Back in the 1980s, I bought a Commodore 64; it was good in what it did, if the graphics were simple, to say the least, but when you got a good game conversion, like Zaxxon, it was like being on an arcade machine, in your house. But, in truth, such moments were rare, most games having blocky graphics, if that, and my interest waned and sold it shortly before it broke. Terminally. Shit happens, and I got to pocket £50 or so.
Fast forward to the 1990s and I got my first PC, a 386 with a CD drive and 320 meg of RAM. It seemed an immense amount. Windows 95 filled that up, however, and as the years went by I bought fast computers with more memory and more gadgets.
Now I have a two and a half year old laptop with three, now four, external hard drives. I take the occasional picture, and so the space for storing them and backing up images becomes ever harder. I have two camera, the newer one, if I shoot in RAW, produces files 16 or 17 Gig in size, and a few hundred of them a day really uses up storage space. I have two 320 Gig drives, plus a 500 which is connected to the laptop at all times, because I only have a couple of months shots on the laptop at any time, as this slows down it’s performance. The two drives which are disconnected are not now big enough for all the pictures I have, plus the digital music and files and other things we need to save, and so we took delivery of a 1.5 terabyte drive yesterday.
And during the night I transferred all the pictures onto it, it took over eight hours. But at least we have room for many more years, or months, of photographs before we think about splashing the cash again.
When I used to work on ships, I took a laptop and two external drives, one with every picture I had taken in case I wanted to edit or look at them; and another with films and TV series on to watch during weather down days and 200 CDs worth of music just in case I got bored!
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Tuesday 13th July 2010
At least I slept well on Saturday night, even with the humid conditions, and we decided to head out for the day. As we were going to visit a friend in Whitstable, we thought we would spend most of the day there; it’s an interesting place, and should have been cooler on the coast than inland.
It is a good drive to the north coast, and although it is mostly the way I go to work, on a quiet Sunday morning it is pleasant enough. All along the side of the road, wild flowers, once a riot of colour are now turning to seed, but as they die off wild peas bloom now.
Whitstable is still a working port, but with its mix of small independent shops, bars and general bohemian atmosphere is booming again as an upmarket place to visit. I failed to remember this, and as we arrived, so had most of Kent . We parked at a school, with the cost all going to charity, and walk quicker than the queue of traffic into the heart of the town and then onto the beach.
Our thought had been to have breakfast at the Oyster House, but they had changed their opening times and now no longer did breakfasts and only opened at midday; hordes of people were waiting outside for midday to come round so they could claim a table. A pub opposite offering breakfasts over the road did not seem too welcoming when we waited at the bar to order, and so we walked out and after a walk along the High Street ended up in Costa Coffee, where we had paninis and a bath-sized cup of coffee. We sat under the air conditioning unit, and we cool for the only time that day.
The area around the beach and yacht club was jammed with people, as day trippers and boaty type people vied for space. It was good just to sit down and watch them mix, or not, and grab snatches of conversation. We went to the Old Neptune pub, which is right on the beach, and had a cold beer and cider, before making our way back to the car and then onto our friend who lives somewhere on the backstreets with views up the hills beyond and the windmill that overlooks the town.
And in the early evening, we head back home for dinner and then to sit down to watch the World Cup Final on TV. And what a disappointment that turned out to be, all fouls and play acting by players good enough and old enough to know better. It felt such a let-down after two good teams had made it to the final, but only Spain turned up to play football; Holland resorting to basic tactics of kicking anything in a blue shirt that moved. At least it is over for another year, another four years, rather. But on the radio on Monday morning, they were already trailing the new football season, which is due to start in less than 3 weeks now. It’ll be like it was never away.
It is a good drive to the north coast, and although it is mostly the way I go to work, on a quiet Sunday morning it is pleasant enough. All along the side of the road, wild flowers, once a riot of colour are now turning to seed, but as they die off wild peas bloom now.
Whitstable is still a working port, but with its mix of small independent shops, bars and general bohemian atmosphere is booming again as an upmarket place to visit. I failed to remember this, and as we arrived, so had most of Kent . We parked at a school, with the cost all going to charity, and walk quicker than the queue of traffic into the heart of the town and then onto the beach.
Our thought had been to have breakfast at the Oyster House, but they had changed their opening times and now no longer did breakfasts and only opened at midday; hordes of people were waiting outside for midday to come round so they could claim a table. A pub opposite offering breakfasts over the road did not seem too welcoming when we waited at the bar to order, and so we walked out and after a walk along the High Street ended up in Costa Coffee, where we had paninis and a bath-sized cup of coffee. We sat under the air conditioning unit, and we cool for the only time that day.
The area around the beach and yacht club was jammed with people, as day trippers and boaty type people vied for space. It was good just to sit down and watch them mix, or not, and grab snatches of conversation. We went to the Old Neptune pub, which is right on the beach, and had a cold beer and cider, before making our way back to the car and then onto our friend who lives somewhere on the backstreets with views up the hills beyond and the windmill that overlooks the town.
And in the early evening, we head back home for dinner and then to sit down to watch the World Cup Final on TV. And what a disappointment that turned out to be, all fouls and play acting by players good enough and old enough to know better. It felt such a let-down after two good teams had made it to the final, but only Spain turned up to play football; Holland resorting to basic tactics of kicking anything in a blue shirt that moved. At least it is over for another year, another four years, rather. But on the radio on Monday morning, they were already trailing the new football season, which is due to start in less than 3 weeks now. It’ll be like it was never away.
Monday, 12 July 2010
Monday 12th July 2010
Yay, Monday!
Well, back to work again, after a scorching weekend, well, everywhere except 'oop north and the East Kent coast, i.e. here. The north had rain and gales whilst we got sea fog. Lots of sea fog, but only for a few hundred yards from the sea, and in the garden at Chez jelltex it was roasting.
Friday was spent fasting in preparation for my hospital procedure, and then pick Jools up and we head to Canterbury and then wait. And wait. And then complete the paerwork and then; more waiting. And then into the theatre, hello doctor, what you doing with that tube? wahey!
And then back home and time to recover and get my appetite back and generally prepare myself for the weekend.
So, Saturday began with the traditional trip to Tesco, and unlike most early mornings, the hot weather had brought the crowds out, rather those of a certain age who don't sleep in. So, we rushed round, got stuff for the week and then after paying got the heck out of there.
we got back, had breakfast, and then put on our walking shoes and went for a wander around our local area, along country tracks, across fields, looking in hedges and ending up at the cliffs, where the mist was being blown up the cliff face and then glowing bright white as it caught the sun.
we snapped plants and butterflies, and then went into the cafe for a cup of tea whilst looking out over the top of the fog towards where France began some 23 miles away. The morning was broken by the occasional lowing of ships' fog horns, giving it an odd feeling.
As we walked back through the back lanes of the village, I kept thinking, we live here; how lucky we are.
Well, back to work again, after a scorching weekend, well, everywhere except 'oop north and the East Kent coast, i.e. here. The north had rain and gales whilst we got sea fog. Lots of sea fog, but only for a few hundred yards from the sea, and in the garden at Chez jelltex it was roasting.
Friday was spent fasting in preparation for my hospital procedure, and then pick Jools up and we head to Canterbury and then wait. And wait. And then complete the paerwork and then; more waiting. And then into the theatre, hello doctor, what you doing with that tube? wahey!
And then back home and time to recover and get my appetite back and generally prepare myself for the weekend.
So, Saturday began with the traditional trip to Tesco, and unlike most early mornings, the hot weather had brought the crowds out, rather those of a certain age who don't sleep in. So, we rushed round, got stuff for the week and then after paying got the heck out of there.
we got back, had breakfast, and then put on our walking shoes and went for a wander around our local area, along country tracks, across fields, looking in hedges and ending up at the cliffs, where the mist was being blown up the cliff face and then glowing bright white as it caught the sun.
we snapped plants and butterflies, and then went into the cafe for a cup of tea whilst looking out over the top of the fog towards where France began some 23 miles away. The morning was broken by the occasional lowing of ships' fog horns, giving it an odd feeling.
As we walked back through the back lanes of the village, I kept thinking, we live here; how lucky we are.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Thursday 8th July 2010
And so another week draws to an end. In fact has just about drawn to an end as I have tomorrow off work due to a hospital appointment, and another session of being prodded and poked lays ahead. This means having Friday off, as I am now ‘nil by mouth’ until after the appointment and am now living on air and water. Which, and lets be honest about this, is no bad thing as I could do with losing a pund here and there and there and there.
And so on.
We are near to the end of the festival of football that is the World Cup; 62 games played and just two to go, and the final will be between ‘virgins’ Holland and Spain; should be a good match, two good footballing sides, but then we say this before most good games. Last night Spain outplayed Germany to win 1-0, by not letting Germany have a kick, which is one way of doing it; with Puyol, the Brian Connolly lookalike scoring the only goal with a permed header. Iberia went mad.
At work, things are going quite well, as I get to grips with the failings of the company and try to change things, no small task, but by the use of an avalanche of mails and coping in everyone I can think of, things are changing and nuggets of information are reaching me. The next step is to put in systems so that things will be better in future for people in my position, and be better for the company, and their much-trumpeted call of being global world leader will be well-earned.
Driving to and fro to work is, for the most part, a pleasure. It is the height of summer, and the hedgerows and side of the roads are a riot of colour as nature reclaims the periphery of civilisation, or as close as Thanet comes to that. The dual carriageway near Richborough power station, or it’s skeleton, is especially fine with wild bushes and other wild flora taking root and thriving.
As the world cup comes to an end, the thought is that in three weeks the football season will begin and the whole crazy thing will begin again. How is this possible; football just about 52 weeks a year? Can this be a good thing? I don’t think so; we need several months off it, with no football at all, and less on TV, so what is on is treated as a treat, not, ‘oh no, not more football!’ But, I am guessing, things will never change; 38 or 46 league games for each team, six Champion’s League group games, who knows how many knockout rounds, FA cup, League Cup, international games, Europa League and more besides. Once the season gets going there will be Football League games on Friday and Sundays, Premier League games Saturday (twice) Sundays (twice) and Mondays, Champion’s League games on Tuesdays and Wednesdays with Europa League on Thursdays with sometimes three games on that night. Phew indeed.
And so on.
We are near to the end of the festival of football that is the World Cup; 62 games played and just two to go, and the final will be between ‘virgins’ Holland and Spain; should be a good match, two good footballing sides, but then we say this before most good games. Last night Spain outplayed Germany to win 1-0, by not letting Germany have a kick, which is one way of doing it; with Puyol, the Brian Connolly lookalike scoring the only goal with a permed header. Iberia went mad.
At work, things are going quite well, as I get to grips with the failings of the company and try to change things, no small task, but by the use of an avalanche of mails and coping in everyone I can think of, things are changing and nuggets of information are reaching me. The next step is to put in systems so that things will be better in future for people in my position, and be better for the company, and their much-trumpeted call of being global world leader will be well-earned.
Driving to and fro to work is, for the most part, a pleasure. It is the height of summer, and the hedgerows and side of the roads are a riot of colour as nature reclaims the periphery of civilisation, or as close as Thanet comes to that. The dual carriageway near Richborough power station, or it’s skeleton, is especially fine with wild bushes and other wild flora taking root and thriving.
As the world cup comes to an end, the thought is that in three weeks the football season will begin and the whole crazy thing will begin again. How is this possible; football just about 52 weeks a year? Can this be a good thing? I don’t think so; we need several months off it, with no football at all, and less on TV, so what is on is treated as a treat, not, ‘oh no, not more football!’ But, I am guessing, things will never change; 38 or 46 league games for each team, six Champion’s League group games, who knows how many knockout rounds, FA cup, League Cup, international games, Europa League and more besides. Once the season gets going there will be Football League games on Friday and Sundays, Premier League games Saturday (twice) Sundays (twice) and Mondays, Champion’s League games on Tuesdays and Wednesdays with Europa League on Thursdays with sometimes three games on that night. Phew indeed.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Tuesday 6th July 2010
I can tell you what I was doing five years ago today. exactly what I was doing, I was coming back from Scotland after spending five days up there with Mother dearest, and it was time to head back south to Suffolk. And as we drove down the A1 through south Yorkshire, the announcement came over the radio that London, and not Paris had been given the right to hold the 2012 Olympics. I remember the yelp of joy, and the thought of all those stunned French in Paris, silenced by the news.
I also remember that less than 24 hours, as I prepared for the holiday of a lifetime, news came that at first there had been a power surge on the underground, and then confirmation that several deluded Yorkshire Muslims had blown themselves and many innocent people, up on various underground trains and double deck buses, and the world changed a little bit more.
Here's what I wrote about both days; brief and to the point:
Wednesday July 6
We had been worried about heading home, as it was the first day of the G8 summit, and much disruption was predicted in Scotland. In the end, we had more trouble in getting past Loch Lomond, as the Scottish Open was due to begin the next day, and fans were queuing to see the last day of practice. We were only held up 10 minutes of so, and in the traffic, we got wonderful views across the Loch, to the heather covered hills beyond, all purple and green in the bright sunshine.
The rest of the trip was fine, really. Traffic was light, weather fine, and we made good progress. Just south of Leeds, we heard that London was to host the 2012 Olympic Games. We cheered, and laughed at the cries of anguish of the French, as they were sure they were going to win. We stopped off for a meal at a roadside place, rather than have to cook when we got back. The last three hours of the trip, across the fens of Lincolnshire were a nightmare. Rain poured down, and an almost solid convoy of truck meant that we made slow time. So, it was a relief to get to Kings Lynn, and then Norwich as we neared home.
Thursday July 7
I had so much planned for today. I thought I would start with a lazy breakfast, and then sort out clothes and documents for the trip. I had just finished breakfast at about ten, when the radio says there had been some power outages on the London Underground, and all services had been suspended. I turned on the BBC news channel, and it soon became clear that something far worse had happened. News also came that a bus had exploded, and the full horror of the situation became obvious. I sat for hours dumbstruck at the images on the screen, how can people do this to one another? Nothing else seemed to matter. Nothing got done that day.
I have nothing against Muslims, I dislike all religions, most who believe they have their god on their side feel inclined be be shitty to those who do not share their beliefs.
Two days after the bombings I flew out to America for a nine week holiday and the final step in my divorce from the RAF. Yes, nine week holiday. even now it sounds great.
Today, I did drop my oppo in the shite, as he had done to me several times, and so I had no qualms about doing it back. That'll teach home to not do his jobs before he goes on holiday; maybe.
And I recovered my first monies for the project from another part of the company, and all in all was generally well organised and all that. A good day, really. And now an evening of world Cup football, lets hope the orange win, and cheats do not prosper!
I also remember that less than 24 hours, as I prepared for the holiday of a lifetime, news came that at first there had been a power surge on the underground, and then confirmation that several deluded Yorkshire Muslims had blown themselves and many innocent people, up on various underground trains and double deck buses, and the world changed a little bit more.
Here's what I wrote about both days; brief and to the point:
Wednesday July 6
We had been worried about heading home, as it was the first day of the G8 summit, and much disruption was predicted in Scotland. In the end, we had more trouble in getting past Loch Lomond, as the Scottish Open was due to begin the next day, and fans were queuing to see the last day of practice. We were only held up 10 minutes of so, and in the traffic, we got wonderful views across the Loch, to the heather covered hills beyond, all purple and green in the bright sunshine.
The rest of the trip was fine, really. Traffic was light, weather fine, and we made good progress. Just south of Leeds, we heard that London was to host the 2012 Olympic Games. We cheered, and laughed at the cries of anguish of the French, as they were sure they were going to win. We stopped off for a meal at a roadside place, rather than have to cook when we got back. The last three hours of the trip, across the fens of Lincolnshire were a nightmare. Rain poured down, and an almost solid convoy of truck meant that we made slow time. So, it was a relief to get to Kings Lynn, and then Norwich as we neared home.
Thursday July 7
I had so much planned for today. I thought I would start with a lazy breakfast, and then sort out clothes and documents for the trip. I had just finished breakfast at about ten, when the radio says there had been some power outages on the London Underground, and all services had been suspended. I turned on the BBC news channel, and it soon became clear that something far worse had happened. News also came that a bus had exploded, and the full horror of the situation became obvious. I sat for hours dumbstruck at the images on the screen, how can people do this to one another? Nothing else seemed to matter. Nothing got done that day.
I have nothing against Muslims, I dislike all religions, most who believe they have their god on their side feel inclined be be shitty to those who do not share their beliefs.
Two days after the bombings I flew out to America for a nine week holiday and the final step in my divorce from the RAF. Yes, nine week holiday. even now it sounds great.
Today, I did drop my oppo in the shite, as he had done to me several times, and so I had no qualms about doing it back. That'll teach home to not do his jobs before he goes on holiday; maybe.
And I recovered my first monies for the project from another part of the company, and all in all was generally well organised and all that. A good day, really. And now an evening of world Cup football, lets hope the orange win, and cheats do not prosper!
Monday, 5 July 2010
Monday 5th July 2010
And so we finally stirred after a night of deep sleep, which was possible as the temperature had dropped. Although we look forward to summer, we sometimes forget the downside of all that sunshine; sweaty balmy nights, bugs and insects, sunburn and the like. So, a good nights sleep is always welcome. Normally we get up at six or thereabouts, and are out and about, so to lay in bed until after eight, and then have a lazy breakfast and not be ready for the outside world is a pleasant luxury indeed.
It was already getting very warm, but with a cool breeze sweeping in from the south, so we decided not to go too far; Jools had never been to Walmer Castle , which is just a few miles from us, and that was to be our destination. I had been there before, a couple of weeks before starting this job, and the garden was stunning in spring; so I thought it would be even better at the height of summer.
It took ten minutes to drive to Walmer, and then find the last parking space in the shade of a large hedge; in fact I almost parked inside the hedge so to ensure the car would not get too hot for our return. Walmer Castle is very similar to the one at Deal, made of layers like four-leafed clovers, giving fine defences, although centuries ago it had been turned into a fine house, mansion or small palace, really.
We showed our English Heritage cards and walked through the house to the entrance to the garden, and into a riot of colour. All along the side of the moat on one side was all lilac, looking wonderful in the sunshine. Down in the moat, now all grassed and many years since it saw any water, is planted many trees and bushes, some in bloom, others in bud; when the Buddleia comes out it will be a fine sight, especially with the butterflies.
The kitchen garden is full of fruit and vegetables, all looking fine and well cared for; in the hot houses exotic plants and fruits are looking very well too. I snapped them all. We walked up through wide hedges, past flower beds wonderfully layered to give a wall of colour, up through laws laid out for croquet and into paddocks and then into woodland, feeling wonderfully cool in the dappled sunshine. A squirrel collected food in the dead leaves, and barely cast us a look.
We came to an ornamental pond, and the air was full of flashes of bright azure blue, as Imperial Dragonflies flittered hither and thither, the females pausing on lily pads to lay eggs. I even get shots of them on the wing, it was tricky, but the shots are not bad, even if I say so myself. After stopping in the shade of a summerhouse to watch the world go by, we decide to head home for lunch and a relaxing afternoon. We get a loaf of bread and a few other nice things for lunch, and head back.
It was already getting very warm, but with a cool breeze sweeping in from the south, so we decided not to go too far; Jools had never been to Walmer Castle , which is just a few miles from us, and that was to be our destination. I had been there before, a couple of weeks before starting this job, and the garden was stunning in spring; so I thought it would be even better at the height of summer.
It took ten minutes to drive to Walmer, and then find the last parking space in the shade of a large hedge; in fact I almost parked inside the hedge so to ensure the car would not get too hot for our return. Walmer Castle is very similar to the one at Deal, made of layers like four-leafed clovers, giving fine defences, although centuries ago it had been turned into a fine house, mansion or small palace, really.
We showed our English Heritage cards and walked through the house to the entrance to the garden, and into a riot of colour. All along the side of the moat on one side was all lilac, looking wonderful in the sunshine. Down in the moat, now all grassed and many years since it saw any water, is planted many trees and bushes, some in bloom, others in bud; when the Buddleia comes out it will be a fine sight, especially with the butterflies.
The kitchen garden is full of fruit and vegetables, all looking fine and well cared for; in the hot houses exotic plants and fruits are looking very well too. I snapped them all. We walked up through wide hedges, past flower beds wonderfully layered to give a wall of colour, up through laws laid out for croquet and into paddocks and then into woodland, feeling wonderfully cool in the dappled sunshine. A squirrel collected food in the dead leaves, and barely cast us a look.
We came to an ornamental pond, and the air was full of flashes of bright azure blue, as Imperial Dragonflies flittered hither and thither, the females pausing on lily pads to lay eggs. I even get shots of them on the wing, it was tricky, but the shots are not bad, even if I say so myself. After stopping in the shade of a summerhouse to watch the world go by, we decide to head home for lunch and a relaxing afternoon. We get a loaf of bread and a few other nice things for lunch, and head back.
Saturday, 3 July 2010
Saturday 2nd July 2010
The weekend is here.
already.
Getting used to the desk job has not been easy; seeing others gathering up their tools and kit in the morning and heading out to the harbour to begin work, and I sit at my computer tapping away. I had a haircut this morning, and the guy, just to make conversation, anything that mention the football, asked what I did. I receive paperwork, create more paperwork and pass it on, and then check up on old paperwork that I have done to see how it's coming along.
That about covers it. In theory, the NCR system is supposed to improve quality in the company; in reality parts of the company use it to delay paperwork until a project ends and the difficult questions vanish. I have to try to recover money that we have spent because of other's mistakes, from them. But they have to admit the mistake; it's easier getting blood out of a stone sometimes. No laid down procedures for just about everything, means they is no recourse if they deny a claim.
And so it goes around.
Yesterday was so damn hot; we have no air con in the office, and with all the computers and screens on, it does get uncomfortable sometimes. I was glad to get out and help on the quayside at the end of the day, as there was a breeze coming in off the sea.
Jools and I went out for a meal last night, in a country pub in Nortbourne; very nice it was too; honey and tarragon chicken for me, and pork in a cream and gherkin sauce for Jools. Both very nice.
and now it's the weekend; we went for a walk along the cliffs this morning, I took photos of some flowers and the scenery. And just getting ready for the football this afternoon; Germany vs Argentina; could be the game of the tournament so far. Brazil got knocked out last night, by Holland, and rightly so. and the English 'stars' are holidaying with their respective WAGS.
So it goes, so it goes.
already.
Getting used to the desk job has not been easy; seeing others gathering up their tools and kit in the morning and heading out to the harbour to begin work, and I sit at my computer tapping away. I had a haircut this morning, and the guy, just to make conversation, anything that mention the football, asked what I did. I receive paperwork, create more paperwork and pass it on, and then check up on old paperwork that I have done to see how it's coming along.
That about covers it. In theory, the NCR system is supposed to improve quality in the company; in reality parts of the company use it to delay paperwork until a project ends and the difficult questions vanish. I have to try to recover money that we have spent because of other's mistakes, from them. But they have to admit the mistake; it's easier getting blood out of a stone sometimes. No laid down procedures for just about everything, means they is no recourse if they deny a claim.
And so it goes around.
Yesterday was so damn hot; we have no air con in the office, and with all the computers and screens on, it does get uncomfortable sometimes. I was glad to get out and help on the quayside at the end of the day, as there was a breeze coming in off the sea.
Jools and I went out for a meal last night, in a country pub in Nortbourne; very nice it was too; honey and tarragon chicken for me, and pork in a cream and gherkin sauce for Jools. Both very nice.
and now it's the weekend; we went for a walk along the cliffs this morning, I took photos of some flowers and the scenery. And just getting ready for the football this afternoon; Germany vs Argentina; could be the game of the tournament so far. Brazil got knocked out last night, by Holland, and rightly so. and the English 'stars' are holidaying with their respective WAGS.
So it goes, so it goes.
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