Monday, July 31, 2006

courgettes

I like months with 31 days, on the whole. It affords a moment for pulling oneself together.

Not much knitting

I’m a couple of rows further forward with the Long Shawl, and that’s about it.

Helen’s husband David is here, in good form. Helen brought me my first two little courgettes of the season. Here they are, with Mungo on the left, Archie on the right, Fergus in the middle. It turns out that I don't know how to re-size a picture after all, and that two-in-one-post via Flickr doesn't work the way I hoped it would. Maybe I'll try Photobucket tomorrow.

Jamieson and Smith

Sue, in yesterday’s comment, and Helen (not sister), in an email, sent me this interesting link. It sounds as if the future is reasonably well secured. The remarks towards the end about Shetland sheep and the new farm subsidy scheme are particularly interesting.

Most if not all of my own Shetland-yarn-ordering in recent years has been from the other, plain-vanilla Jamieson.

Classical Mythology

The very attentive will remember that under my New Regime, I drink cider only on Sundays.

But every day, I toil on, getting my husband’s Magnum Opus into his Palm Pilot. The bulk of the work is done – I’m now re-doing eight files a day, of the one’s he’s recently revised. And when I finish re-doing them each day, I Hot Sync (as we say) with the Palm.

Sometimes it goes smoothly first time. Sometimes I get an error message saying that my computer (Windows XP) has found a device attached which it doesn’t recognise. Sometimes the Hot Sync fails half-way through. Sometimes it succeeds but the Palm needs to be re-set. Sometimes there is even a Fatal Error. (There’s plenty of room on the Palm still; could the difficulty be that so many hundreds of files are involved?)

What did this remind me of? I kept thinking of Hercules and Antaeus, but that didn’t seem entirely right. Antaeus was the one who needed to be in contact with mother earth, rather like me, and Hercules finally beat him by holding him above his head.

Yesterday, with cider fueling the synapses, I got it. Not Antaeus: Proteus. He was the one who kept changing form, but if you kept tight hold of him, eventually he answered your question.

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