September 2003 in New York through the eyes of an Englishman -  Contact  Current Month  Previous  Next  Index  Software


An English country pub

An English country pub

29/9/2003 - More Jetlag

The picture doesn't have much to do with the day. It's a pub on the edge of Ilkley Moor. Ilkley Moor has the distinction of being the subject of Yorkshire's de-facto county anthem - "On Ilkla moor bah't att", which in rough translation means "On Ilkley moor without a hat". Maybe I'll regale you with that later.

I barely slept - don't really know why, I was tired enough. But thanks to phone calls from my sister Julie, and from Rachel, I got up at 5:30am, and was off toward Manchester for the flight back by 6:00am. I tried a new route, up "the twines" from Bingley, through Denholme and Halifax, and then picking up the M62. I arrived quite early, took the hire car back, and sat and waited. Once again the flight was a pretty quick one, and I was back into Newark by 12:00pm. The bus and subway weren't bad either, so I was home by 1:30pm.

Romeo was there, half way through moving his stuff into the apartment. Terry seemed glad to see me back, which was comforting, and I went to bed early, having effectively been up since 12:30 am.

There'll be no more this month - it's back to work tomorrow. I may or may not start on October before we go to Bangalore - likely not. It also may take me a while to get connected, so be prepared for a break until half way through October. Then I'll start to tell you about a different country in a different continent.

Swinsty reservoir - a favorite walking spot

Swinsty reservoir - a favorite walking spot

The Royal Baths - Wetherspoons and Revolution inside

The Royal Baths - Wetherspoons and Revolution inside

Harrogate's South Stray

Harrogate's South Stray

28/9/2003 - My Poor Head

That was definitely a mistake. When everyone had decided it was time to go home, I got to go to sleep on the sofa bed. Of course, given that there was nobody there to turn me over, I immediately went to sleep on my back, and no doubt snored like a pig all night - sorry folks. I know I did, because in addition to a monstrous hangover, I had a sore throat in the morning. I got up at about 11:30am. Richard was already up and about, and he made me another bacon sandwich, this time the whole thing, complete with the fried tomatoes, and lots of black coffee. I didn't have much to say for myself.

Leo and Steve were supposed to catch a train back to London at 1:00pm, so I did my best to wake them. It took a while, and when they eventually did appear it turned out that Leo had built in half an hour, otherwise they wouldn't have made it. I drove them to the station and said goodbye, very aware that I might not see either of them again for a couple of years. But then, that's freedom!

After I'd dropped them at the station, I drove gingerly out of Harrogate to look for some countryside to show you. It's a beautiful area. I always say if I could move it to just the other side of the Hudson River, I could make a fortune. The sky was magnificent, patches of blue, and big cumulus clouds with the occasional 5 minute shower. There were several rainbows, but those things are difficult to photograph. I've picked my selection - you'll form your own impression.

I should probably comment on the Stray. Sometime back in the 19th century, areas of Harrogate were put aside as common land by the British Parliament. They can't be used for anything else unless the law of the land is changed. So the citizens of Harrogate have this gratuitous 100 acres of grassland surrounding the town centre that nobody can develop. OK, it puts up the taxes, because it needs to be kept in shape, but otherwise, it's their communal back yard. None of those notices about closing at dusk either. It's your right to go there and do as you please any time you like.

When I'd had enough I went back and said goodbye to Richard and Cathy, and drove the 20 miles south back to Airedale, and my mother's house. I phoned my sister, who I've barely spoken to in 20 years or longer, and arranged to meet her and her husband at the Sun Inn in Cottingley, the village where I spent my childhood. I got there first, and wasn't impressed. So when Julie arrived we drove into Bingley, the local town, and descended on the "Old Fire Station". Literally that - they've converted the fire station into a pub (is anything spared you may ask). I had a long. Julie's husband Andrew has been diabetic for years, and has suffered for it. He recently lost a leg below the knee, and is now wheelchair bound. The new pub is built to current standards, and easy for him to get in. It's quite trendy for Bingley, which was never what you'd consider to be a fashionable spot. Sorry about the poor photo.

When I got back, mum had made me something to eat, which was by then welcome. However I'd promised to go back to see Rachel, so when I'd eaten I walked round there. Dave had gone out to the pub - his first time out since the baby, so we just sat together and played with Eleanor, and said very little. 'Twas good. Probably by the next time I see her, she'll be walking!

I went back to mum's, and was tired, but for some reason I could not get to sleep.
Wharfedale

Wharfedale
Dick Hudsons - a country pub

Dick Hudsons - a country pub
Me with Eleanor

Me with Eleanor

A moorhen

Sorry, not quite quick enough

The river by my Mother's house

The river by my Mother's house

Eleanor fed and dressed

Eleanor fed and dressed

Leo and Steve walking into town

Leo and Steve walking into town

Redneck night at the Blues Bar

Redneck night at the Blues Bar

26-27/9/2003 - Red Eye

This weekend I'd promised Rachel I'd do a flying visit to England to see the new baby. Leo had also promised to travel up from London with her new fella, and Richard and Cathy were going to be around, even if busy.

The way the travel to western Europe works is that you fly out at about 8:30 in the evening, usually these days on one of the big two-engine jets. The overnight flight is foreshortened by the time difference, so it's next morning before you know where you are. As a result I usually get about two hours fitful snooze, and arrive there feeling like I've done an all-nighter.

Today the flight was particularly quick - under six hours. We got into Manchester (that's about half way up on the left) at about 7:50am, and I was through passport control and customs by 8:00, and picking up a hire car. I drove round the M60 outer ring road, and took the M52 over the sandstone moors to Bradford. The M62 is the highest motorway (freeway) in England - about 1200 feet above sea level at its highest point. I snook round Bradford to the north-west, and arrived at Rachel's at about 9:30am. Eleanor had kept her up most of the night, so she was initially a little tearful, but once we'd got the day planned out, and consumed a bacon sandwich each she was fine.

While Eleanor got fed and bathed, I walked round to my Mother's house on the other side of the river. The moorhen appeared out of nowhere, and the Olympus doesn't react quite quickly enough unless you've already got it open and zoomed to somewhere close. I arranged with Mum to stay there the following night (i.e. Sunday). It would be a good jumping-off point for me to get back to Manchester Airport, and I knew she'd like it.

I was to take Rachel and Eleanor to Harrogate for a family gathering. But before we set off, we popped into Bradford to see Dave (Rachel's husband) at his new job. Dave's thing in life is motor bikes. He loves to ride them, tinker with them, probably to inhale them. His relatively recent new job is as service manager for a Suzuki dealership. It's definitely a case of a pig in shit! He's the strong silent type, and I'm sure he'll make an excellent manager because everyone will be damn clear that when he's told you how you should do something, that should be the end of the conversation. When we arrived he was driving some monstrously powerful bike round the car park to return it to a customer. The air of authority was tangible. IMHO Eleanor looks like Dave.

Eleanor has the customary baby attitude toward travel. It's fine as long as the motion and the gentle vibration last. We got to Richard's without a peep from her. He was working. His job at the moment is clearly a pain in the arse. But he soon either finished, or pretended he had. He's just bought himself a snazzy new Marshal amp for his guitar, so he stowed the laptop, and picked up the guitar. It's work in progress, but easy to listen to, and obviously therapeutic.

Leo, and her new man Steve (you can never have too many!) had arrived the night before, and surfaced just after we arrived. Cathy was out riding her horse, and was the last to arrive. She's been working for years to build a business in the wedding industry - Yorkshire Brides - and this year may be in with a good chance of it being profitable. Her major event of the year is next weekend, so I was majorly flattered that she was cool and welcoming.

When we'd all got sorted, we went into the town centre to a tapas bar, and had a late lunch. There were too many of us for one vehicle, so I walked with Leo and Steve, and he got a quick family history tutorial on the way. My first stop was to change some dollars into pounds, which was a traumatic experience. The pound is strong at the moment, and my dollars got almost halved. England isn't cheap, and Harrogate certainly isn't, so in spending power terms it was like having my $200 swapped for $100. After tapas, everybody else went clothes shopping. I didn't feel the need - I hope to do better in Bangalore - so I walked down to the Blues Bar and had a couple of pints of the local bitter.

Richard and Cathy had a prior dinner appointment, and it involved Richard in picking some people up from Rawdon, back the way Rachel and I had come, so Richard took Rachel and Eleanor home. Come supper time I'd developed a craving for fish and chips - there's really no substitute for the real thing. So Leo, Steve and I went to Gravely's, and did the traditional Yorkshire thing. I had jumbo haddock, chips, and mushy peas - a real treat.

After that, we walked down to the Blues Bar. They usually have a band on every night of the week. Tonight's sample wasn't bad, but not Leo and Steve's taste, so we moved off down Parliament Street to look at the fleshpots. The latest chain pub is Wetherspoons. Their basic premise is low drink prices, and they've taken over the large ballroom/concert hall that was the main assembly room of Harrogate's victorian baths complex, and made it into a bar. The place is enormous, and it was absolutely jammed with an age range from 16 to 60 (well, 61 actually). I tried to take a picture that would give you a feel for the scale of the place, but to do that right I'd have needed wings. Of course, the British licensing laws being what they are, the place emptied dramatically at about 11:10. But it was impressive while it lasted.

By this time, Richard and Cathy were back, with a couple of their guests. To drink later, you just walk out of the back of Wetherspoons, across the rather swish terrace, and into Revolution - also housed in part of the Royal Baths complex which might once have been the Turkish baths. The only difference is that the drinks are more expensive.

I was just about stalled by this point. The red-eye trip had caught up with me. Nobody else was that determined either, so after half an hour or so, we got a taxi up to Richard's place. I was sleeping on the sofa bed, so I was obliged to get a second wind, since that wasn't going to be a viable sleeping spot until everyone left. So to compound the fact that I'd been drinking relatively strong British beer like it was Budweiser, I then proceeded to drink red wine. I was wrecked!

Wetherspoons - victoriana transformed

Wetherspoons - victoriana transformed

Revolution

Revolution
>

22-25/9/2003 - Work - Business as Usual

Well, we had a two-day presentation/course on Monday and Tuesday. The first day was OK, but for some reason, the presenter used the word effectively twice in every sentence on the second day. Maybe he did the first day too, but I guess we didn't really notice until Tuesday. The effect was, to say the least, mildly distressing.

The rest of the week was pretty normal. I spent most of the time reading up on what we'd been taught.

Street game

Street game

21/9/2003 - A Peaceful Sunday

Not a lot to say today. I got up about 10am, and Terry somewhat later. I don't think I've mentioned it, but last weekend I bought a book about day one of the battle at Gettysburg, on July 1 of 1863. And yes, I did bleat on about it last month. Day one was to some extent the neglected day, but it was also the archetypal scene for every civil war film you've ever seen. Men in blue and gray fighting in situations of apparent, and often real confusion, among rolling fields and woods, along fences and stone walls. The book is 600 pages of detail about what happened that first day. It hasn't been the easiest of reads, in many cases because of the intense level of detail, but I'm glad I read it. I finished it today round at Spirits, accompanied by my Sunday afternoon pitcher of Bud.

Later, we finished the soup from yesterday, and had grilled chicken breast with spinach and radichio salad. I can't remember what was on the TV, but it kept me occupied until about 11:30.

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Waiting patiently

Waiting patiently

20/9/2003 - More Bureaucracy

I'd been thinking that it might be handy to have an account with a bank with presence in both New York, and in Bangalore. So for this purpose, today I opened an account with HSBC (Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation), which despite it's name is a bank with headquarters in London. Terry came with me for moral support

Getting a bank account in the US these days is a bit like proving your right to succession to the throne in a medieval country. You need multiple forms of identification, and proof that you live where you say you do. Also they ask you a load of questions that any prior generation would have considered highly impertinent.

Fifteen years ago, it went roughly along the lines "fill in this form, and give us a specimen signature", and you had to deposit a few dollars to establish the account. At the current rate of change it would seem probable that you won't be able to get one at all in another ten years time!

In the evening, I made the potato, avocado, and cheese soup, and Romeo came to eat with us. It was quite a pleasant evening.

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Eleanor - the new family member

Eleanor - the new family member

19/9/2003 - TGIF

The wind howled some in the night, and I think it rained pretty constantly. Certainly this morning, everything was soggy, and there were lots of leaves and bits of trees in the gutters. But by lunchtime is was back to being a beautiful September day

Rachel emailed me pictures of the new baby. I'm going to pay a flying visit September 25th - 29th.

I spent the day at work reading the slides for a course that we have to do Monday and Tuesday next week. It we've all done that first we'll be able to spend more time on technical details. I have to say though that by the time I'd got through them I was pretty glazed over. Afterwards I played with the software some, so now I've got some idea what it's all about.

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The wind getting up 400 miles from Isabel

The wind getting up 400 miles from Isabel

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18/9/2003 - Paperwork

Today Terry and I took ourselves off to the Indian Consulate to get visas. As we went out, the leaves on the trees were turning upside down in a stiffening breeze, and clouds were passing overhead at unusually high speed.

I needed an employment visa, and Terry would get one for the same period if all went well. The consulate has quite a posh location at 64th Street just off 5th Avenue. Terry hadn't got the photos, so on the way we had to find a photography shop, but that didn't take long. The address may have been posh, but we visa seekers were directed to the basement, which was a setup familiar to all who have ever stood in line seeking government documentation anywhere in the world.

Fortunately, it didn't take very long by the standards of such places - you'd probably have been there most of the day if it had been an INS office. I was clutching my letter of appointment, and a letter from the Indian company explaining why they wanted to employ me rather than an indigenous worker. The counter clerk looked over these, and consulted her colleague. I gave her copies to keep, and the fee in cash, and she took our passports. At 4:30 I returned to the consulate, and picked them up complete with visas. Mine's an E and says I am to work specifically for the sponsoring company.

The Raheja Residency

The Raheja Residency

17/9/2003 - Nothing Much

Hurricane Isabel seems to be maintaining a steady course toward North Carolina, so there won't be any excitement here. It's just expected to be wet and windy.

It was a regular working day. However I did hear from India about where we might be living. It's a big residential complex with facilities, security etc. Not normally quite my bag, but I'm sure it will do us very well for our stay in the Decan. It's got all kinds of amenities that Terry seems to be quite taken with, and its only about 10 minutes from where I'll be working.

I got passport photos taken for my Indian visa application, and asked Terry to get some today also.

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South Street Seaport

South Street Seaport

16/9/2003 - A First

Today I became a grandfather. My daughter Rachel - the rock of the family - gave birth to a daughter Eleanor, weight 7lb 12oz, by caesarian section. Little Eleanor had her head the wrong way round, and not that many years ago, she might have killed herself and her mother too, being the child of an ordinary family. The Romans knew how to deal with the situation, but you'd likely only get the benefit of that knowledge if you were rich.

Rachel phoned me today, and sounded quite perky, as did Eleanor, who was making happy baby noises. The name is evocative for me. It has elements of Helen, my first daughter, who died of leukemia when she was six, and also of Leonora, my third daughter by a different wife. Rachel's no fool, so I take both elements to heart.

Of course I don't have a picture for this event, so an unrelated picture will have to serve. It also has a transatlantic element.

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Do you smell smoke?

Do you smell smoke?

9-15/9/2003 - Writers Block

Ok, I've lapsed. Life on 9, 10, and 11 was Get up, shower, go to work, have a couple of beers at BJ's, cook dinner, eat, watch TV for a couple of hours, and sleep. The American dream?

The point of excitement in the week happened on Tuesday (Sept 9th), when our administrator, Joan, rushed round the office telling us there was a smell of burning and we should leave by the fire escape route. Sure enough, one of the elevator motors had burned out, and there was certainly a smell. On the other hand, I'd be the last to consult, having little in the way of a sense of smell.

We stood outside for 20 minutes, then the building was pronounced safe, and we went back to routine.

Life on 12,13,14, and 15 was censored, by me as much as anyone else. I'm just fed up of writing about doom and gloom. I'll limit myself to saying that life wasn't wonderful.

Monday the 15th was the ETA of Rachel's baby - Teale grandchild number 1. I emailed an enquiry, but haven't heard anything yet. Good luck Rachel. If I don't hear from anybody by tomorrow I'll call and find out what's going on.

Steel demon (from the street fair)

Steel demon (from the street fair)

8/9/2003 - The Joy of Monday Resampled

A spot of Monday morning panic today. I got up OK, and showered, and everything was fine until the point of finding something to wear. Laundry time had come, and gone, so I was reduced to black jeans and a black T - clothes that I usually give up for the summer. But then, I guess, summer is over. It didn't really make me later than I'd bargained for, just hot under the collar. I consoled myself with a raisin-swirl Danish pastry with my coffee for breakfast.

Today I think I got to close grips with the software problem. I'd been pretty well briefed by Andrej and Brandon, and therefore had areas of suspicion. So I wet my finger, stuck it up in the breeze, and looked at the code. I won't swear to it at this stage, but I think I see the weakness. Of course, this happens quite often, and you end up being totally wrong, but that's just part of the process. It's not science so much as intuition - science is expensive, and takes too much time. But we all know how far off intuition can be.

I met Terry at BJ's. Boris was there, in an agitated mood, as is not unusual. He can spoil a pleasant hour when he's in that mood, but fortunately he let up. For supper, I ate the left-over garlic mash with some of the frankfurters I'd bought Friday, and zuchini. Terry and ET are back on speaking terms. She came over, and Terry cooked a meal for her. They'll probably play cards until the small hours. I shall be early to bed.

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Street fair

Street fair

7/9/2003 - Treats

Sometimes I think that I'm a bed hog, but Terry can usually give me a run for my money. I'd had enough by about 10:00, and got up, but Terry stuck to it until noon, and she wasn't far behind me to bed. I made myself cheese on toast and coffee, and luxuriated. There's nothing like going back to work to make you appreciate the weekend.

When Terry did get up, I was hoping to coax her out for a walk, but she wasn't keen, so I took myself off to the bank down at 86th Street to pay in a small check I'd forgotten. It was another beautiful day, probably hotter than the day before, but the sky was not as impressive. The bank had no payment envelopes, so I pressed on to 79th Street, where everything was working, and did my business.

I walked back along 3rd Avenue, which was a street fair for the day. Later we went up to Lounge 68 on 3rd Avenue. They have a happy hour 7 days a week, so we treated ourselves and had a couple of drinks and a mixed cheese and olives platter - luxury by current standards, and not something we could really afford. To compensate, for supper later we had pork chops, which were on-sale, and garlic mashed potatoes, and spinach - sounds familiar?

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The tail of the summer

The tail of the summer

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6/9/2003 - Mystic Weather

The weather today was something. It was, I'd guess in the 80s, the sky was deep blue, and there was that melancholy touch of fall to it. It was the sort of day you could have died in the night, and not wished for a better sendoff.

Terry was first out, to get a cold soda at maybe 11:30am. She came back and said it was a beautiful day. I'd been up for some time, catching up on this stuff, and yes, I know, I was really bad this week. But be warned, continuity will probably get worse. I have to do the change of venue, which will include shipping of my gear to India, and then finding a decent Internet connection.

One of the VPs from work phoned me in the morning, and for a moment I had this horrible doubt about it actually being Saturday. But I was right - I still cling precariously to sanity! Other than that, we had a quiet day. I went to Spirits at about 4:00pm, and sat and looked at the sky, and the passers by, and drank my jug of bud. Later I cooked one of the worst meals I've been responsible for in some time - don't ask, my intentions were good. It just didn't work. If you take it upon yourself to be an experimental chef on a non-existent budget, it has to happen sometimes.

The TV was typical for a Saturday night. Plenty of football of course, in which I have no interest whatever. Otherwise, 800 channels, and nothing on. We watched the Nth rerun of "Mission Impossible", and went to bed early.

An exercise in absurdity

An exercise in absurdity

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5/9/2003 - TGIF

Got off to work at about 7:45. Terry woke early, and sent me out with a smile on my face, and with documents to take to her broker.

At work, my involvement in the VB coding evaporated. They'd already made a start on all the pieces in Bangalore. So it looks like I'll be working on the software problem, and otherwise mostly doing educational stuff while I'm still in the US. I also got a first look at the Bangalore work agreement. It seemed non-controversial, except for one item that had beem missed, and that's going to get fixed. There was also some discussion as to whether I should pay a flying visit to Bangalore during the five weeks employment here. I talked to Terry about it, and eventually concluded it would be a waste of money and jetlag. I've talked to enough people who've been there to feel comfortable about just upping and going.

After work, I met Terry at BJ's. I got there first at about 5:30. She drifted in clutching the handbag a little later - I can't imagine a less practicable article. She'd been to see Nolan, and had had one or two there. Then we went shopping, but couldn't reach a consensus on what to eat. Terry bought spicy Italian sausage, and I just got some more hot dogs. She cooked first, and brought some for me, but it was too fatty for my taste, and after it I walked across to Mary Ann's to cut the fat with some tortilla chips and salsa. Terry went for a walk down by the river.

Later on, around 2:00am, she came in with ET, or ET arrived, and the two of them argued hammer and tongs for two hours until four. At that point, ET left, and Terry went out again. She sat on the wall outside talking to some strange man until 6:00am. I dozed fitfully, eventually getting a couple of hours of decent sleep when she came to bed.

The stroke of a pen

The stroke of a pen

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4/9/2003 - Cubeman

Just a little signature, and I'm back in a different world. I got into work at 8:45, and this time the place woke up more quickly. The agreement was close enough, so I signed it, set up a computer, and got connected to the network. My cubicle isn't too bad as cubicles go - it will serve for five weeks. The Bangalore agreement is the next piece in the puzzle.

Having got connected, I read the design document for the project I'm supposed to be working on. It had been done by one of the Bangalore guys, and was pretty good, though I did come up with quite a few questions, suggestions, and comments. Unfortunately (in my opinion) the design calls for much of the programming to be done in Visual Basic, a language I've studiously avoided for many years. Later in the day, I was briefed on a software problem in an area I've worked on before - looks like I'll get pulled into that too. It's a culture shock going back to work after five months of doing your own thing, there was also a lot to take in, and after 8 hours I felt pretty beat. For the record, I do a straight 8 hour days. If I eat lunch it makes me sleepy in the afternoon, and if you don't, there's nothing much to do in the lunch hour.

I met Terry at BJ's at about 5:30pm, but didn't stay long. Back home I took a nap, then when Terry came in, I got pizza for her, and a chinese take-out for myself. Later she went out again, and I went to bed early.

Tugboat on a choppy East River

Tugboat on a choppy East River

3/9/2003 - But No Cigar

I got up at seven, and was downtown by 8:30. The place was deserted. After a while, Joan, the admin person, arrived and gave me a sheaf of paperwork. The agreement still wasn't right, so I phoned the man who was dealing with it on his way to a meeting somewhere, then took myself off home.

When I got back at about noon, Terry was up and about, and making arrangements with ET to meet for brunch somewhere over on the west side. She promised that it wouldn't be a drinking trip. I twiddled my thumbs, and couldn't settle to anything. Eventually the weather got dry enough to be out, so I walked. Just before I met the tugboat, I got a call from ET. Terry, she said, was in a state at the Shark Bar, and what should she do. I said that in my experience there was little to be done except to leave her to her own devices.

Terry returned eventually, fuming at ET. She went out again later, I think to see Juan, and I don't recall what time she came to bed, more likely I simply couldn't be bothered to check.

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Gracie Mansion - the Mayor's pad

Gracie Mansion - the Mayor's pad

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2/9/2003 - Close to Work

This morning I went downtown for the promised further discussion about the possible Bangalore gig. I was to be there by 11:00am, so I set off at about 10:15. Fortunately I had some rides left on a Metrocard. The discussion went quite well. We covered the general aspects and conditions of the trip, and a draft agreement for the period while I'd be working with the parent company here before going to India. I raised a couple of issues with it that were hopefully going to be fixed by tomorrow. I'm to go in first thing, sign up, and start work.

I got back about 2:00pm. Terry didn't seem over-keen on hearing my news. She and Romeo almost fell over me in the hallway in their rush to get out - the trip ostensibly to put my name on Terry's safety-deposit box, and take some watches to the jewelers to get new batteries.

I caught up on sleep, which had been at a premium the night before, then headed up to BJ's, where I assumed Terry would head when she was through. She turned up at about 6:00pm, quite "lit up", as Jessica put it the next day. I stayed until about 6:45, but by then I was hungry. Having little money, I bought some eggs, and a can of black beans on the way home. These got combined with potatoes, the remains of an onion, and garlic, to make a strange version of curried eggs - rocket fuel, a combo guaranteed to make for lots of smelly farts!

When Terry got back, I told her I didn't think it would make any sense to take her to India unless she changed her behavior some. I have visions of her thrown in the jug by Kannada speaking police. This was interpreted as a statement that I didn't want to take her, and caused a fight. I sat outside for some time, then she went out, returning at about 2:00am, and blessedly not speaking to me.

Me trying to look cool

Me trying to look cool

1/9/2003 - A Wet Labor Day

It's a new month - click Previous at the top of page to see August.

What with the indigestion, and the cat, it was broken nights sleep. We didn't surface until 11:30am. It was raining, and there was a huge pile of washing up to do. Nonetheless, I was in a cheerful mood. The washing up got done, and I made coffee and toast, and I've fixed up the month change for the web site. Well, that kept me busy for a couple of hours. Now we'll see what the day will bring.

The answer was "not much". I got a response from the Mozilla team about the bug I'd reported, noting that some changes had been made to optimization. I followed through on these, and sure enough when I applied them to my project files, the problem went away. A good catch on somebody's part. However it seems that the fix may not have been propagated into the file I used to build the project, so maybe I did some good that way.

I went up to BJ's at five. Terry waited because Romeo was coming. I took a book I've had for 15 years and never really read, and sat and struggled with it. Terry and Romeo arrived around six. I left first and went to make something to eat, impressing on them not to be late. They arrived at the time specified, but then immediately went out again to another bar. I was pissed, so I abandoned the food and left them to their own devices. I ate mine and went to bed at about 11:00. Terry went out again and arrived back with Romeo at about 4:30.

Just to put things in perspective, at dawn on this day in 1939, Hitler's Wehrmacht launched a ferocious assault across the Polish border. The Luftwaffe sent its bombers and fighters to attack airfields, rail heads, troop concentrations or anything else considered important to the command and movement of the Polish armed forces. The first Blitzkrieg had begun, and with it, World War II. One hour later German troops attacked from the north and south intent on encircling the Polish army. The Poles fell back only to find German troops in their rear.

By these standards, mine was really quite a good day.

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