18 February 2008

... It's cold and the sun is white ...

A ridge of high pressure has settled itself over the British Isles, and the weather that had seemed positively balmy has switched to Siberian, taking millions of daffodils by surprise. A clear sky means I found myself driving to the station in something approaching daylight for the first time this year.

I took a significant amount of work home for the weekend, and have not even had time to look at it. Fortunately the train was quiet and I had a good opportunity to attack some of it, once I had drafted this blog entry. But, even without doing any of my work, I failed to get out running at the weekend: instead I played around with a couple of elderly computers, one to wipe the hard disk with a view to taking it to a charity shop, the other to try to make the hard disk work. I ended up by offering the wiped-clean one to members of the local Freecycle group (www.freecycle.org, which I noticed to my amusement is sponsored by Perkins Coie). I had about a dozen takers, and felt sorry for the student in need of a machine to finish a piece of coursework, the man who wanted something for his children's homework, and the others who got nothing: but I found takers for the working clean machine and a near-death laptop, Larrry, who was Sarah's 18th birthday present from her grandmother, replaced a couple of years ago and passed on to me. Larry will go to someone who has had to give up his job as a postman because of an injury and is embarking on a computer repair course, which is a highly satisfying outcome. It makes me feel that the weekend has been spent usefully, in addition to which we had a very enjoyable evening out seeing Stomp , I read On Chesil Beach (McEwan writes beautifully) and all the girls reported successful weekends too - mostly in terms of the tips they have earned.

(Regarding the title: I already used the title-cum-first line of this song once, but the second line is just right for today.)

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