While at university some time ago, I became friends with a couple of gentlemen. After graduation, we committed to regular reunions, both planned and opportunist. In this we were successful for several years, but one of our number was lost a while back (lost as in contact). Yesterday, involved a partial reunion of the more random kind, although we remain one man short.
I went for an asthma check this morning. It didn’t go very well. A change in inhaler was probably a good thing. But, then a random blood pressure check raised some eyebrows. I must admit that I’ve known that my lifestyle hasn’t been the best of late, for the past few years, but my 350 over 200 reading (I may have made that up) today really scared me. My usual ten minutes check-up turned into a major issue. I clearly failed the blood pressure thing, with an immediate blood test and a referral.
Since then, while awaiting results, I had a look on the Internet (I know that was stupid), finding that I need to:
1. Stop eating meat
2. Stop smoking
3. Drink less
I’m somewhat annoyed that I seem to have high blood pressure even though I don’t eat dead things or smoke, while avoidance of both would usually prolong life, apparently genetics has a massive influence.
While I’ve not actually had the results of my blood test (my blood was/is a lovely deep red colour), I must say that I’d assumed that my liver would be the first organ to display problems.
I shall now relax and drink beer.
Or, rather, Belgium. A fairly random decision led my second in command and I to Folkestone a few days ago. A day trip to Bruges was involved. A strike in France, with those taking industrial action driving up and down the motorway, resulted in a huge delay in our arrival in Bruges. And a shortened stay.
Fortunately, we found a very nice bar.
Where we had some very nice, local, beer.
Of course, such nice beer comes at a price. After missing our transport home, we explored options. A map was procured, from my second in command’s employer.
They drew a route to the station for us. The station wasn’t the best idea though, since trains would only get us as far as Dunkirk. Fortunately, my eldest daughter found us a better solution, via Ostend, the following day.
Arrangements were made while we rested in another bar. We then found a random, but excellent, hotel.
There are better pictures on my camera, but I’ve yet to extract them. Toothbrush and toothpaste were purchased (at a ridiculous price) and food sought. We then had some nice beer.
Until my second in command needed to sleep. After which I found a nice local bar, where I had one or two nice beers.
I soon left after the above hit me like a hammer, as warned by the barman. However, the lack of chemicals left me without a hangover the following morning. Which meant I was able to comprehend train times.
Yes, that’s me taking a picture of a rail timetable. We arrived safely in Ostend and, after some wandering, found our rescue point. Fortunately, there are street maps in Ostend.
And art. I’m adding this only because I liked it.
Ostend also has nice bars.
After a lengthy period of disinterest in travel, I’m now looking forward to our next excursion.
We found a hotel in Belgium. It has WiFi. A more comprehensive update may follow, but it’s a nice hotel and there is an internet connection. We weren’t supposed to be here, but a bad sense of direction, French striking farmers, and beer led us to stay in Belgium this evening. More will follow.
Our new garden table.
A few days ago, I had a pretty strange dream. Naturally (Freud), Dream Works had kicked-in, so I only remember a little. My dream involved my second in command and I having to travel to somewhere (I know not where) with haste (I don’t recall why either). We went by car, although I’m sure I had my travel card. Once in the car, I noticed that the passenger front window had been replaced with cardboard; secured with duct tape. And then I realised that the car was blue rather than white. Metallic blue. Somehow I could see the exterior of the car while inside. The blue, metallic, car was suffering from a bad case of corrosion. Really bad. Well, it was an old Ford, so that was understandable. I couldn’t quite make out the model, but it was wedge-shaped.
When I questioned my second in command, she informed me that Daisy, our car, had been exchanged for the rusty metallic blue Ford wedge.
And, minutes later, we were in a very much rustier, white van. Apparently because I’d complained about swapping Daisy for the blue rusty Ford. So we proceeded on our way in a rusty white van. To where, I’ve no idea. Or why.
I’m one of several thousand people left with a deceased Nabaztag, or even worse, the newer Karotz, after the respective servers were turned off.
Help was at hand, sadly not for Karotz owners, when someone kindly developed a Raspberry Pi solution; in effect, a Nabaztag can run as intended from such a device. I tried it, with success. Until my cheap eBay phone charger, that is. Said device exploded, as mentioned at the time, leaving me with a dead Pi and, discovered several hours later, a very dead TV.
Anyway, while on my way to work this morning, I came across a blog which appears to have a Nabaztag\Raspberry Pi\Apple vintage focus.
Notice the header? Although the Nabaztag has been deceased for some time now, this blog still uses it in both name and graphic.
Better still,the author has attempted to integrate a Raspberry Pi within a Nabaztag II. OK, so it may not have worked, but it makes one wonder if there’s a less ambitious way to achieve the result. Unfortunately, my French isn’t great, so I’m not 100â„… certain what went wrong. I shall investigate.
A slightly blurry picture of our new front garden.
It may be small, but it was a bugger to get into the car and transport 200 miles. Even worse was the effort needed to remove it from the car (otherwise known as Daisy).
Our front garden may appear small, but it can’t be lifted by a single person. Or even a married one.
A couple of pictures from underneath the Tyne Bridge, from Saturday night.
I was surprised, although I’m not sure why, that Whitley Bay golf club is actually quite nice. My second in command were there for Maria’s 50th birthday; Peter’s wife, for anyone who doesn’t know. It was a very nice party and it was a real shame that that we needed to leave early because my second in command has work in the morning. There would have been pictures of Peter’s unusual dance moves, but they were all too blurry.