Red Alert

I’m not really into computer games, but I did once have a favourite; Command & Conquer, Red Alert. That was a long time ago, the late 90s, early 2000s. I often played the game with my youngest child, across our home network.

It wouldn’t compete nowadays, although there have been several more modern versions.

Anyway, there’s now openra, a cross platform browser based incarnation. It uses reverse engineered code and works pretty well too. Best of all, it runs fine under Linux.

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Well worth a look, it’s free after all.

The auction chairs

While living at the old house in Washington, I think it was around 2002, I bought some chairs in an auction. I’d not actually seen the chairs, since the auction was in Welwyn Garden City and I was home at the time. And phones generally didn’t have cameras in those days.

I bought the set of four chairs for twelve quid; cheap, but they did look a bit rough. Someone had attempted to replace the seats (an old man in Kent, I believe) and there’d been a degree of butchery involved.

They might have been a little messed up, but I loved them. I’d guess they’re early 1900s, but they’re made from decent hardwood.

Life was pretty busy at the time, so I stored them in the loft until there was time to do something with them. But they were still there when I moved to this house a couple of years later. And so they were transferred to another loft.

Where they’d since remained until today. After eleven years in this particular loft, I’ve retrieved the chairs because my sister has a use for them. 

I’d have loved to keep them, but I bought them for a much larger house and they simply wouldn’t fit into our tiny abode.

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Alternative Stores

I finally made a trip to the vegan shop in Benton, the strangely named Alternative Stores. Well worth a visit, even if you’re not a veggie. They gave me free chocolate, even though my second in command had eaten most of the sample food on display.

I’ll certainly be returning.

Football boots

Right now, I’m in my local watching football. Liverpool and Southampton. Liverpool are winning 2:1 coming up to half time. Exciting, isn’t it?

Oh, it’s now 3:1 as I type. But, no, it’s not exciting.

My mate, Ian, is telling me (by text) how good this is, as is my second in command, but I just don’t get it.

My grandmother once bought me a pair of football boots. They were on the list of things I needed when I started secondary school. I’d survived primary school without such footwear, so I couldn’t understand at the time why I would need football boots. After all, I’d successfully avoided football up to the age of eleven.

Anyway, I did appreciate my very expensive boots. I may not have worn them more than twice, but I really felt grateful for my grandmother’s gesture. The boots were the most expensive item on my school list.

But I don’t get football. I never did and still don’t. I know that my team are ‘the reds’, but I don’t really care whether they win or lose. Because I just don’t understand it.

I may have another beer, it might help me understand the game.

Hat

My second in command may be about to leave her hat in the very same place she left/lost mine.

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I loved that hat.

Big Bird

Currently in the Ostrich, after a very nice curry in the Taj Mahal (the one in Peterborough). In our usual seats.

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Did I mention that my second in command once lost a hat of mine here?

Alan

If my second in command hadn’t been rubbish today, I wouldn’t have met Alan.

The former went home after work this afternoon, even though she was supposed to meet me in town. So, I may have sat in the Split Chimp a while before I realised that my significant other’s communication skills, or lack thereof, would prevent our meeting.

And, as for Alan. Well, he fell asleep in Wetherspoons, after a bottle of wine or, most likely, a couple.

I’m sure he just needed a rest, but apparently it was deemed that he’d a medical\mental issue. I have to say that the man simply looked tired and in need of sleep.
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But, no, the staff felt the need to call an ambulance. And, when the ambulance arrived, tests needed to be undertaken.

The end result, surprisingly, was Alan being taken home in the ambulance.

And that, in my modest opinion, is a huge waste of NHS resources. In my day, bar staff would’ve thrown him into a cab. At his cost.