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Friday, October 30, 2009

VANTAA: “The eyes have it!” a sparking Payton L. Inkletter crackled, adding cryptically “Granite may be hard, but squint carefully and it’s colourful”

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

In other news…

30th October 2009:

Friday: Against the odds for an erratic sleeper, part time insomniac, I got through the whole night from before nine, with only a few short stretches of wakefulness. So with a couple of hours of pre-noon day to go, after the laborious and long winded process of waking up, energising up, I rebooted the poota, it having succumbed to short power cut, according to the marvellous materfamilias, about four this morning.

My visiting of three computer outlets yesterday, incidental to my visit to Mum’s to take her to the doctor yesterday, failed to find any with a PCI SATA controller card in stock, and this meant that I still did not have my main disk, with all my precious data, research, writing, and web site work of the last year or so, online (at home in my poota ‘online’). It occurred to me to refit the card that ‘failed’ Tuesday evening, on the off chance that it would work again; well, it damn well did, and voila! my terabyte disk came back online, with all my precious data! Silicon soothes in mysterious ways. I’m sure many of my billions of daily readers would appreciate what a relief that was. I next dutifully did some backing up of the most important of this data to another disk, my next oldest, an IDE 500 Gb mother (this is an old motherboard system, without built in firewire support).

After this dabbling in the internals among the metal, and then in the OS among the zeroes and ones, it was approaching two in the afternoon. The kindly kapitan set off to visit Meg Deeler, who is not faring well under her latest round of radiotherapy for her neck cancer, poor thing, with some gifts and a catch up, before calling at the Malaga Op Shop to drop off some bags of clothes and things we don’t need; this small act of charity possibly had some consequences that I’ll enlarge on later…

I embarked upon a gargantuan kitchen clean up which I had been stockpiling – the dishes and pots and pans and whatnot – in the bathroom like the archetypical male, having been too exhausted to get to it all these past two days what with working with Bob on Wednesday and spending the day helping Mum yesterday; eventually, after a couple of hours, I had it fairly spick and span.

A sickening thud down the street boded badly about a quarter to five, and what appeared to have happened was a motorbike travelling down the avenue hit a car turning into the side road not far from us. I heard no braking, which meant he – for it was a he – hit the car at full speed. A crowd was there in no time, and Janny was the first to call an ambulance, and the triple zero staffer advised her, on our cordless, of some basic measures to attend to for the fellow, who was in the middle of the road with blood trickling down the street; she managed to relay these first aid instructions to the helpers attending to him.

An ambulance arrived, sirenless, very quickly, for one was in our suburb or an adjacent one apparently, fortunately. What we think happened was the woman driver of the car had not seen the motor bike, for the sun is treacherous this time of day and year, shining directly and low into all traffic coming up the hill towards our place, which makes that corner a dangerous one to turn into at such times, as well as the fact that it is on a bend, making oncoming traffic down the hill invisible beyond about two hundred metres maximum.

The ambos worked on the young man on the road for almost three quarters of an hour it seemed, and the police blocked the street till well after 8 p.m. while they did their investigations. So our drive was blocked by a police car and several other vehicles crowded our verge while all this work was being done. And so The Babies Ink&Peggletter had to park some houses away when they arrived with Pa pree, for our scheduled dinner together. My habit, as with many others, when a accident or siren is heard, is to express to our Maker the desire that all goes well for the hurt and comfort for the sometimes bereaved.

Our street has had a few nasty crashes over the years, as well as violence, and the death of a child crossing the road with her mother at the hands of a speeding driver, and they’re just the ones we know about; life hangs by a thread, it is so precious… Janny learnt from one of the police later that this fellow will be okay, having smashed his legs up badly, but his torso and head appeared to have gotten off lightly, so that’s a positive. If the woman driver indeed couldn’t see well, or has some other mitigating circumstances, or even if it was pure carelessness or inattention, I’m nevertheless very sorry for her too, for she’ll be carrying a burden out of this.

The meal was delicious, despite a drama or two during its preparation: one part was almost burnt, causing a meltdown in my wife momentarily, and then the rice cooker gave up its ghost early in the cooking cycle, but all came up roses in the end.

Now what were those quinceconses I alluded to earlier repercussing from the opportunistic oligarch’s dropping off bags of things to the Malaga Op Shop? While based in Busselton for their week’s holiday last week, the little people bought up big at the Margaret River Chocolate Factory for a gift for The Babies, and Janny planned to give them a bag of goodies tonight. Well, after turning the house upside down, we could not find it; earlier today I loaded the car for Janny with a line of bags she had put in the passage for the Op Shop and had asked me to carry for her; said goodies were in a grey plastic shopping bag, as were many of the donation bags; I dutifully did as I was requested, carrying half a dozen bags at a time to the boot, and Janny put them, after her visit with Meg, into those big plastic wheelie bins at the Op Shop; we think the staff tomorrow if not already will have gay abandonment brown smudges all over their faces. The Babies took the news rather bravely, but might be crying their eyes out overnight.

I consoled my darling delinquent later after the visitors had departed, and mentioned what a minor thing it really is, and considering the bad day that motor bike rider had. The money spent on the choccies and other goodies was substantial for us, and Pa pree and Umple Dais had contributed also, but I pointed out that we’ll be laughing about the mix up soon, if that’s what’s happened (it would explain our inability to find the goodies in this small house).

After we had eaten the main course we played a new game – for Janny and me – with The Babies, called Skybridge, with Pa pree watching by choice, and we each won a game out of the four rounds we played; it was a lot more interesting than it might at first appear, and was fun.

I watched the remainder of That Mitchell and Webb Look when they left, and then caught Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales looked vibrant in an azure blue blouse, simple but very effective,

More story coming…


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