2014 — 11 April: Friday
Well, it turns out1 that Microsoft's Win8.1 Pro Update 1 also lies. I have apparently successfully installed the troublesome lump of gorp despite it popping up an error warning (this time, the error code was 80246007, and again, no help was available when following the link to "Help"). Since one of the options at that point was Restart and since, just after midnight I was in a devil may care sort of mood, that's what I did. Result? Some 5 minutes later the "Store" application is now sitting on the Taskbar. And should I ever venture off piste into the Start screen, the Power options and the Search icon are now sitting in the top right hand corner alongside my account name.
I gather these are about the only visible markers of success.
The trick may have been...
... to do a System Restore to the day before Update 1 appeared in Windows Update before going one final time through the Update process. Had it not worked, I was on the point of trashing it and reverting to 64-bit Windows 7 Ultimate.
:-)
Further proof...
... or, at least, circumstantial evidence, of success arrived when a 'problem' with a coincidental update to the Microsoft keyboard and mouse package suggested the need for its removal and re-installation. That, in turn, led to the full list of 'Apps' on the down-arrow version of the Start screen now highlighting the new arrival once it was in place. That, too, is a bit of a giveaway.2 There were also a couple of further updates specific to Win8.1 that had not been there before when I did a final "Get Updates" scan last night.
Here's a timeline of the sordid saga. Note the two failures. Poor show, Microsoft:
I've just taken a System Image backup and added that to my store of comfort blankets. What's next? Breakfast, more tea, a light snack packed lunch, and a nice, long, head-clearing walk in some fresh air — in roughly that order. I've danced to Microsoft's tunes quite long enough for one week, thanks all the same. KBO
The sun is shining.
(Minor) domestic crisis alert #1
I've just trodden on a button on the kitchen floor and have absolutely no idea what item of local clothing is now deficient to the tune of one button. Dagnabbit. But it was a grand walk (starting out from Wherwell) and an interesting postal package was sitting on my doorstep wagging its tail happily to see me return:
The Addams Family Blu-ray replaces the DVD-R I cut from my ancient LaserDisc. My admiration for the cartoon family created by Charles Addams dates back to my acquisition, in 1965, of The Penguin Charles Addams though my earliest collection (Addams and Evil [1947]) didn't fall into my clutches until February 1989. Since I also now own not only another six Addams compilations but, more to the point, Robert Mankoff's sumptuous Complete Cartoons of the New Yorker (2004) I think it's fair to say I've Dysoned up just about every example of his work I can without being one of those weird, obsessive completeist types.
Nomi Prins, it turns out, was a managing director at the Vampire Squid aka Goldman Sachs so she should know pretty well3 of what she writes. And having heard the Mozart just a few days ago, and having heard my chum Tom praise Mr Brendel, I opted for his recording.
I recently managed to...
... palm off four surplus DVDs (having replaced them by Blu-rays). My recipient, however, insisted I accept this Blu-ray in return:
It turned out not to be the film I'd been thinking it was, and I haven't seen it. Peter Weir is a usually reliable director, too, so how could I refuse? Thanks, Brian!
(Minor) domestic crisis alert #2
My solicitor says she needs to see copies of my marriage certificate, Christa's will, and her death certificate. I intend to counter with the death certificate and the Grant of Probate (which contains her will, and clearly identifies each of us as the spouse of the other). This is simply because I have little or no hope of unearthing the marriage certificate in my lifetime. It's here somewhere. But then, a lot of things are here somewhere...