Sunday afternoon catching up

It’s a Bank Holiday weekend, no work for us tomorrow, but this Sunday evening still has that ‘back to school’ feel about it.

Fair enough.

I’m probably going to take Vin schooling somewhere tomorrow.

If it stops raining long enough!

Soph’s sitting over there writing something intellectual about Information.

I’ve been cutting experimental audio tracks and running them through Castblaster in an effort to try and recreate yesterday’s loop/echo.

And failing – in that experiment – to recreate yesterday’s ghostliness.

[shrugs]

I don’t know. We’ll have to see how next week’s recording comes out.

Extremely disheartened at such failure, I’ve taken to mundane technical activities.

I’ve backed up my old laptop, my new laptop and also backed up the half-terabyte external disc and all pen drives to another half-terabyte external disk.

Yeah, nerdy.

But if I was really nerdy I’d construct a RAID array with failover and…

Sorry.

Slipped in to work mode for a moment there.
Anyway.

Recognising that I need something else to do I’m now writing emails to people I used to be in close touch with.

Shane and Pete in Brixton.

Dr Gorgeous in the North West – just sent her a rambling yet hopefully amusing ‘how are you, what’s new?’ email.

Ian (also up there), I’ve sent him something far more down to earth and pithier.

Other, similar, emails in the pipeline.

Which is stupid really.

Why would you put emails in a pipeline?

OMG!

I’ve just seen our new neighbour walking past the lounge window.

Bleached blonde hair, skirt up to her armpits and breasts hanging out of the flimsiest top imaginable.

With two of her friends.

Attired in identical fashion.

Followed to the car by a guy – in jeans and a pink t-shirt.

We’re living next door to a sitcom.

Or perhaps they’re the straight act and we’re the sitcom?

Actually… I think that’s the scariest thought.

Or perhaps we’re in a social experiment.

Ooooh, talking of which.

Big Brother is back in a couple of weeks.

More people watching.

Excellent (Smithers)!

B.