2009 — 4 February: Wednesday

My next picture of Christa moves out of that "bijou" kitchen in Old Windsor and into the back garden. Here, in fact, is the whole of the sunlounge. On the right, the beginnings of those tomatoes, and over on the left the Bonsai that (sadly) we forgot and left behind in 1981 when we moved down here. I'm guessing this would have been in 1976 or (possibly) 1977. Pre-Peter, in any case:

Christa and her back garden, Old Windsor, 1976?

I'm hoping things thaw out a bit, as I'd feel safer driving over to Winchester for a meal and a movie... I very nearly went base over apex on some ice last night. I'm delighted to note, however, that that nice old Uncle ERNIE has just come through with the first free £50 note of the year. Every little helps!

Right. It's 00:32 and time to sort out the chaos down in the kitchen before I can turn in for the night with a clear conscience. G'night.

There seems...

... to be something very bright up there in the sky. Is it? Could it be? Need a cuppa to unglue the eyelids first. It's 09:09 already.

Turns out — following a pretty wide survey of the online world's dismal news and events, not to mention the dreary dirge on BBC Radio 3 — that that bright thing is about the only ray of sunshine currently around. Plus one of the PCs has just failed1 to boot. Need breakfast! How can it be 11:20 already? It's a jolly good job Jane Austen's Persuasion is on BBC7.

Mr Postie's jolly parcel van managed to break through the icebergs to drop off a couple of endorphin raisers. Mind you, if the BBC can drop Ms Thatcher for an off-air remark about someone's resemblance to a "golliwog",2 Gawd knows what they'd have to say about showing one of the films here, regardless of who wrote and directed it:

Book and DVDs

Mr ("Good morning, sir, I'm not selling anything. Have you considered solar panels?") Cold Caller in his white van who approached me as I was trying to remain upright and unload the latest batch of supplies from the boot of the car somehow had the opposite effect.

Endorphins rise again, though, as I listen to a stupid person trying to defend a stupid Channel 4 programme that apparently set up a stupid version of what sounds almost like Lord of the Flies. It's actually being described as an "experiment" though permission would (it seems) never have been granted on ethical grounds alone.

I added the Daniel Day-Lewis DVD to the image above 'cos Mr Postie popped back on foot, twice, with it and a solicitor's letter (more work) and Private Eye — the front cover of which shows our beloved Leader pledging "British dole for British workers!". Meanwhile, lunch is loaded, an aunt has been rung, as has dear Mama, and (good grief) it's already 15:01. The car is out on the drive in hopes of scaring away the ice tonight.

Bother!

Just back from a second foray, to post my reply, to pick up the cereals and fruit I had no room for earlier, and to call in on my bank to suggest I'd enjoyed the £50 cash advance I'd taken out but that it had yet to appear on the online statement some 17 days later. Turns out (of course) I whacked in the JLP (credit) card rather than the current account (debit) card, so I will now end up paying interest, dammit. Temperature has dropped to 4C with the sun's disappearance. I suppose the clouds will either keep it above freezing or deposit many more tons of snow, depending on their mood later this evening. It's 17:20 — time for a soothing cuppa.

Isn't this faintly wonderful?

Keep calm

Particularly as I'm listening to the BBC's Robert Peston being asked by a parliamentary committee whether he was responsible for the run on "Northern Rock".

  

Footnotes

1  And, having applied the usual cure: suspend it, count to ten, re-awaken it, it's now added a new trick to its repertoire. A thin, flickering, blue line despoiling the screen in that irritating "what was that in the corner of my eye?" way. Now, how would one program it to do that? And, having just twitched the mouse, that's it. Blank screen. Power off and on re-cycle. Fingers crossed (except that I can't currently cross my index finger). Back to normal?
2  Were I to look hard enough, I may yet still find a badge or two from my childhood diet of a certain brand of orange marmalade!