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Fool's Paradise – Infinity on a Shoestring

PAYTON L. INKLETTER


I am currently reading: ... I am currently re-reading (3rd read!):

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

CINCINNATI: “Are you aware,” asks P.L. Inkletter, “that dear ‘Old Probability’ is the godfather of all little boys and girls who lie after the news?”


Be all that as it may, meanwhile:


In other news…

28th October 2009:


Wednesday: Try as I might to be up by half nine, I ended up asking the vivacious vixen to leave me another half hour, and when the luscious lollapalooza suggested an hour, I agreed, in a delta stupor, with unseemly haste; the developments of the previous day and night had me going to bed after dawn, and it took some time to shift my mind into alpha gear and wind down to desirable and badly needed delta; what were those developments did I hear you asking?: Oh, only a total inability to boot the computer early evening yesterday.


After trying a million things from within my limited knowledge, I phoned my sister in Broomehill, Helena, to confirm that I had permission to fire up her old computer I’ve got stored here for emergency use, format the HDD, install Win XP, and try to revive my system through use of this new system disk. This okay was immediate, but during the hour long catch up conversation she insisted that rather than waste a minute longer than necessary, this event would bring forward her long hatching plan to see to it that I got a Christmas present this year from my mother in the form of a new computing system.


You could have knocked me over with a baby’s sneeze, for I’ve been struggling with old and slow and flaky systems for over a decade, notwithstanding the significant advance this current system was for me last year when Baby Peggletter kindly passed it onto me from his work place when they upgraded their systems; nevertheless, there has been some glitchy gremlins in the metal of the current system that have caused too many sudden reboots, no boots, to boots, and numerous quirky and inexplicable happenings. I have tried to blame Bill Gates for as many of them as possible, as all good wannabe Linux sympathisers, and Cyrix and AMD and general underdog supporters should, but further developments overnight suggested that maybe I can’t lay this one on my girl Bill.


Anyway, I just digressed… After I picked myself up from the floor, the phone handpiece having hit me on the bonce about the time of contact with said nether house regions, I fought the proposal of my dear sister’s as long and feebly as I could; while on this long phone call, I would occasionally enter this option or that choice into the boot up sequences – the computer shares the same desk and the back room phone – and lo and behold, safe mode finally succeeded. However, most forebodingly, my major disk with all of my latest documents and research of the last year and more was not online, was missing, vanished… GULP!


We finished the call with this update of the missing disk and data to Helena, who encouraged me to let her know tomorrow what the outcome of any further progress – or the absence thereof – might be with bringing my system back to flaky ‘normal’, and the commitment to arrange an early Christmas present should I but whisper the idea. How nice a problem to have! I would never have asked in a million years; rather I would have struggled along, and when I could afford to I’d go for some barebones system and engraft my bits and pieces of this system to it.


Anyway, and meanwhile, back at the branch, the branch being this backroom, I spent the whole night establishing that there was nothing I could do to bring my terabyte WD HDD back on line, having opened up the box and finally disconnecting it and removing the PCI card which allows this SATA drive to work with this old PATA system. It just might be that the card has given up, even though it is barely a year old. I am hoping against hope that this is the case, because then when my terabyte WD HDD is reconnected minus the dead card, either to this system with a new card, or a modern system direct to the PATA slots on the motherboard, I’ll have all my data and blood sweat and tears back, including zillions of hours of Fool’s Paradise – Infinity on a Shoestring web sites’ work.


I did get the sytem working again minus the big disk, which fortunately is not my system disk (in fact, being an old motherboard, it can’t put the operating system onto a PATA HDD), and went online during the wee small hours to research possibilities for the Christmas present: I’m only human after all, and my missus would say that I’m still a little boy playing with my toys.


And so now my billions of daily readers know why I did not fight the delectable dollybird when she suggested I sleep in an hour more till half ten today. However, this meant I had to motor like the flipping klappers to do what needed doing today, which if most folk really knew, it would move them to mirth or disgust, for it wasn’t much objectively, but for this sick and tired old bull koala, it was flat strap mode.


My plan was to clean up the kitchen for my darling derringer, to give her the chance to work on a quilt job she’s doing for Chocci Chocson, and then before taking Bob swimming at Midvale, I wanted to pick up a book on crocheting I’d forgotten I’d ordered for the Celtic character at Angus & Robertson at the Galleria in Morley – which I did – as well as buy fruit and vegetables at that venerable institution for providing affordable fruit and vegetables for the masses, Benara Fresh in Beechboro – which I also did; this meant, however, that I didn’t get to Bob’s till half three, but he was happy, and we painted Swan Aquatic red, or rather, he did, being a naughty boy today and doing some splashy dives in direct defiance of my telling him he wasn’t allowed to (Bob is 56 years old mind you).


We finished with a dusk walk along the river front at Fish Market Reserve, and Bob had his cup of tea while I had my cup of hot water to cap off a pleasant late afternoon. I got fuel at Altone Road on my way back, and wasn’t home till New Inventors time, having missed Kezza the Great’s interview with Thérèse Rein (but I did phone the Birmingham beauty and talked her through the recording procedure so we both can watch it together at a later time).


After I ate my din dins kindly served me by the loving loquat, watching Spicks and Specks with her, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and she insisted I go to bed; I insisted she record Lateline for me…

+paytontedwithlove+

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