On the care of the pig
Two hours sleep. Just to ensure today would suck a tiny bit more. After hours of middle of the night fretting, eventually I got up and downloaded some stories by PG Wodehouse which I listened to on the iPod on the way to work.
Working with a freelance digital creative called Paul, on a big website. He says he was stillborn in South Africa, and the first heart transplant surgeon Dr Christian Barnard saved his life. If he ever gets around to writing his autobiography, that's not a bad opening.
But feeling disempowered. And very stressed, not least by an ominous silence about my move to part time. Meanwhile The Gnome's son ill and in hospital for precautionary checks - he had a very serious and rare viral condition a couple of years ago that required chemotherapy. So the Gnome obviously a bit concerned.
Got some video today from Sprinkles with herself as an alien, which made me laugh. Anton meanwhile uploading some stuff to the true and wonderfull site in the June archive, and also using Google Earth to find a way of showing our route for the walk.
Left work militantly on time today. Trains as usual not working properly again, and had to stand all the way to Brighton. But listening to "The Crime Wave at Blandings" a short story by Wodehouse -- about Lord Emsworth who generally gets put upon, until people start menacing each other with his Grandson's air gun -- really helped. I found myself identifying with Lord Emsworth who wants nothing more than to be left alone to read his favourite book: Whipple's On the care of the pig.
I know how he feels.
Two hours sleep. Just to ensure today would suck a tiny bit more. After hours of middle of the night fretting, eventually I got up and downloaded some stories by PG Wodehouse which I listened to on the iPod on the way to work.
Working with a freelance digital creative called Paul, on a big website. He says he was stillborn in South Africa, and the first heart transplant surgeon Dr Christian Barnard saved his life. If he ever gets around to writing his autobiography, that's not a bad opening.
But feeling disempowered. And very stressed, not least by an ominous silence about my move to part time. Meanwhile The Gnome's son ill and in hospital for precautionary checks - he had a very serious and rare viral condition a couple of years ago that required chemotherapy. So the Gnome obviously a bit concerned.
Got some video today from Sprinkles with herself as an alien, which made me laugh. Anton meanwhile uploading some stuff to the true and wonderfull site in the June archive, and also using Google Earth to find a way of showing our route for the walk.
Left work militantly on time today. Trains as usual not working properly again, and had to stand all the way to Brighton. But listening to "The Crime Wave at Blandings" a short story by Wodehouse -- about Lord Emsworth who generally gets put upon, until people start menacing each other with his Grandson's air gun -- really helped. I found myself identifying with Lord Emsworth who wants nothing more than to be left alone to read his favourite book: Whipple's On the care of the pig.
I know how he feels.
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