I know I said yesterday that the weather was coming in, but this is ridiculous…. Behold, though, the opening frames of a certain 1980s TV classic, watched in its entirety tonight. Apart from Zaphod Beeblebrox, who adds almost nothing to it, it’s still funny and clever. There’s absolutely no plot, though.
Life’s present exciting status continues (that was sarcasm) and so the most attractive photo opportunity of the day was the wife’s sorting out of the local wool stock. Apparently the light-coloured stuff was what was needed for the project, so out of the bag it came. The vague flesh-coloured blur to top left may or may not be the sorter.
I learned only fairly recently that hummus is not only dead easy to make for oneself but it actually turns out cheaper than buying it ready made in pots. Beyond a bit of olive oil, you see here the entirety of the ingredients. Chuck the peas (rinse them first), the lemon’s juice, a tablespoon of the tahini, a teaspoon of the garlic, some salt and the oil into a food processor. Turn it on, and three minutes later, you’re dipping.
One of those days where I had to accept that every photo I tried today was either boring or out-of-focus. This one is certainly the latter, but hopefully the pink octopi are interesting enough. They are advertising baubles, though. Other energy providers are available.
Wherever it actually resides depends on the university’s deployment of ‘cloud storage solutions’, I guess, but the interface that allows oversight of this ‘digital twin’ of Manchester resides in the Business School. Want to keep an eye on the city’s start-ups? energy use? property prices? infection rates? It’s all here. There’s something mildly sinister and undeniably impressive about it all, both at the same time.
Happy birthday to the wife: I shall leave the exact number unstated (though you could work it out from looking at past October 26ths on this blog if you really felt like it). One of the weekend’s organised entertainments was to see Gogol Bordello at the Albert Hall in Manchester; they therefore become the first rock band (or should we say Ukrainian-American gypsy punk rockabilly band) to appear on here twice. Until I looked it up I was recalling our first encounter happening in 2017 or something like that but their first appearance turns out to have been 14th December 2013; nearly twelve years ago. Blimey. I’m impressed they have sustained the energy levels all that time. But I suppose Eugene Hütz (putting in a second personal appearance, on the left) is younger than me. (Although he’s older than Clare.) Well, good luck to you my friend — perhaps we will catch up again in 2037, if you’re still leaping about the stage at that point.
Maybe fifteen years ago these were in some kind of alphabetical order and general state of organisation but like molecules in a viscous liquid, they slowly rearranged themselves over time. Returning them to their original state of order has been a days-long job, only finished as I post this (Sunday morning). And it took all that time to find L. A. Confidential (which is what prompted the Sort Out in the first place).
No attempt at artistic merit today, but this was, I suppose, a significant event and worth documenting. Along with a couple of witnesses, Clare and I gathered in her room in town (hence the various accoutrements in the background) to sign our wills. I have made it to 56+ without having troubled to write down any wishes regarding what should happen to my estate once I finally stop doing this blog…. sorry, I mean, die. But here they are. I am sure there are no big surprises within either one, but at least it is now officially unsurprising.
Life remains unexciting and I doubt this is going to change in the near future. At least lunch was taken somewhere new. The rebellious spark in me wants to just swap a couple of these around. Not rearrange them totally — that would be messy. But, yin-yang style, maybe exchange one of the mayos with one of the ketchups. Doubtless someone would spoil the effect by putting it back: they wouldn’t be able to resist (not if they were anything like Clare, anyway).
When Spiritualized’s Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space album came out in 1997 it was a definite moment in the growth of my musical appreciation. I pulled it out of the pile somewhat randomly this evening and listened to it for the first time in years, but it still works. Apparently this version, packaged like a giant pill-box such as you might get from the pharmacist, is a ‘Special Edition’ and might well have been worth something in 2025 had all that careful replica packaging not been ravaged by repeated plays down the years. Digging it out was the most interesting thing I did today, anyway.
Being 42 