intelligible comment from me..........I apologise in advance. :o)

....give me strength!!

The idiosyncrasies of blogger and the various other bits and pieces of HTML that I use here confound me at times.

I arrived home from work last night wanting only to eat and sleep, to discover to my chagrin that my blog had mysteriously rearranged itself, not for the better I might add! Those invisible gremlins had been at work again and for no apparent reason.

Two items in my sidebar had moved to 'align left' instead of 'align centre'two didn't operate at all and consequently prevented the remainder of the page loading and my 'delete comments' option had 'done the off' altogether. Add to that some comments where repeated more than once and I just know it is not the error of the poster.

So miffed and tired I set about sorting it all out. The two misaligned items where fast realigned, tho strangely the HTML was still as it should be, nothing had changed it just didn't seem to be doing the job any longer, the two inoperable items I deleted having discovered that the host is suffering some gremlin of its own and the comment delete option remains defunct. A rapidly typed communication to Blogger help still awaits reply on that one!!

I have been considering 'moving' for a while and all this only serves to tempt me to consider further if I should relocate to 'movabletype' or some such, or at least run this from my own domain ( I would into the bargain lose the damn advertising that way). Two problems immediately strike me there, one I'm not entirely sure if my technical ability is up to movabletype yet and two, my domain host seems to have rather more 'downtime' than I would like. Arghhhhhh!

This morning among all this and having noted from one or two readers that the blogger comment system has various failings, I decided to change to Haloscan. Again I encountered more aggravation. As I expected, unless I run both comment systems I effectively lose all my previous comments (and I don't want to) and having duly inserted the code , you've guessed it.........Halsocan wasn't working!! I have visited many sites using haloscan and I have to admit on a number of occasions it wouldn't allow me to comment so I don't know why I was surprised!! Suffice to say for now I have removed it again.

I do this for fun????..........give me strength!

Blood, rain and work.

PG had barely walked through the door last night, 'post golf' before he managed to cut his finger quite significantly, attempting to open a packet of something frozen. One moment I was peacefully watching TV and the next was assailed by a high volume string of expletives issuing from the kitchen. Let me tell you here I do not 'do' blood' ! In this case I had no choice. There was some discussion as to whether the injury required stitching but given that the digit in question still operates fine and he has no care if his finger retains a scar it was decided by himself that it did not, makeshift steri-strips and a dressing where duly applied and that was the end of it as far as he is concerned..... I wonder how much of that decision was based on the 80 mile round trip to A&E??. Arghhhh, This guy works with the severely disabled, one of which has MRSA and I would be happier had he seen a professional but he knows what he's doing (apparently) so I bow to his judgment! Hmmmmm.

So role of Florence Nightingale over It's back to work for me today and I can barely imagine how I will wind myself up again to take on the inevitable onslaught!

For those reading this who haven't seen what's gone before, I only work two or three days a week and the less I do the harder it seems to become to get back into 'the groove'. My life is two extremes, at home most of the week I have this wonderful laid back lifestyle where I barely need to know what day it is and on the weekend I have to fire on all cylinders for 9 hours at a time.

The summer it appears was brief, the temperature dropped significantly overnight and it rained yet again ( well this is Scotland!) tho 'oregon Scientific' promises better to come! I would not be without this little gadget, I have used it for years and it really works. On the up side, with the arrival of the rain came the departure of the flies.

Suffice to say don't expect too much here until Monday! I really don't know how those bloggers among us who work full time manage to fit this in.....well, with the exception of those lucky souls who can blog from work!

Bugs, bugs and more bugs

My 'back garden'

So summer it seems has finally dragged it's self kicking and screaming north of the border. I hasten to add this is not the summer that memories are made of and we still of course have a 'stiff breeze' but the sun has shone all day and we attained a maximum of 21 degrees earlier this afternoon. That may not seem so impressive to some of you but believe me it is not to be sniffed at in these parts!

Of course every silver lining has it's cloud and along with the sun have arrived the bugs. Scotland is infamous for its flies apparently and my bit of Scotland seems to be no different. The sun would be a treat if I could actually venture out in it without becoming covered in thousands of the minute black creatures. They tickle like hell, crawl in your ears, eyes, mouth and up your nose! Damnable things. By later tonight these things will have mustered their troops to such as degree that it will be impossible to keep a window open. They are in such numbers that they require vacuuming off the windowsills at least 3 times a day and will, by late night, have congregated in such numbers on the windows that on a bad night it will be barely possible, quite literally, to see outside!

So I will go now and enjoy my summers evening, shut inside with Big Brother.......
itch, scratch, itch!

Computer cat

Ditto, who unlike Poppy has not yet had many 'holidays,' returned last week from the cattery somewhat insecure. Not for her the salubrious surroundings and oft bestowed attentions of her hotelier, she cares not that we travel many miles to allow her to have her every whim catered for and pay through the nose for the privilege.......she just wants to be home in her familiar surroundings and with her quarry to attend to!

On this occasion we arranged a 'twin' room for her, in the hope that the familiar company of the more laid back Poppy would help. Apparently it did not, she seemed to dislike the whole carry on with the same vengeance as ever, went again on self imposed hunger strike and into the bargain ran Poppy ragged!

On her return home she was not easily convinced that she would not be 'abandoned' again and chose to stay at close proximity to the flat for the first day or two. She did though venture, on one occasion, enough distance to 'obtain' two mice to be subsequently bestowed upon us in proof of her pleasure at being home.

Her behavior is still unusually affectionate, this cat is not one to normally wear her heart on her cat sleeve but for now she sleeps adhered to my feet, scent marks my legs at every opportunity and has decided that she will only allow me minimal space on my computer chair while she languishes on the remainder!


I'm comfortable!

I've got mail!

Gmail

Well to be more precise I've got 'Gmail'!

The very kind chap from 'More a way of life' offered me an invition yesterday, gratis to boot, and so never one to miss an opportunity I graciously accepted. I'm not sure I actually want this service but you know how it is, there has been so much hoo ha about it and others seem to be falling over themselves to acquire an account I just had to take up the offer and find out for myself!! Like I need yet another email account! Hmmm.

So that I did and thus far I'm not entirely sure what I should be so impressed with, Yes it has 1000mb of storage, but outlook is unlimited. It looks a remarkably similar format to Yahoo mail, but to be fair I think Yahoo changed there's in a response to the launch of Gmail and it has all the much discussed privacy issues, tho I doubt I will ever send a mail of significance where that's concerned!

The one thing I attempted to do with it was to 'import contacts'.I duly created my c.s.v file as instructed and full of excitement attempted to import it..........the necessary window just wouldn't open, a complete non starter! Hey ho, it is a beta version after all so I'll give it a chance on that one.

On the up side I love the way it opens each mail in a format similar to an I.M. window, a very helpful inclusion for someone such as myself who frequently runs 'email conversations' and then forgets what was said previously!!

So I'll keep an open mind and for now persevere, tho I have no intention of abandoning outlook at this stage in the game!!

My blog doesn't own me!

37.5 %

My weblog owns 37.5 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?

I just knew.....

....you couldn't resist! :o)


Typogenerated again!

An unexpected reminder

Diana.

It's strange the things that trigger memories. I had no intention of posting on this subject until I saw a photograph on beFrank this morning and was unexpectedly reminded of one of the few times I was witness to such scenes, albeit on a much larger scale in this instance. The occasion was a sad one, the death of the Princess of Wales.

I'm not going to discuss here the conspiracy theories, the causes, the paparazzi or the Royal Family,I will leave that to those more qualified, this is merely my experience. With the benefit of hindsight I'm not sure I would have joined the furor that surrounded her untimely death and I'm not entirely sure what prompted such a massive display of public sadness, it now seems something akin to mass hysteria but at the time it felt truly genuine. I recall being very concerned that if I went to the funeral it should be for the right reasons and I did a considerable amount of heart searching before I made the decision to go.

Like many people I remember exactly what I was doing the moment I heard first of Diana's involvement in a traffic accident. I was at friends, it was late at night and we had turned on the TV for a weather report, we were planning a day out motorcycling and only wanted to know if we were likely to get caught in inclement weather! We caught the tail end of the BBC's bulletin reporting the accident and subsequently remained glued to the news all night in disbelief.

The following day there was a tangible sadness wherever we went, we continued with our day out but no one's heart was really in it. My ex had always been fond of Diana and wanted to go to Kensington Palace that evening. Again it seems slightly strange now but at the moment it happened it felt like a genuine need to pay our respects at the only place we could think of. This is the point that I was reminded of by the photograph on beFrank's blog. Kensington was a media frenzy, there were literally hundreds of media trucks lining every possible curbside. For a Jane Doe such as myself the sight of all this hardware with massive antenna extended and satellite dishes pointing to the heavens was staggering. We take media coverage for granted but despite my father spending his life working at the BBC I somehow had never considered exactly how we attain and broadcast all that coverage. If I'm entirely honest I could have watched this display of technical wizardry all night but felt guilty for even considering it at such a time.

We made our way in the dark across the park to the gates of the palace, at that point the gates already seemed laden with flowers, candles and messages of sympathy but it was nothing in comparison to what was to come. We stood in silence for a few minutes among the few hundred already there and then rode home through a strangely austere London.

Amid reports of central London being closed on the day of the funeral and public transport being questionable, we rode into town the night before, along with the couple we had been with on the night Diana died, parked the bike where we could and made our way to Whitehall where we spent the night. Many have said that the camaraderie on the streets that night was unbelievable and indeed it was like nothing I have experienced before or since. Many people had arrived with little or no preparation for a cold night on tarmac. We in our leathers were luckier than many but by the early hours cold and hunger had set in and we and those in our immediate vicinity, organized ourselves into a rota to walk the considerable distance to a 24 hour Mc Donalds in Leicester Square, returning laden with as much food and drink as we could carry on each journey, to share among us. Street vendors had not been allowed to propagate this sad event.

One of the most surreal moments in my life was being woken the following morning , cold and stiff on the pavement outside Downing Street, by the sound of Big Ben Chiming only a very short distance away!

The time before the funeral commenced was a time of odd and somehow very opposed happenings. Among the thousands of people congregated in sombre contemplation was all the frenzy of organizing such an unprecedented event. Media personnel and vehicles rushing to and fro, scaffold platforms being erected, the security services beetling about suited and booted wearing solemn expressions and the police doing their utmost to keep the ever growing crowds in some sort of order. I never saw reported if there had been instances of crime but I doubt there were many, the majority seemed only too happy to wait patiently and the job of the police 'on the ground' seemed for the most part to be maintaining our safety.

So the procession began and we, a distance away, were only aware because an unbroken grapevine, the length of the route gradually fed its whispered information down to us, aided I think by police radio.

As the coffin in all its regalia approached us with the family walking slowly behind, heads bowed stoically, the atmosphere was something I doubt I will encounter again and I will be amazed for as long as I live by the young Prince's courage in maintaining their composure. Yes they have 'the training' and the background but none the less these were two young boys who had just lost their mother in horrific circumstances and were having to grieve under the glare of a very harsh spotlight.

The funeral service was relayed to the thousands on the streets via a massive speaker system and we all listened in silence. Two moments stood out starkly. Earl Spencer delivered his carefully chosen words, as he finished a round of applause erupted spontaneously outside the Abbey and as people further and further away joined in, the sound of clapping rushed up Whitehall like a tidal wave, at first faint and then gradually more deafening. Shortly afterwards Elton John performed his tribute 'Goodbye England's Rose' and I doubt London will ever be as silent again. Thousand upon thousand of individuals stood in absolute silence broken only by the sound of those overwhelmed sobbing quietly. Directly infront of me was a young police officer who, as his duty dictated, had stood straight and still with his back to the proceedings facing the crowd for hours, he now stood in the very same position with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Immediately after the funeral we were prevented from leaving the centre of London for perhaps 2 hours while all those involved tried to make their way out. Gradually as the crowds began to filter away, we made our way in relative quiet to the bike and set off for home. What occurred next was for me probably more surreal than anything else. We had genuinely not considered that it could happen, we had not thought beyond the end of the funeral and having been kept in the city for so long did not anticipate it. We lived maybe 25 miles north of London and set off to the M1. Bikes of course don't get stuck in traffic and within a few miles of hitting the motorway we could see ahead of us maybe 300 motorcycles. Slightly confused we carried on. Had I had the wit or the forethought I should have realised we should not have taken that route. The bikes we saw in the distance, when we caught up with them, where behind a line of police vehicles, perhaps a hundred yards behind the cortege escorting the coffin on its final journey. I just hadn't thought about the route it would take to Northampton or the slow speed at which it would travel and felt terrible to be stuck in a situation that felt like 'rubber necking' despite it being in all innocence.

As we moved slowly up the motorway every bridge and slip road was dececked with flowers and held people throwing bouquets among the cortege. I had great admiration for the police outriders who had to maintain control of their vehicles at slow speed and under a rain of well meant missiles....they had many more miles to cover. One of my enduring memories though of such a strange and sad day, will remain the sight of hundreds of motorcyclists attempting to keep their machines upright, on a bed of extremely slippery flowers with unchecked tears coursing down their faces.

Tuesday amusement

Typogenerated

A nifty little toy for Tuesday amusement. I like this one :o)

'Thieved' with thanks from 3rd Daughter

I just know you're gonna go there Retroguy!

Domestic annoyances

Little improvement since!

We live in an age of technology, or so we are led to believe, where exploration into the outer reaches of the universe is almost customary, we communicate at the speed of light via many and various gadgets, what used to be major surgery is now relegated to a day procedure and 'in home' entertainment now exceeds anything our forefathers could ever have imagined.

Why then I wonder, do the basic and long accepted as necessary,domestic appliances residing with apparent innocence in my kitchen suffer from something bordering on bi-polar disorder? Each one seemingly has it's own peculiarities and foibles, I have a washing machine (barely a year old) that has to have it's door prodded in a very specific manner to encourage it to spring into action (something the manufacturer considers 'normal' incidentally......what I wonder is the definition of 'normal' in this case?). I have a fridge freezer that hums something less soothing than 'Pie Jesu' at night unless I change the temperature setting and the piece de resistance, that has prompted this outpouring of annoyance, a vacuum cleaner that despite much investigation won't perform a task as inherently important as create a vacuum and suck!

This wonder of domestic engineering is a Dyson look-alike, a handsome and very efficient looking bit of kit and to give it it's due it was,for maybe 3 months impressively efficient, at which point, despite constant emptying, cleaning of filters and battles with the belt drive it's suck degenerated to something closer to a blow. No lurid jokes here please this is serious stuff!

So yesterday I had reached the end of my well tested patience with this apparently Heath Robinson contraption and as is my way (I'm too impatient to take it back and go through the inevitable returns battle with DRG) took it out into my field and began dismantling it in an endeavor to discover why it just won't damn well do the job. And discover I did. Please bear in mind here I am not an engineer and I don't have to hand the correct terminology.

In the top of the main housing I found a filter, this has a helpful little device attached called rather uninspiringly a 'filter wipe', a trigger like affair that when rotated should clean said filter.........it patently doesn't! This filter, a contraption with fins similar to a fan, was completely blocked with now solidified dust and debris. Having, on further investigation, discovered that the offending part refused to be removed I mustered the appropriate female tools,a nail file and crochet hook (I 'do' tools, but nothing traditional seemed suitable) and set about cleaning activities. This thing has, it would seem, a massive capacity for storage, two hours later, hot, somewhat miffed and looking like I had been dusted unsubtly with grey icing sugar the task was complete, the object of my annoyance reassembled and the moment of truth upon me.

Plugged in and ready to go the excitement was almost palpable if a little underwhelming........

My battle was won...........my handsome but formerly useless domestic delight could suck a golf ball though a hose pipe!!!!

All this begs the question........who on earth conjured up an appliance with such an inherently basic design fault?? I could go there but I won't....for now!

Looking through a lens

So before I stop harping on about my holiday I thought I would bore you with a few photographs!

In the past I have been 'into' photography... dark room, bag full of expensive gear blah,blah,blah but the fact that I seemed to spend my life looking through a lens missing what was really going on began to bug me and so I abandoned all that in favour of the standard digi-cam. I was crap anyway, anyone can be taught the technicalities but not everyone has a 'good eye'.... I fall into that category!!

So here they are, just snaps but snaps that remind me of a good time and 'my London'
(Click to enlarge)


'Eros'


From Trafalgar Square


Leicester Square


Cops (sorry 'anon' I just couldn't resist! :o)


Gallery


Men in uniform!

Yet more 'five questions'

Another brave volunteer for the five questions game has now posted his responses, read here

Cheers Leif.

If anyone else fancies playing just leave a comment or mail me :o)

Culture and coffee.

Sara Shamma. Title: Self-portrait
oil on canvas © The Artist

Since the age of 20, with the exception of approximately 5 years, I have lived at least 200 miles from my family. As a consequence the 'holidays home' have been a regular and much looked forward to event and over the years have somehow evolved naturally and now tend to follow a similar pattern on each occasion.

The itinerary tends to include a couple of days just chilling, chatting and indulging in retail therapy, an evening or two with friends or my brother and his family,dinner out here and there and at least one day in the centre of London doing the tourist thing and/or trying to take in a little culture at galleries and museums etc.

This holiday followed the now tried and tested format but also included an unexpected visit from a far flung family friend who none of us had seen for at least 25 years. Hell....... the aforementioned friend was accompanied by her son, a man of now 37 who I last saw at about age 3 and who's older brother was my first crush and my first kiss........ how old did I feel?!!

That over with.... don't get me wrong the reminiscing was fun if a little lost on PG...... we made our way into town on Thursday on what must have been the hottest day so far this summer (not good squashed on the tube believe me) to visit the National Portrait Gallery. Art is a small passion of mine and although I don't profess to understand most of it I could spend my life in galleries gazing in wonder at the ability of others and tying my head in knots in an attempt to understand what the artist is trying to say.

On this visit the BP Portrait Award 2004 and the much commented on Sam Taylor-Wood installation 'David' were the notable exhibitions. I had expected to view Ms. Taylor-Wood's work, an hour and seven minutes of video showing David Beckham sleeping, with a degree of boredom and skepticism but in the event it was strangely serene and against my better judgment I found it quite riveting! I have to make a banal comment at this point and admit that DB, when stripped of all the hype is a stunning looking man, something else I had not expected.

The BP Portraits were all incredible,if not my taste. I won't do them the injustice of making any comment, my personal favorite was the self portrait (shown above) by Sara Shamma (how can one woman be so beautiful and talented?!) that attained 4th place, just goes to show how little I know!

The remainder of the day was taken up wandering around Trafalgar Square in the heat, watching the Changing of the Guard, which we came upon by default at the appropriate time and sitting outside 'Starbucks' Leicester Square ( this particular Starbucks has a history for me but I won't go there now) simultaneously eating ice cream and drinking coffee!