Word Pressing Times

Posted on by August 22, 2017 28

One or two of you may have noticed my absence yesterday?

It’s not that I had nothing to write about [which I didn’t, really..] so much as having a very full plate.

There is a project underway and has been since the weekend.

One of Anna Raccoon’s wishes was that her old site be retained.  Unfortunately she had deleted it so that was a little difficult.  It was time to put some heads together, so there is a joint effort between The Blocked Dwarf, Mr G [Anna’s husband who fully supports the project], from Dr.Mark Smith of Edinburgh University and a tiny drop of technical stuff from myself.

It ain’t easy.

So far we have recovered  nearly 1,500 posts from Anna’s PC, courtesy of Mr G.

Those posts come as single files, each containing around 30 files of code and images.  So now I have 60,000 files on my laptop, and what do I do with them?

With a drop of coding trickery I have managed to recreate the 1,500 posts, but then there are images scattered amongst all those 60,000 files, spread through 1,500 folders, and a load of them are duplicated.  Fun stuff to get one’s head around?

It will take a while yet as it is very much a work in progress.

There is also the severe problem that I run a test and then get totally distracted, reading the post I have tested.  There are some real gems in there.

Around 1,500 of them to be precise.

Happy memories

Posted on by August 20, 2017 11

I went for my 5,000 mile service on Friday.

It wasn’t strictly necessary, but Doc likes to see me [in an official capacity] every six months or so, and anyway I needed a certificate signed to prove I’m still alive.

“How are you?” says he as we walked from the waiting room.

“That’s for you to tell me!” replies I.

It’s a standing joke between us and a visit wouldn’t be the same without it.

Anyhows he prodded and poked and took blood pressure and shit like that, and was happy to confirm that I was indeed still alive.  It’s nice to get official confirmation?

So he was telling me to breathe deeply and was prodding around with his stethoscope when he asked it I still smoked the pipe.  It was interesting to note that he couldn’t tell from his tests – no wheezing, racking cough or lumps of tar rattling around in there, as Tobacco Control would wish for?

I replied that I was of course.

“That’s grand” says he.  “What do you smoke?”

I told him I was a Condor fan and a distant look came over him.  Apparently that’s what his father smoked.  I said I would light up for him but that my pipe was in the car.  However I had my tobacco pouch in my pocket so I gave him a whiff of the contents.  He was in heaven!  I told him how people frequently approached me and thanked me for reminding them of their dads and grandads, and he said he wasn’t surprised.

He’s a decent man is Doc.  None of that bullshit or nagging.  That’s because he knows how the pipe is better for me than going without.  Either that or they don’t mention smoking in veterinary college?

He’s the only doctor I ever let smell my pouch.