0 smartarse remarks
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
I am trying
Blogger keeps doing whatever retarded not-working thing it's doing, otherwise there would be a new blog entry up here by now. This comment will probably also be cast into some netherweb limbo by Blogger's unfeeling palm, but I'm willing to keep at it until one of us cracks.
35 smartarse remarks
Apparently the problem may be related to the expiry of the otherleg domain name. I'll sit here patiently, until it all sorts itself out, I think. And then, per Andrew's advice, I may change to using Wordpress.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Work still busy and Blogger still acting up. Let me summarise
I’d been thinking that I could recap the multitude of events since my last blog entry one by one until I’d caught up, but of course at my usual rate of blog productivity, by the time I’ve finished that, I’ll be a couple of months behind again. Instead, I’ll cheat and summarise stuff, in no particular order of occurrence or significance:
- Tasmania - Fi and I went to Tasmania for two weeks, including Christmas, riding motorbikes (and one car) about the twisty mountain roads with Meagan, Kath and Hector, Soozie and Brenda and her two girls. It was a lot of fun, but kind of one of those hard-work holidays that represents a good solid break from work but is not particularly relaxing. Not that we were doing it any great pace – it was more “ride for a day, sightsee for a couple of days, ride to the next place” – but I was still worn out by the end.
- Xmas - Was celebrated in a small, well-appointed cottage on a sheep farm south of Devonport. It rained a lot and was bloody cold, but there was an activity room with a pool table and a spa and an extraordinary number of Xboxes and PlayStations, so who cares about the weather? Tragically, in the soon-to-be-traditional Christmas re-enactment of the 2002 Football World Cup, Argentina (Hector) repeatedly demolished England and Australia (me). I feel I would have stood more of a chance if the button used for aggressive tackles (or “fouls”) was not so easy to mash…
- The boat- We took the Spirit of Tasmania III from Sydney to Devonport. It’s comfortable enough, though I would make the following recommendations. 1: No matter how resistant you think you are to seasickness, chances are that after 22 hours of a swell that varies between non-existent and interesting, you may wish you’d packed some Dramamine. 2: Stump up the extra cash for a personal cabin, as the cheap bunk arrangements are only barely more comfortable than a hammock located in the bilge tanks.
- Back to work - Chaos, mayhem and human drama at work while I was away. Got back to discover there had been a major blow-up/falling out/resignation incident involving a key member of Project Porkpie. Apparently it became very heated and went from mild tension to serious wobbly in a very short and disorienting space of time. The outcome was very unfortunate and probably – well, possibly – avoidable. I certainly doubt that I would have contributed much to the sanity of the situation, although it’s possible it would have gone down differently if I’d been around. Given the clash of expectations and personalities involved, though, I guess I should be relieved it didn’t end up worse. I spent the first couple of days trying to get to the bottom of what happened and the next couple trying to placate sooth and otherwise reassure the skittish remnants of my team. Looks promising – I think the “shit happens” effect is starting to kick in and everyone is just getting on with things. But with one of the most inflammatory players back on deck tomorrow, there’s a chance that a few lingering problems could surface. Fun, huh?
- Mum - Has been visiting us for the past few days. Apparently there was enough left over from Dad’s keno winning’s last year to afford to put her on a plane to Canberra for her birthday. It’s been lovely having her (well, mostly she’s stayed with Ian and Sonnie, but close enough). We had dinner on Saturday – did the full regalia, crystal and all, served our favourite five-spice duck and finally nailed the vegetable accompaniment. Success all round. We’ll catch up with her again tomorrow, when cousins Steve and Jen will be visiting, and then she’s back hom on Wednesday. Our turn to visit her next, I suspect.
Friday, January 06, 2006
4 smartarse remarks
After planning to spend the day progressively filling in the past six or seven weeks in micro-blogs, Blogger seems to have stuffed that plan by completely crapping out. I've no idea when this entry will end up appearing. Sorry about that, in anticipation.
4 smartarse remarks
It’s a diverting enough exercise when there’s time to do it. For me, blogging serves a range of purposes, from straight diary-style recording of the day’s events, to capture and distribution of amusements and information, to passive and usually futile prompts for conversation on whatever topic happens to be bugging me, to uninformed and usually unwarranted complaints and/or rants railing against the iniquities of life or At least the irritant of the moment.
I sometimes forget that for several people, it’s also the only source of information on whether I am, in fact, alive. The art of regular correspondence being a dead one, as far as I’m usually concerned, the sole reassurance that many of my scattered friends and colleagues have of my ongoing corporeality is the (very occasional) reward they get for going to the effort of clicking on that Lexifabricographer link in their bookmarks.
So for the surprising number (i.e. more than one) of correspondents who enquired after my health, having noted the unprecedented lack of blogging in recent epochs, thank you kindly for your well wishes and rest assured that all is well and I am still of this mortal coil.
I am, of course, still quite lazy.
Since the end of the holidays, it has by turns been either too hot to want to bother with typing or too dramatic to spare the time for catching up. I’ll try to fill in some of the details over the course of today, so expect lots of little snippets rather than the usual mass of semi-organised information. Or amusement. Whichever.