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Bah. Also humbug.
May. 23rd, 2009 10:20 pmMy internet has been off all day. This morning it was phone and TV and all things cabley also; at lunchtime they came back, but the broadband went again as soon as I tried to use it. So I booked a techie to come and fix it on Monday, but now it's back again and I don't know whether to cancel the techie or not.
Also, I have spent all day wanting to post about all sorts of stuff, including the fact - of course! - that I couldn't post, and how that's like a constant itch under my skin, a broken connection, a wire leaking static, something bad.
And I have read through another 120 pages of the book, which makes almost two thirds, hurrah. Not sure how much I'll manage tomorrow - no Lit & Phil, and the Grand Prix, and Lawrence of Arabia, and so forth - but then there's Monday too before the next actual posting day. I should see it off on Tuesday morning. God willing and the creek don't rise.
Meanwhile - in a bid to rediscover how I used to pass the time before the internet - I have been reading a book about the many generations of John Murray. Who - from the first John to the last Jock - was the epitome of British publishing, and what I always aspired to, and what I caught the very tail-end of in the eighties, before corporatism swallowed it wholesale. My first publisher, Hodder & Stoughton, was probably the last significant family firm. Ironically, Hodder in its new corporate incarnation is now the owner of what vestige remains of John Murray. So it goes: but pretty much everything I valued in JM has indeed gone. I iz a dynosaw.
Also, I have spent all day wanting to post about all sorts of stuff, including the fact - of course! - that I couldn't post, and how that's like a constant itch under my skin, a broken connection, a wire leaking static, something bad.
And I have read through another 120 pages of the book, which makes almost two thirds, hurrah. Not sure how much I'll manage tomorrow - no Lit & Phil, and the Grand Prix, and Lawrence of Arabia, and so forth - but then there's Monday too before the next actual posting day. I should see it off on Tuesday morning. God willing and the creek don't rise.
Meanwhile - in a bid to rediscover how I used to pass the time before the internet - I have been reading a book about the many generations of John Murray. Who - from the first John to the last Jock - was the epitome of British publishing, and what I always aspired to, and what I caught the very tail-end of in the eighties, before corporatism swallowed it wholesale. My first publisher, Hodder & Stoughton, was probably the last significant family firm. Ironically, Hodder in its new corporate incarnation is now the owner of what vestige remains of John Murray. So it goes: but pretty much everything I valued in JM has indeed gone. I iz a dynosaw.