We're all going on a ...

Summer Holiday!

Hoorah! Our summer holiday is rapidly approaching.
Oh, No! Our summer holiday is rapidly approaching
.. and we've got precious little ready.

That's this week's evenings sorted, then.
To be fair, we have got the tickets, renewed the passports, updated my driving licence, had the car radiator replaced, and - wait for it - made a list. You know the ones: a back-of-an-envelope, scribbled list in pencil of "things to take on holiday". Our list centres on things to entertain the children.

I hesitate to point out that there will be no updates to this blog for a few weeks. Regular readers will know, however, that I'm not a regular blogger. C'est la vie.

No more worries for a week or two ...

It's a bittersweet symphony this life ...

I don't know why, particularly as I'm not a footie fan, but I feel this particular news item is worth a mention:

Comedian dies covering World Cup

It seems strangely bitter-sweet that someone should die doing something they love - and are loved for.

R.I.P. Claudio Besserman "Bussunda" Vianna

99 Bottles of beer of the wall ...

Darn it! I'm slipping .. into blog apathy.

At least my blog hasn't disappeared off the net ... What did happen to Stray Toaster?

[a slight pause is inserted here - for comic effect - as one of my colleagues across the office spectacularly spills his full glass of water over the entire desk and surrounding area]

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Apologising for lack of posting. Well, it's hot: that's my excuse. Yes, I know it's only just started being hot .. but I'm going to stick to my flimsy excuse anyway.

As for news, I've just entertained the office with the Befunge programming language - which they'd somehow got to where they are without knowing about. In case you're wondering, try reading the Wikipedia pages or the Dictionary of Programming Languages. There's even a delightful JavaScript interpreter - so you can try it at home.

What to Befunge programs look like? Try this for size:

  9::*\2*+00p0v"."0<
>310p0","     >"llaw eht no "v  >#v_ ^
^_210p0"--:"                 v  ,  
 :    v     " of beer"       <  :  
 -                >"selttob"00g.^ <     <
 1         >00g1-#^_$" elttob erom enO" ^
      >00g#^_$" selttob erom oN"        ^
 ^_110p0",dnuora ti ssap ,nwod eno ekaT"^
  ^:-1_010p00g1-00pvv:-1g01_@#g00,*25<
      ^             <

just copy & paste it into the interpreter & away you go.


Take one down, pass it around ...

And I wish I was on that N17 ...

Well, not actually the N17 - 'cos that's elsewhere [pause for whistful sigh]. Nope: we were on the A6. Doesn't even scan. It did, however, take us on our first Sunday outing to the Peaks. A jolly time was had, too. Even our eldest - who was doing grumpy teenager on account of inadequate sleep - managed to enjoy herself over a frothy hot chocolate (well, you would, wouldn't you?).

We sampled the touristy delights of Bakewell (home of the pie/pudding/tart of the same name). The children even learned something! [Not anything partuicularly useful, of course ;^)] Apparently, the Bakewell Pudding was created by accident as a result of a misunderstood recipe. Or something.

What with this and going to see Little Britain Live on Saturday we're beginning to con ourselves that we might be getting a life.

My family will now be off to collect our new puppy. We'd promised ourselves that our new life in our new house in a new part of the country would involve a dog. And hey - why not. There's loads of rolling countryside hereabouts. Roll on walkies: rain or shine, I'm sure there's something rather therapeutic about it.

... Stone walls and the grass is green

What a difference a day makes ...

That was then .. this is now.

We are, finally, moved in. That'll learn me to wax lyrical about how straightforward things seem to be. What'll learn me? I hear you cry. Well, the saga continues ..

Almost immediately following my last post [no, not the last post. tsk], we went to see our new house. All full of enthusiasm, we drove to our new home. I stopped off at the estate agents and was greeted at the door with a cheery "hello - come to collect the keys?". But keys there were none. "Sorry - we don't seem to have them yet." It was about that time I started to get that sinking feeling.

A quick visit to the house confirmed that the previous owners had not yet moved out - completely. The brief urge to ram the door, change the locks and sue them for the cost of dumping their remaining belongings subsided and we called it a day and went home, somewhat deflated.

To cut a long story short, all was resolved by the next morning and the removals duly transported our stuff in numerous boxes from old to new and we are now installed. I hesitate to say "moved in", as there is a significant proportion of our wherewithall which is still in boxes. We do, however, have a living room, a fairly clear kitchen and a pro tem dining room in the conservatory. We all have beds and are beginning to sort out the "occasionally used" items (junk to you and me).

So life is beginning to take some shape. The shape is embryonic at present, but becoming more real and believable by the day. The crowing of the cockerel which lives round the corner is already familiar - as is the neighing of the horse in a nearby field. The sounds of trunk road have been replaced by children playing and (as you can tell), civilisation has arrived in the form of broadband.

... brought the sun and the flowers ...

Movin' on up ...

Movin on out ...

Well, we've bought a house. Wahooooo!

What's even better is that it hasn't been the feared Aunty Climax [no - not a real person, or a Bond villain .. though it probably should be] so far. In fact, it all happened very straghtforwardly in the end.

Time to break free,
Nothing can stop me

I'm So Excited! ...

And I just can't hide it ...

Exchange is no robbery, they say. Well, it remains to be seen whether we've been robbed or not - but we've exchanged. Contracts, that is. On our house purchase. Oh, do keep up!

After what feels like a very long time, there is finally light at the end of the getting-settled-in-our-own-house tunnel. This allows a great feeling of relief - tempered by the knowledge that there's a lot of hard work to go before we're actually in. Plenty more putting stuff in boxes - followed by a day's supervising the removals men load and unloading, and finally some days and weeks of taking stuff out of boxes. But then - we've got the house all to ourselves and can do whatever we like with it. (Within reason, of course ;^).) Watch this space for happy blogging on the topic of DIY. I could even start a Squidoo "lens"; now there's a thought ... but would that actually leave enough time to do any DIY? ;^)

Take good care of my ... baby ...

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: A Cautionary Tale

No, not quite Robert Pirsig's well-known story .. but a similar theme.

On t'way 'home t'other day, I came across this bloke. The first I saw were 'is bike in't middle of t'road - by t'crash barriers. [Snap out of it! you're not in Yorkshire, y'know.] Sorry. Anyway, the rider was stood - rather forlorn - on the soft shoulder. Yes, it does affect the story. So: being a good one-of-the-fraternity* biker, I duly slammed on the anchors and stopped.

The important fact here is that he had had a lucky escape. Turns out his chain had jumped off the sprocket and locked the back wheel. He'd left an impressive strip of rubber on the road - skidding from 50 MPH to zero. I have to say I was impressed that he'd stayed upright. I am also of the opinion - and here we get to the point of this post - that he should've taken more care looking after his bike. The reason, you see, for this mishap appeared to be the poor state the bike was in.

Now I have to put my hand up here and admit that there - but for the grace of God - I could have gone. For the want of some decent chain oil I failed to lube my chain for two months over the winter. The result was that the bike sounded like the big end was going, and I'm sure the chain has stretched more that you'd expect. But now I've got me a can of high-qualidy (sic) chain lube and religiously apply same to the chain one a week. I'm a reformed character. As such, I'm gonna do as all reformed characters do and preach at those who need reforming.

So back to our hapless biker. He, apparently, had noticed that the chain was loose and that a few (!) teeth were missing from the sproket - but as the gaps were evenly spread he figured it'd be OK. He had tensioned the chain and off he went. The first evening of his new job. For which, of course, he was now late. More haste, less speed - as my parents say. For added entertainment value, he now couldn't move the bike - back wheel being jammed an' all. As luck would have it, a Police car went passed on the other carriageway and came back our side, stopping both lanes of traffic. We staggered across the road with the ailing bike and not being able to prop it up safely on the soft shoulder, blocked the nearside carriageway.

The moral of this tale, if there is one, is take care of the important details. The trick, of course, is working out which details are important ...


... Be just as kind as you can be-e-e-e


* what should the collective noun be for bikers? Fraternity implies all blokes - which isn't quite the truth. Community is a bit wooly; in both senses. Answers on a postcard ...

Power to the people ...

Have your say! Choose how you'd power the UK.

My personal choice would be as much reusable energy as possible - and preferrably at a local level. Everyone could take responsibility for their own power use: a small wind turbine on each roof; solar-power-assisted heating, solar electricity panels. Reduce consumption, too. Put a premium power-tax on wasteful, unnecessary gadgets. Electric can openers - surely very few people really need one of these? Ban toys with bettery-powered sound effects. Oh, and electric carving knives .. why? If only I could pursuade my family to turn the lights off once in a while ...


Power to the people, right on!

We're lovin' it like that ...

Get this: Coke-smuggling granny jailed for eight years. Why is it that this just sounds funny? If it was some disaffected youf, then it'd be shameful and somehow make the world seem a slightly less safe place to be. As it's billed as a "granny", it sounds somehow cuter. Ir is that just me?

Of course, when you read the article, you find out she's only 52 - and therefore in solid "Ma Barker" territory. Return to scary. [Note: not "Ma Baker" - as sung by Boney M - though that refers to the same person .. just got the name wrong.]

Good grief! "Only 52" says me. According to my dear daughter, anyone over 30 is decrepit. I must be getting old .. or at least growing up. (Is that worse?)

Here's to senescent crime ...

Dizzy ...

... I'm in a spin.

I've got that "Stop the world! I want to get off!" feeling. Suffering with a bit-of-a-cold (no, not that "Man Flu" - whatever that means), I am rapidly entering a flat spin as the impending house move looms ever nearer. I do love a good mixed metaphor ...

On a different subject: Synical Marketing Ploy Alert! If our greeting card industry is the envy of the world, it is because they successfully manufacture occasions to buy them. Easter is the tip of the iceberg, I reckon. Father's day: since when? Now there's granparent days and goodness knows what else. I'm wondering whether it's not a QUANGO which dreams up "National <whatever> Day"s after all. Maybe it's the Greeting Card Association. I do love a good conspiracy theory ...

Like a whirlpool, it never ends ...

It's Still Rock 'n Roll To Me ...

I want some LED Rims too!

Now I know I'm a synical onld whatsit, but I'd get in there quick before they get banned. These babies are wide open to abuse. I just think that they're missing one feature: animation. Just think .. you could emblazon your wheels with a moving image of - wait for it - spinning hub caps! Now that's what I call a set of wheels ...

Well, are you gonna cruise the miracle mile?

If a picture paints a thousand words ...

Having been reminded about GPS on Stray Toaster, I present to you, the wonders of GPS Drawing. My favourite is the Brighton Boat. The waterline of the boat is the coast road: nice touch.

Some people really should be given more to do! ;^)

It's a bittersweet symphony ...

Well, well, well.

Our two year (!) search for somewhere to live our lives moved another step closer to resolution on Friday. We finally exchanged contracts on selling our old house, with completion scheduled for this Friday. Now empty, the place looks slightly shabby; but the new occupants seem enthusiastic enough to breathe new life into it. Which is nice.

Meanwhile, our attempt to buy ourselves somewhere else seem confused: we're getting different stories from the Estate Agent and the Solicitor. The Agent says the vendor is happy to move out into temporary accommodation to enable a speedy sale; the Solicitor is saying that the information tey have indicated that the vendor is tying the sale into their further purchase. So .. who's telling the truth? Watch this space for answers to this and other questions ...

Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year ...

OK, not an original topic .. but I'm getting bored with winter, now. "Next, please!"

Maybe the spring weather is trying to force home the point that Spring only really starts at the equinox - later this month. Maybe it is waiting for our house sale / purchase farce to sort itself out. Maybe global warming is already having effect ...

I was trying to explain to my children that global warming may not - as they had assumed - mean that the UK will be basked in all-year-round sunshine. I tried to explain about gulf streams and pointed out that at the same distance north of the equator, the great lakes freeze over every year. They weren't impressed. Truth to tell, I probably didn't explain it in child language very well - but then, they did spring it on me. The down-side of home educating is that child-led learning means you don't get the preparation time that school teachers get. Ho hum.

Meanwhile, it is snowing outside and I don't yet know whether we're going to exchange contracts this week or not. This is the last (and only) time I'm moving into rented accommodation before my house is sold! It's too much stress to be worthwhile.

Here's to a balmy spring (when it arrives), and the joys of exploring new territory.

Toodle pip!

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction ...

So sang the Rolling Stones - at number 1 when I was born, apparently. [Thanks to Stray Toaster for this one.]

This seems rather apposite, today. We seem to have moved a step closer to being able to exchange contracts on our house sale - but the buyer has managed to squeeze another 1400 quid out of us in the process. When selling a house in need of investment, it seems, you get stung both ends. The selling price gets dropped by some amount due to the work needing to be done, and then some more money has to be put aside for the same work when negotiating the contract. Pah!

.. ’cause you see I’m on losing streak.
I can’t get no, oh no no no ...

Mary had a little lamb ...

I can't decide whether this is a good idea or a rather sad sign of the times. Parents are now being offered a chance to learn nursery rhymes. What's up with that? I blame the parents .. Oh, I see.

In other news, another screen icon faces its end. Open All Hours? Not any more!

I hear the talk in codes ...

Roll up! Roll up! Here's your chance to be a part of Internet History^TM.

Cast your memories back to somewhere in 1942. Yeah .. well imagine, then. The Germans have begun encryping their radio transmissions using a "complex new cypher system" .. the Enigma. The Allied forces have discovered how to decrypt these and Station X has been set up at Bletchley Park.

For computer-heads like myself, this was a particularly significant development, as the modern computer as we know it has its origins in the "Colossus" machine created by Tommy Flowers - thanks to Alan Turing. (Later ordered to be destroyed by Winston Churchill - go figure!)

In 1995, three intercepted Enigma messages - never before decrypted - were published. Now, Stefan Krah has written a code-breaking program designed to be run by many computers - connected via the internet. This is where you come in. Go to his website. Download the program, install and run*.

Enjoy!

* you'll need to have access to port 65500 on keyserver.bytereef.org. If you're behind a firewall and nothing seems to be happenning, consult your network administrator

I read the news today, oh boy ...

Amongst the sadder news this week (the death of Lynda Smith, TV comedian and a shooting at a Kanye West gig), I found this gem:

Colon Family in exploding toilet ordeal.
Ay caramba indeed! Some surnames are just trouble ... though I'm certan I shouldn't laugh.

Hurry up Harry, come on ...

Heads up! It's National Pubs Week (according to the BBC - so it must be true, n'est pas?). They've even provided a pub quiz. I did appallingly badly. I must repair to an hostelry and study some more ...

This brings me to the question: who makes up these "National ... Week" events, and is there a Central Office of National Weeks? Did CAMRA dream up this week? What would happen, for example, if Alcoholoics Anonymous decided to declare this week National Abstinence Week, too?

Answers, please.

Meanwhile, I'm off to improve my score ...