Actually quite liking Ubuntu L…
Actually quite liking Ubuntu Lucid Lynx. Vast improvement on previous versions I’ve used. Almost as polished as Mac… but not quite.
Actually quite liking Ubuntu L…Actually quite liking Ubuntu Lucid Lynx. Vast improvement on previous versions I’ve used. Almost as polished as Mac… but not quite.
Yay! Upgraded Ubuntu and manag…Yay! Upgraded Ubuntu and managed to get wireless working! Finally!
Just been writing an article f…Just been writing an article for crossring.com about divorce. It’ll be live next week, so watch out for that one…
Printing lots of cute photos o…Printing lots of cute photos of @baby_samuel for some photo frames. Yay!
Some people get jobs as fishmo…Some people get jobs as fishmongers. Others become ironmongers. My new ambition is greater still – I want to be a pineapplemonger.
Not had any painkillers for ov…Not had any painkillers for over 24 hrs, feeling fine so far. Must be on the mend!
Making my blog more personalSuccessful bloggers, and indeed writers in most fields, will tell you that the key to success is to pick your target market and stick to it. No surprise, then, that the most read blogs are ones where their authors talk religiously about their chosen topic, whether that be a blog about programming methods or a blog about one man’s journey to become a vintage bus driver.
In spite of this well-acknowledged fact, you’ll notice that my blog is still littered with a whole plethora of categories, covering all sorts of topics and areas of life. I have chosen not to focus on one target audience, but to write infrequently about everything instead.
Now, finally, I’ve got round to introducing a way for you, the reader, to take control of my blog and only show the articles you’re actually interested in.
Going to church this morning, …Going to church this morning, first time in a month! And no, I haven’t been deliberately avoiding it.
Camping in the slow lane
There’s something about young people that fills me with optimism. Perhaps it’s their all-encompassing world view. Maybe it’s their insatiable love for life. Or possibly even just because I remember being a young person myself and how crucial it was in my development. Whatever the reason, I’ve discovered I all to easily agree to help kids in all sorts of ways, keen to teach them something new, point them in the right direction, prod them into thinking about things in a new way, and then shove them off a cliff to see how far they fly.
I guess it’s partly with that in mind that I and my wife are leaders each year on a Christian youth camp. I say ‘partly’ because the other half of the reason I go is that Ellie asked me to, and since we were engaged at the time (the first year we went) I felt I ought to say yes. Since that first year we’ve both made ourselves quite indispensible, doing lots of stuff, leading lots of things, running hither and thither to help out wherever we can.
This year was slightly different for both of us, for different reasons. The main difference for me, as you may have read, is that I’ve had a hernia. I was under doctor’s orders not to lift anything heavier than a kettle, and not to do too much walking around either. Ellie’s time was also eaten into by the attention of our baby Samuel, who had his first experience of exuberant teenagers this year. Camp this year was tough on all of us – physically and mentally.
According to www.freemosquitor…According to http://www.freemosquitoringtones.org I have the hearing of a 40 year old. Now that’s depressing. Bye bye 15khz and above.
Trying desperately not to want…Trying desperately not to want my father-in-law’s new netbook. Currently failing. It’s like my laptop, only cuter.
All patched upGood news folks, I’m on the road to recovery following my hernia operation. I won’t bore you with the details… oh, who am I kidding, this is a blog after all.
Friday didn’t feel ominous or troubled at all. There were no dark clouds, no rumblings of thunder, no vultures perched on the lampposts. It was just an ordinary summer’s day, with blue sky and wispy white clouds and birds singing in the trees. And, quite honestly, I wasn’t worried one bit. Ever since I had been given the diagnosis I had remained calm and philosophical about the whole thing. People had reassured me that it wasn’t scary or dangerous and they were sure I’d be fine. I could have told them that. It wasn’t until the night before that I had wondered why people seemed so intent on reassuring me, that perhaps I had been too blasé about the whole thing and actually there was something to fear after all. But no, I pushed those thoughts aside, took a deep breath of clean morning air, and walked confidently – if slowly – into the hospital.
I was met with a look of surprise when I announced myself at reception. ”Hello,” I said, “I’m here for an operation.” I had so wanted to walk up to reception and declare at the top of my lungs “They’re going to take me apart!” But I muffed it at the last minute. How boring. ”Okay,” the receptionist replied and, looking round me said “and… are they with you too?” Yes. My support crew. My groupies. My dedicated followers. Or, to be more precise, my wife (who would be coming in with me), my son (who wouldn’t be), my chauffeur (because I wasn’t allowed to drive myself home), and my hanger-on (whose job it was to entertain Samuel). From the receptionist’s expression, clearly I was the first person ever to have day-surgery who came with such an entourage. I felt at the same time guilty and proud.
Yesterday they tore my belly o…Yesterday they tore my belly open and stitched it back up. So why is it my back that aches this morning? Mmm, painkillers…
Operation this morning. Feelin…
Does anyone else think the new…Does anyone else think the new Sherlock theme tune sounds similar to the 60′s Randall And Hopkirk (Deceased) theme tune? Spooky.
Ah, Twinings Tea. How much do …Ah, Twinings Tea. How much do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. Okay, I’m bored of counting now, and my tea’s cold.
Being holeyNo, that’s not a spelling mistake, I didn’t mean “holy”. Nor did I mean “wholly” (not least because that would make the sentence incomplete). I do actually mean holey, as in having a hole. Yes, dear readers, I have a hernia.
There’s a hole in my abdomen, dear Liza, dear Liza,
There’s a hole in my abdomen, dear Liza, a hole.
For the uninitiated, a hernia is basically a hole in the muscle wall where the tissues and/or organs contained within are allowed to poke through and become strangulated. It’s unclear as to when or how I sustained this impairment, but I first noticed it about a month ago as a pain underneath my belly button that didn’t go away on its own. I paid a visit to my GP, who identified it as an umbilical hernia, and sent me packing to Bath Royal United Hospital for confirmation from a surgeon. Thankfully I was still able to drive. Otherwise it would have been a very long walk.
Argh!! A week away and I come…Argh!! A week away and I come back to 400+ tweets, nearly 400 items in my RSS feeds, and a small mountain of emails. I may be some time…