Stop living in the past!  You really have got some interesting glitches on SSI update

 

I was going to say that you'll have plenty of thinking time in the slave pits tomorrow, but on second or third thoughts probably need to keep your mind on the job unless you're planning trying another digital amputation.  I've seen some (not very) pretty nasty hand injuries in my time, makes me feel all unnecessary thinking about them. 

 

Can you take your computer with you or will I have to hold a seance?  Keep you chin(s) up, summer's nearly here!

 

PS I'll speak to him when he gets back from Threshers.

Well, it was a real rush job to try and get it out and then I had to abort it in mid upload as I ran out of time. So, all in all I'd be surprised if the whole thing hasn't gone completely tits up.

 

Having another go now but already tomorrow looms large in my rapidly failing consciousness.

 

PS. Frankly, the way I'm rushing about at the mo, you are probably a lot more likely to get some sense out of the séance.

 

PPS. Threshers, eh? So, it's a quiet night in with a few vats of plonk then?

Oh pooh! I just lost the whole reply to you. Pressed the wrong button - again.  SSI seems to be OK.

 

Strictly for medicinal porpoises.  Anyway, I had a hectic afternoon getting the suntan going, reading "Salt" (recommended by AB) and browsing through "The Italian Kitchen". Now I know why the home made spag went wrong (not reading the recipe properly). Put it down to experience and try again.

 

We could give ESP a whirl. Though with you making like a Dervish your thought waves would probably achieve exit speed and end up in a parallel universe. Hmmm...... Oh no, not another Vile Jelly!  (SMAKIBBFB)

 

Bonny Blazer ( sounds like a character in HiDiHi) has taken No. 2 son to Otley agricollege open day, so all is peaceful on the eastern front. Had hoped the clouds would drift away and I could look forward to another strenuous afternoon, but fickle weather, even CM (Who you calling Ol' Fleabag? He's had the treatment!  Show some respect for your elders and betters, boy!) has forgone his various summer reclineries in favour of a blanket on the chest of drawers. 

 

Can't even say I've got to go and start preparing a meal - BB cooks at weekends.  No Time Team tonight. I suppose I could go and watch the Boat Race.

Saturday split?

 

Done it.

 

Sunday brekky?

 

Done it.

 

Sunday lunch?

 

Done it.

 

Artyfartys' buffet.

 

Done it.

 

Oh bum, what am I going to do now?

 

Just a minute, it's a bottle of alcohol. I wonder if it wants to cuddle up and be friends with me? I'll let you know ..... but don't wait up for me, I may be some time.

 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

All that AND you were back in communication by teatime.  From the way you were whingeing I thought you had to do the evening shift as well.  You see, things aren't so bad when you break them down into manageable chunks!  A pat on the pate? "Well done and all that.....keep up the good work!"

 

Tried the alcohol-for-flu remedy.   I felt rubbish the following morning and couldn't help wondering if it was the cold or the booze. 

Have to give it another try...............all in the name of research you understand.

Yes, and I was crashed out in bed by 7pm!

 

A pat on the back? Thanks? Appreciation?

 

YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS!

 

We get the sum total of bugger all for that extra work. No, not even a 'thank you'. I'm not kidding all we got was a phone call straight after finishing lunch service saying 'Right, you can send the buffet down now'.

 

Keep working on the alcohol remedy, you'll get the hang of it eventually. the trick is to maintain a constant level of mild inebriation. Put a rubber teat over a bottle of gin and then Oversized Oilskin can get up and feed you regularly in the night.

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise???????

 

Don't shout, please.  My head aches and feels as though its stuffed with cotton wool but I can still hear almost as well as usual despite the constant sound of waves on a beach. 

 

So its not just the emmets who don't know their Ps and Qs? Is that the management or the artyfarty crowd who don't appreciate that you need to be appreciated?

 

Funny you should mention gin. I bought some unwaxed lemons so that I could have another bash at a Heston Blumenthal lemon pie recipe (there is either a misprint or his flan dishes are much deeper than mine) and Titanic Tuxedo said he fancied a G&T.  Well we had the lemons and 2  flat bottles of T (probably left over from xmas) but the Monk's feet were dry as a holy relic. So we had to resort to vats of vino again or some Irish Scotch.  Did you manage to make friends with your bottle before you fell asleep?

Sorry. It's just that some things make my blood boil ..... Generally, it's standing too close to high power microwaves for hours on end! The unappreciation comes from both sources, I'm afraid, so there's no hope.

 

Personally, I harbour deep suspicions about these cookery guru's directions. Sometimes I think that they deliberately obfuscate matters so as to guarantee that you fail which makes them look good. Even in my short time in the School of Mines I have noticed a tendency for the experts to produce their little gems while only admitting after we've bodged our efforts that maybe they should have explained things a bit better.

 

PS. I don't know how it was for the bottle but I must have been OK because we woke up in bed together this morning!

Just because you were still in the same bed the following morning it doesn't necessarily mean that you were OK!

 

Its not the obfuscation I object to, its the obscurity.  HB ( that's Heston Blumenthal not me - heh I just realised we've got the same initials) comes up with some pretty weird ideas so fails to look good in my book, e.g. sardine ice-cream - now I like sardines both fresh and tinned, and I can tolerate ice cream when there's no Yarg or Cornish Tiskey, but fishy ice-cream?  yuk!  Any way the recipe didn't fail: Pate Brise - could do better;  Lemon Filling - brilliant - just too much of it so we also had Pots au Citron.

 

PS "experts"  in their respective fields but that doesn't make them good teachers.

Oh, I dunno. What's the old expression:-

 

Those that can do, do. Those that can't do, teach. Those that can't teach go into politics!

 

PS. Sardine ice cream is a brilliant idea. Ok, maybe not to eat but think of the possibilities ..... We could stake obstreperous emmets out on Porthmeor, cover then with sardine ice cream and let the seagulls do the rest.

 

Have you got the recipe handy? Bwahahaha!

What a relief that I decided not to follow in the family tradition and do what I do do.

 

I must admit I had not thought of it  as an anti-personnel device.  Obviously, the harbour at low tide in preference to Porthmeor........ then you'd get them one way or the other, to obtain maximum deterrent effect.

 

HB's recipes are often so off the wall that you have to check the date.  Not being an ice creamophile, the colour supplement has by now been recycled into .......... whatever - xmas/ wrapping/loo/wall - paper.  I'm sure your guru's at t'school of mines could oblige, if they can't do (and the old saying is correct)  then you'll have to fall back on your own resources and invent something.  The world's your oyster.

 

I was going to go into Norwich (pronounced Walberswick) with BM (he being on a business trip) to start the research in the County archive but didn't think that the good burghers of that fair city would thank me for spreading my germs all over the place, so stayed all snuggy and cosy in bed.  Mind you, it would have been a good excuse for some retail therapy.

Curses, we'll just have to fall back on smearing them with honey and sticking prawns to them. Trouble is there are so many obnoxites and so few prawns!

 

Don't think I can rely on Mining School, either. So far all they have given us is recipes for tin soup, tin stew, etc. We were hoping to do some coal recipes but apparently there are no ingredients natural to Cornwall.

 

PS. Never mind giving your cold to the good burglars of Norvik, as a historian (lapsed) I'd be mortally offended if you sneezed all over valuable manuscripts. That medieval ink runs very easily, you know!

 

PPS. I thought retail therapy was only beneficial to bank managers (and Gordon Broon).