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Last Updated : Sunday, 17 November, 2002 at 8:35 PM -0600
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| Daynotes On a Budget Hosted By... Last Updated : Sunday, 17 November, 2002 at 8:35 PM -0600 |
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Monday, November 11, 2002 |
Veterans Day
Sent out a couple of E-mails this morning. Thanking a few fellows (and ladies) I know for helping us here out of whatever jam we were in when they were serving in the armed forces. And I flew the flag. Now that we have a flagpole of our own, it seems only fitting that I decorate it on those days which I find important. Today is one of them.
Job Hunt
Heard some disturbing statistics today. The economy seems to be recovering, but there aren't any jobs being added so far. Which means people like myself are still looking.
I guess what's the most frustrating is that I really do love working with computers and with the people that use them. My "consulting" business is slowly growing into something that might feed a rat or three in a couple of months - since it will need to feed more than that, well, I'm still "building my business".
The medium-moderate range plans include a possible veer in the career path, into a field I know a little about - as a project manager type. It's a field with it's own project manager certification, but I've talked to some people in it and think that a PMI certification might help. As it's also highly valuable and industry-generic, it might be a very good thing to have, along with, say, A+ and Network+ certifications.
I know, I know. It just helps some mornings to have a plan to build on.
Other than that, it's been a day.
A Couple Of Updates
Tires: Yes, thanks to all nine of you now who've written in - I will most definitely notify any nice folks who would be re-mounting my tires, or replacing them, for that matter. There's only a few folk in this world I wouldn't tell, and they all work for the same dealership, if you know what I mean.
Counter: Yup, I know, my page-hit counter and Ann's are both on the fritz. The Ultimate Counter place that I have used counters from for about ... Oh, I dunno, seven or eight years now, and I'll give them until Wednesday. If he's still down, I'll hunt me down a new counter...
That's all for now. Should I not post past tomorrow, seek my dead body under the pool my wife will be putting in our back yard. Trust me, it'll be there...
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Tuesday, November 12, 2002 |
Pool References
Those of you, like Mr. Ricketson, concerned that my wife has gone completely off her nut when it comes to putting in an in-ground pool in November in Minnesota need never fear. The short version of the story is that we have agreed, watching several friends and acquaintences go through divorce, that should that ever become a necessity between Ann and I, she would merely be adding an in-ground pool to the yard. And I? I would be in the foundation of said pool. Much, much cheaper than divorce - emotionally and financially. Trust me on this one.
And for those who fear we do swim outside at this time of year - no, not yet. There's a fairly large contingent of undiagnosed mental cases of all stripes who take an annual plunge in speedos as early in the year as possible - each calendar year. Now, if you work that out to dawn on the first day of January, well, you're right. I'm thinking most of these people are made of far sterner stuff than I.
Of Course...
Of course the weather would leave the pond glass-smooth this morning. Of course the pond would be fringed with ice. Of course, the ice would have a bridge, mimicing the bridge across the pond. Of course, big Canada geese would be slowly wandering the open water at the OTHER end of the pond.
And OF COURSE The Critical Need Detector in the camera would go off, telling the batteries to die. Feh. Rats. Figures.
Quoth The Wife
Started two batches of chili this afternoon. Chopped two large onions. One in each pot. Browned two pounds of ground beef. First batch got spike (salt and other spices), and Three Whole Shakes of chili powder. Added to the pot with the onions, a tablespoon of chopped garlic, a 29-ounce can of tomato sauce, a 16-ounce can of diced tomatos and roasted garlic, one 29-ounce can of water, two 16-ounce cans of kidney beans, one 16-ounce can of chili beans. And that's it.
Second batch got chili powder, cayenne. Pot with the onions in it also got a can of Chipolte peppers. Same 29-ounce can of tomato sauce, half the amount of water. One can kidney beans, two cans chili beans, one can black beans. One pouch of Carroll Shelby's Texas Chili seasoning. Simmer both. Stir with different spoons.
I told Ann "Chili for dinner" and she said "well, you do cook Chili very well." Right. Like the stuff she eats has a right to be called "Chili". It's more properly "soup".
Oh well. Two large pots like this should last a while. One for them, one for me...
P.I.T.A.
Well, that's what I'd call it.
Started with a client's computer. It wouldn't boot, wouldn't play nice, did nada. Bupkus. So I said I'd see what I could do. Brought it home, opened it up, and ... well, found an Athalon processor. Now, this is not a big problem, unless you're told "My hand to God, it's Intel". I've nothing against AMD, but in my experience, in the business world, there's Intel and then there's "the other folk" and while there's nothing wrong with the other folk, when the difference between the two is slight ($20-50), then go with the name, not the off-brand. If it's 10% or less of the cost, why go for grief?
So anyway, after doing everything but tossing the thing into a mosh pit, I determined scientifically that the motherboard was dead (well, the power supply fires up, it works with other motherboards, and the motherboard doesn't even respond with beep codes or ANYTHING. No lights, no sound, no nothing. When that motherboard is in the machine, the power supply won't even kick over. I even borrowed the "identical system" ("Oh, yeah, that one might be twin to this one..."). Swapped pieces one at a time. And determined that the motherboard is the only piece nothing else works with.
Then the fun started. The client limited me to a single vendor, and then said "well, I've got Processors A, B, C, and D sitting on the shelf." Ruling out A and B as Pentium IIs or Celerons helped. C was an older K6 chip, also difficult to get a motherboard from "The Vendor" to match. D was a 500 Mhz P3, motherboards were not available to work with that, either.
So, after this amount of time, I go back to the client, and point out this. I convince him that a motherboard/CPU combo would work. Find a combo - my first oops. Picked a motherboard with RAMBUS RAM - bad, bad juju. Caught it before I made it my final recommendation. Found a genuine Intel mobo and processor, and recommended that (cheaper than the client's suggested motherboard/cpu combo, faster too). One problem. It uses 184 pin DIMMS, and he's got a boatload of 168-pin. Back to the drawing board. Good thing this is a "billable hours" deal, rather than a one-priced-project deal.
My Apologies
Apparently, I've angered, enraged, taunted, or otherwise disturbed two ladies of varying emotional strength with my discussions of chili. Both are working down Mommy-hood lane - one from Been-there-done-that street, and the other from "I'm gonna get there if it kills him" corner.
In order to ... allieviate concerns while not further ... antagonizing said persons, let me just state that the chili was a qualified success. SWMBO and Junior Putt-Putt loved it. I, with my own "special blend" enjoyed it as well (and find it a good thing that I need not go out in public for several days now, given the bean intake in my batch), and The Princess found her tastebuds most offended, which she then appeased with a baloney and cheese (and mayonaise) sandwich. On wheat.
So, a good time was had by all... Tomorrow will be another story entirely.
But this, too, shall pass. Like an ill wind. And I'll stop here before the nasty old cliches turn into chili jokes (say that five times fast with a burnt tongue, and you just haven't had enough beer yet - then again, it's only tuesday).
Off to beat Junior Putt-Putt for noise ordinance violations. The Lady of The House has gone to bed early, leaving me to play the role of Terminator. He still does not understand (or chooses not to comprehend) that I mean it when I say "I'll Be Back."
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Wednesday, November 13, 2002 |
Good Morning
Brrrr... Pardon me for a moment whilst I clear the snotsicles from my mustache. Yes, SNOTSICLES. The best word I've ever heard (or perhaps invented, I dunno) for describing that accumulated "gunk" (further descriptions would be ... excessive. Especially in view of last night's concert of bodily functions around here. Jack had chili, and takes after his father. Rhiannon is coming down with a cough/cold, Ann felt like crap, and I? Well, let's just say that there was no voluntary blanket-fluffing last night. All involuntary) that occurs when one spends time outdoors in the cold.
Yeah, COLD. We here on the fringe of the urban heat island must have dropped to near the teens (still above, thank Buddha, etc), which obviously irritated the geese.
Yup, Geese. They were on the grass while I was walking into the park, and then took wing and landed on the water - which was frozen. Yes, frozen. We here on the tundra do spent at least a few months every year walking on water - it's no miracle for us. For some of you folks in warmer climes, perhaps you're not blessed with the angelic dispositions and great fortitudes of faith we are here in the more challenging regions of the globe. So yes, we do walk on water.
Though I don't half wonder how long it will be before the first fatality of the season occurs. You see, there are those amongst us who believe they are blessed with an abundance of angelic disposition, and great, boundless, overflowing lockers of faith - and test the water far, far too early in the season. As I learned as a Boy Scout...
One inch, no way
Two inches, one may
Three inches, OK
Four inches, go Play!
The "OK" at the end of the third line is spoken dubiously, as in "well, be careful". Though it occurs that if one reads the above with a slightly ... off-color mind, one might find another use for said poem.
And for those of us who insist on taking the sunday drive lakeside, I definitely think eight inches might be a bit ... thin yet. Then again, it all depends on your insurance and your perspective. If you're above the ice, it's a good thing. However, beware. While most lakes can have uniform thicknesses, rivers tend to have thin spots over the faster channels, and if you go across those in a vehicle, you'll find yourself sinking faster than Martha Stewart's stock price.
Let's see. Where was I? Snotsicles, cold, ice, geese... Yeah. I would have gotten a picture of those beautiful geese (beautiful in the sense that they no longer leave giant turds near my car like flying cattle) coming in for a landing and skittering on the ice if it hadn't been for the well-intentioned gentleman who ran - well, walked - me down in the park.
You see, I tend to go there for quiet and solace and peace. This gentleman came up and started in with the "hey, you're walking, that's great. I lost sixty pounds last year doing this."
Sheesh. Oh well. "Hey, Thanks!" So we chatted a while, and then I got back to picture-taking...
And some of the geese were in, and some out, of the water. Brrrrr... I think I'm starting to get an idea of why duck and goose are rather greasy meats. Chickens don't put their butts in the water, thus they don't tend to need the insulation... Well, Duh.
Billing
My biggest consulting client pays on a 15/30 cycle, which, conveniently, is how I send him my bills. I've got to come up with a better solution, though, than what I've got. I think what I need to do is go spend money on software - like as in Good Old Filemaker Pro. Access would work, but Access is crap as far as databases go. I understand FmP intuitively. It's like putting on comfy shoes. It just works. Oh well.
What really REALLY Sucks is that I had an old NFR copy of both Mac and PC with the serial number a couple years ago - then the serial number sticker floated off into the ether. Since it was NFR, and since it was unregistered, there's no way to replace that. Oh well. Such is life.
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Thursday, November 14, 2002 |
Torture, I tell ya...
Every morning I take Ann to her bus stop. Sometimes we get very, very fortunate, and make the Burnsville Transit station. Otherwise, we head over towards Eagan.
On the way back, we pass one of those "strip warehouse" type buildings (looks like a non-descript strip mall, except it's warehouses), and on the front of part of it is the name Leann Chin. Leann's is a chinese fast-food place here locally that does very good food (well, the kind I like - like their Princess Chicken. Not quite spicy enough, but it's got enough burn to make it interesting).
Without fail, every morning, they're cooking something up there to be delivered to the restaurants locally. And I can't help but drool on myself in anticipation. Of course, we go there very rarely. At $40 for a family of four, it's not the cheapest dinner around, and Ann prefers a higher vegetable content in her chinese. But it's good.
'Scuse me while I change my shirt...
Too Stupid To Live
I was talking to a friend of mine today, asking him to review a resume I was crafting for a specific opportunity. "Well, it doesn't look too specific." "Hmmm. I bet I attached the file before I saved. That might have been it." Saved, reattached the file, resent. "Hey, this is just like the last one!"
Then I remembered. I'd sent the resume to Ann for her input, and she'd e-mailed it back. When you open the file directly from an e-mail, Outlook (and Outlook Express) will open the file in a temporary location. Any work you do, including saving, is in the temporary location. I'd been sending him the original "great ruddy boatload of crap" resume instead of the "carefully crafted first draft final" resume.
I'd plead youth and inexperience, combined with long years of faithful service, but I've used that. So instead I plead several weeks of up-late-awake-too-long-staring-at-the-ceiling-up-earlys. Hey, it provides an excuse for the stupidity and will soon gain me a whole new set of luggage...
These bags below my eyes, I mean.
Triple-Double-Red-Letter-Day
Went to the mailbox yesterday, and could barely get my hand in. A Target catalog, a woodworker's store catalog, a Rockler catalog, a Northern Handyman catalog - all in the same day. I feel like a hog in a wallow...
Dodging the BLF
That would be Bad Luck Fairy.
Today, in making Jack's lunch, I settled down to empty the dishwasher. And found to my great surprise and disappointment that it was still full of water. Which is "Not A Good Thing" in my world. So, I removed the bottom rack, and started scooping water. The futility of this became apparent after four scoops - there was too much water, and I was getting perhaps a quarter-cup at a time.
Rather than look for a better scoop, the brain kicked in. I went into my "sneaky box" - the one Ann's been trying to throw out for years - and grabbed a reel of vinyl hose. Well, it's about 25 feet of the stuff - inside diameter slightly smaller than a pencil, outside diameter smaller than a dime. Good, heavy stuff. Ten years old, still very flexible, no cracks. A bit yellowed, that's all.
I hacked off about a two-foot length, stuck it down as deep as I could get it in the dishwasher, and put a bowl on the floor below. Sucked twice on the hose, then watched. Jack was fascinated, because it drained in about five minutes.
Dug around underneath the rotor, and found the offending item (a label which had come off a jar and plugged the drain without disintegrating), and I'm re-washing stuff now. There are days when I look downright intelligent, I swear...
Santa
Ann and I every year try to take the kids out before Christmas to see Santa Claus. Santa is usually located near a drop-box for Toys for Tots. Right now, my children still believe in Santa Claus, though I think Rhiannon might be getting suspicious.
Every year, we go out and pick a toy that Rhiannon or Jack would like, and put it into the Toys for Tots drive. We tell the kids that sometimes, Santa needs help. And they can help Santa. Some years, the kids get the same toy under the tree (deliberate on Santa's part), and some years they don't. Depends on their tastes and desires and our budget.
So my children understand that Santa frequently gets assistance from others. Sometimes they help, too. And sometimes, Santa comes around when you least expect him. Last night, Santa got assistance from someone else, who read my whine about Filemaker Pro.
I guess this is one of those times when I have to learn to say "Thank You." Small things is easy. Big things, I'm trained to do big things back. In this case, I'm going to do big things forward, instead. Like, for example, NOT pulling down my pants and sliding on the ice - at least until it's a great deal thicker... 
Best Part Of The Day
You know, it didn't really hit me until this week, but I LIKE being home when Rhiannon gets off the bus. This is something that I wouldn't have had a chance to do had I been working these last months.
And my daughter loves the bus. She gets off it every day, and without fail, runs out in front of the bus, well ahead of the hood-created blind spot. She watches as the driver checks the traffic one more time, then signals her to cross. She hums her way across, and hits me with all the force a sixty-pound third-grader can.
Our conversations, always routine, are never boring. I ask usually three or four questions. "How was your day?" "What was the funnest part?" "Did you have a good time?" and "Did you lose any cards?"
The last, of course, is in reference to psycho-teacher's method of "motivation". The classroom rules, which are no less arcane, wordy, convoluted, and arbitrary than parlimentary procedures as applied to the United States Congress, are monitored and deviations are punished by the loss of a card. None of this wimpy "Yellow Card/Red Card" crap, but a three-card system. Green, Yellow, and Red, apparently.
The kids start Monday with all three cards. If they break a classroom rule, they are supposed to receive a warning, and then lose a card. At the end of the week, children with cards left have "free time". The others have worksheets to do, or something similar.
Those kids who lose all their cards prior to the end of the week also lose recesses - if they stray again from the straight and narrow.
After a few initial rough weeks, Rhiannon regularly finishes the week with at least two cards. Sometimes all three. Which is fine by me. And good practice for her. Throughout her life, she will frequently run into rules which are irrational, illogical, arbitrary, and fairly stupid. She'll now have a referent for them. And know how to survive.
Once I go back to work, the kids will be back in some form of Daycare. And I'll miss Rhiannon getting off the bus. Oh well. It's been fun while it lasted.
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Friday, November 15, 2002 Happy Birthday, Jack! |
Welcome to Lunacy, The Home Game
Yesterday's cluster-mingling started at four. Rhiannon got off the bus, ran into the house, and changed. We turned to, hit the car running, and headed off to get Ann from the bus stop. Back across Burnsville, where we stopped for a quick bite, which turned into very, very slow service, and the prices had gone up about 20%. So much for that option. Then off to drop Rhiannon at Basketball practice. Back home to get the "Other" coupons (stupid dad), back to the school to get Rhiannon from practice, off to the grocery store to do grocery shopping, and would you believe we got home, got the car unloaded, and the garbage out all before Jack's bedtime (8:30 pm)?
Me either. It's a good life, if you remain strong, as Dr. Pournelle says. Or, as I like to say, insane.
This morning continues in much the same vein. Or artery, whichever.
The kids hop the bus this morning (Ann's already on her way to work), and that will be my cue to depart for points eastward - specifically Toys "R" Us and Target for clothes and a toy or two. The toy range this kid is looking at this year is ... well, bloody expensive. Ann selected a number of toys from the toy catalog in the $30 range. I think that's a bit high, myself, but we'll see.
After I complete my mission (one I have no choice but to accept), I turn around, pick Jack up from school, and take him out for lunch at his favorite restaurant - Burger King. I will, I promise, try mightily to stay away from their onion rings. But frankly, their fries taste like crap, so it's going to be difficult. If I eat onion rings, however, I'm going to be sleeping in a tent for most of the weekend, so there are certain considerations there (have I mentioned that we've now dipped below twenty above twice this week for overnight lows? We're used to cold here - just not this quickly).
Anyway, let him run off some energy in the play area there, come home, put him in front of the idiot box, get the gifts in and wrapped, and then get Rhiannon, Ann, and have dinner at home.
Tomorrow morning Rhiannon has basketball, with pictures beforehand. The unpleasant part is that the game has been moved. To where, we do not know. We'll find out today. We hope. Then, at some point this weekend, we'll also hit the big-screen version of Star Wars. My son watching a fifty-foot Yoda - that's going to be fun.
Off like a herd of ... well, whatevers. Later, maybe...
And after that, I got things wrapped, ready to go, took him to Burger King for almost an hour and a half of monkey-time in the playground, then home, and then his sister came home, out to get mom, back home, out for sub sandwiches, back home for presents (he was thrilled), and finally, him off to bed.
And I'm building my contacts/billing database application in Filemaker Pro, so things will likely be short-shrift here for a while... TTFN...
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Saturday, November 16, 2002 |
A Ruined Man
Some months back, we went and saw Star Wars Episode II, Attack of the Clones, in the regular theater. Our seats were off to the right (as one looks at the screen) and right smack-dab in front of a, say, 16x30 foot screen.
Good Lord, I've been ruined. First, the facts. The IMax Theater at the Minnesota Zoo has some 500 or so seats. Of those, I would deem about 300 or so "good" - middle, height-wise. Middle, width-wise. All views are unobstructed, provided you're not sitting behind a Camanoan (yes, a Star Wars Ep. II reference). Each seat is about two feet above the previous row. Works for me...
So today, we went to see the IMax version of the movie. First, I'll cover the bad parts.
Some half-wit scheduled the fine film "Santa Vs. The Snowman (in 3-D)" for the same running weeks as Star Wars - it looks like a riot, but what was more frustrating was the crowd. About 300 people waiting to get into that when we got there at 1:30 pm for the 2:30 pm showing.
Quoth Ann, "It's too damned loud." Well, I should say perhaps. Possibly. But any theater I go to and my pant-legs shake because of the subwoofer (12,000 WATTS - yes, that's right - of audio power) is worth seeing again.
The wait was ... interminable. We bought our tickets, ran down, renewed the Zoo membership (a nice place to take the kids for a long walk when the neighborhood is right out, and it did end up getting one of the kids in practically for free - the regular price for us would have been $40 - $11 for adults, $9 for kids, but with the zoo discount, we paid only $32. Since a single visit to the zoo was $30 for our family, it's worth it. Two trips covers the admission price, and we get out there four or five times a year), then had to wait while a medical emergency was removed from the theater. Which put them even further behind.
I got into line at about 2:50 pm, and I was about the 30th person. Of course, since 50% of the people in front of me were Borg-like (you know, "One of Five"), the line grew. Ann dragged Rhiannon and Jack into line about 2:10 because the lobby was filling rapidly, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to move through the line. At about 2:15, they re-arranged the ropes, and moved us through the maze like rats in search of cheese. Where we waited until about 2:35. Then they opened the doors.
They also help you a little with perspective. For example, when you first come in, they're showing slides of upcoming features, and the slides are projected on the screen in roughly the standard size of a regular (today) movie screen.
However, once the lady finished with the introduction ("our screen is six stories high and is backed with over 12,000 watts of sound. Because of the size of the screen and the audio track, you might find yourself becoming overwhelmed and experiencing disorientation, especially during scenes which involve flight or violent maneuvering. If you do, close your eyes, and the feeling will pass...") the REAL previews started.
The Santa Vs. The Snowman preview looked rather humorous. Especially when run just before a Star Wars movie - the snowmen apparently use igloos on legs, much like the smaller snow-walkers in Empire Strikes Back. Of course, the elves ride jet-powered reindeer, and their attack method is to fire self-driving ice picks. Well, the ice-pick strikes the side of the igloo, and from the handle, out pops an articulated mallet, which starts rapping the handle of the ice-pick deeper into the igloo... And yeah, you guessed it. Crushed ice.
Then, there was a brief blurb for the feature coming in February 2003 - Space Station. I think Jack and I will be there.
Following that (I know, I know, I'm getting to it) was a promotion for Disney's Lion King Imax version. Wow. That looks spectacular, though I dunno if the thought of Puumba's hind parts six stories high is a good idea (come to think of it, the subwoofer portion of the audio track during Puumba's on-screen appearances might get an extreme work-out).
Anyway, after that was the little IMax promo bit - starts with a space-shuttle lift-off, and you're about a hundred yards from the tower, it feels like, and ends with a Michael Jordan dunk - so the ending wasn't so good, but the rest of it was, they started the movie.
Rhiannon had to come back down from the ceiling after the first notes of the theme, and then we got quickly overwhelmed.
I do have to warn you (as I was warned, Thanks, Ken), they've chopped out some bits. Not, of course, Natalie Portman's four-story leather bustier, as she's trying to talk Hayden Christiansen out of falling in love with her (sorry - at his age, or his character's age, there's a hormonal imbalance that starts about 12 and lasts until the male of the species is ... well, I'll let you know). Right. Always works. But there was some exposition and some scenes which were lost - not that I was complaining too much. Though I did notice Jimmy Smits in the final scene and said "oh, yeah, he was supposed to be in the movie".
The movie wasn't cut to be mean or remove content - far from it. They had to make allowances for the IMax technology. After all, the print of the movie is in one long strip, NOT in a couple of reels. Given the size of the negative (it's a 70mm, but appears to be about six times the size of a regular 35mm film shot), it's understandable that a single print of the movie would be somewhat unwieldy. However, at nearly five feet across, and almost four hundred pounds, that's a serious, SERIOUS load.
The folks at IMax are working on upgrades to allow for 150-minute movies in the future, which means larger platters for the film. But given the fact that the projectors themselves weigh over two tons, there's no such thing as a "small" upgrade. Not when you're dealing with 15,000 watt xenon bulbs and the like.
The large screen was a problem for a few shots. Specifically those combining digital and live-action elements. For example, in a few shots of Mace Windu in the Jedi Arena battle, I noticed one of his pant legs flickering ever so slightly along one edge. And I could tell the difference in lighting on Yoda. I couldn't tell you exactly how - perhaps the tint of his skin under the light should have been slightly different, I don't know, but it seemed just a tiny hair off. Or, like the phrase I heard the other day, "finer than frog hair."
But all of that's just quibbling. The Jedi Arena scenes were overwhelming - as were the flight sequences. The car-chase sequence while Obi-Wan and Anakin are on Coruscant guarding Amidala were about enough to have me ready to jump out of my seat - there were quite a few times I was looking for the stick to pull up, Pull Up, PULL UP, PULL UP DAMNIT!.
Sorry - but yeah, it was that good.
Which helped to alieviate other rough patches in the day. Like being 10 minutes late for basketball, because at the corner where I was sure I should turn, She Who Must Be Obeyed said "What are you doing? This isn't it." So I pulled out of the right turn lane and back into traffic (no, there was a big gap, I wasn't a traffic hazard). Fifteen minutes later I arrived at the place, after making a left turn down that previously-nearly-turned-street, and arrived at the destination. Sheesh.
Or the zipper which broke on my coat. Mind you, the coat wasn't new when Jack was born six years ago, so I suppose a $40 coat that's lasted me every cold day of the past seven years (at least) should not be sneezed at.
No, it's not a case of replacing the zipper. The lining's thinned, the pockets are shredded, and the coat's just not worth the effort. Besides, it was the pull-tab which broke off. Not easy to replace, nor worth it.
And we won't even talk about Rhiannon's basketball game. At least she had fun.
Now, back to database construction...
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Sunday, November 17, 2002 |
Phew
A "Short And Easy" day turned into ...
I suppose I could be forgiven for being totally wiped out on top of yesterday's long day of shopping and running and Friday's day of running and Thursday night's runaround. But that don't pay the bills - nor the piper or various other shrieking nitwits. So it goes.
Of course, I've got a pile of work before me, so no rest for the weary...
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