I spent 45 minutes rootling through the 3 boxes of “miscellaneous leads” in the loft, looking for an IEC (kettle-type) lead. Not one to be found! Ten years ago, I had half a dozen spares, I’m sure. Now everything seems to be the “cloverleaf” design (which is smaller). So I’ve had to order an IEC plug from Ebay.
Why do I need one? The power cut on New Year’s Eve seems to have finally put paid to the monitor on my desktop PC. Well, it came back on for an hour, but next time I tried it, it was thoroughly dead. Considering it was free, second-hand, 9 years ago, it’s not done badly. Anyway, replacement (secondhand) monitor arrived this morning, and needed an IEC lead (the old monitor used a power brick with a cloverleaf socket).
This photo (stolen from the local Green group) is everything I love about the part of the Cotswolds I grew up in.
Interesting cropmarks, hinting at a deep and rich history. The old road, running along the top of the valley, along which I cycled so many times on my way to the riding stables on the outskirts of Charlbury. The River Evenlode, in which I fished and swam, and investigated the remains of former (and one preserved) watermills. The railway, part of my current journey over to visit my Mum, and just visible from the attic windows of her house. And solar panels, offering the 21st century and a slim hope for the future.
Mum in hospital again. Cab to station 15 minutes late. Fortunately, train 9 minutes late. Breathless, but I’m on it! Hope to be with her around 2030.
It looks like a TIA or very minor stroke – anyway, she’s fully compos mentis and doesn’t seem physically affected. It’s an ever-present risk, as her blood pressure is frequently over 200! Probably staying in overnight, then outpatient stroke clinic tomorrow.
I’ve been having a few days of playing videos and records of recorded-live gigs I attended, shows I was involved in the production of, and suchlike. I was hunting for my CD of this, which I haven’t played for a couple of years. Either I’ve put it somewhere very stupid, or possibly the late, loved (but unfortunately larcenous) Maurice has “disappeared” it.
Anyway, this is the show of which I am most proud of having been Production Manager (not to knock “A Slice of Saturday Night”, which is a close-run second!).
I’ve never seen “The Gardener” (aka “Garden of Evil”), which has the reputation of being one of the worst horror movies ever made – because it has no horror!
However, it was the first non-Warhol movie that the gorgeous Joe Dallesandro made, and – I think – the last movie in which he had long hair. Yes, I’ve found a second-hand copy on DVD, and ordered it. This may turn out to be a mistake …
I’m planning an evening of watching the Warhol/Morrisey Dallesandro movies – “Flesh”, “Trash” and “Heat”. I’ll save the Warhol-in-name-only horror movies of “Andy Warhol’s Frankenstein” and “Blood for Dracula” until “The Gardener” arrives.
The trigger for my own interest in pacifism, at the age of 12 in 1967, was reading “Goodbye to all that” by Robert Graves, which covers his experiences in the trenches in the Great War. It’s scary to think that the distance between 1967 and now is the same as the distance between that War and 1967, and we’ve made so little progress.
Anyway, having (as usual) passed out a few White Poppies to assorted friends and acquaintances over the past few days, I will be observing the Silence on my own.
I then plan to listen to the War Requiem – something I haven’t done for at least ten years. Britten was, of course, a pacifist (and a supporter of the Peace Pledge Union, who produce the White Poppies).
About to leave for home, briefly, for a change of clothes, pick up my prescription, feed cat, and have a shower and shave. Then back to my Mum’s, as she’s decided she’s not well enough to be on her own overnight.
It can’t be helped, but my own health is starting to suffer.
Over to Oxford today: Mum was taken into hospital last night. Hopefully, it’s the same as last time, and a couple of days will sort things out for her. Fingers crossed.
(later, from FB comments)
She was released late afternoon, and is now home, though still very weak. The care team assessor – due 1730-1800 – turned up just before 2000h as I was halfway through cooking: supper now on indefinite hold until he finshes! I’ll probably stay here until Wednesday … I doubt that Mum will be able to get out of bed tomorrow.
A 1982 lp by John Otway I’ve been meaning to get for a while, and it finally cropped up on vinyl at a sensible price. The title refers to a temporary falling out with Wild Willy Barrett, with whom he recorded his previous album, and indeed his following one (“The Wimp and the Wild”).