(Sunday) Do you sense a somewhat sarcastic tone to my title for this blog post? Probably, you say. Well, you would be right in some respects.
My Fitbit has ceased to function. It is an ex Fitbit, it has ceased to be, to quote the famous Monty Python 'Parrot' sketch. I had it charging on it's charging station (for want of a better term to describe it.) It isn't always clear whether it charges and it should vibrate when it's inserted properly and apparently you should get a smiling face appear on it's face/screen (or whatever it's called.) But none of this happened. I repeated all this over several days and then decided, this afternoon, to visit the Fitbit website and used the 'chat' system to describe to one of the agents what the problem was.
(Wednesday) Yesterday I got my printer to work! Which was a relief, considering the amount of effort it has taken to get it to work. I can't think what prevented it functioning. I printed off the plot line which was written long before Carol was diagnosed and I haven't managed to do any work on it since then and continues the plot of the spine plot of the writing project which runs to over 80 pages, which came as a surprise when I printed it out yesterday. It needs a great deal of editing, but, considering it's a first draft, it's not surprising. A lot of spelling mistakes for example and general glitches, grammatical and so on.
The replacement Fitbit arrived during the morning. I went to pick up the old one to find it working! So I have two Fitbits, although the one which came in the post doesn't have a strap, which I might buy in John Lewis and keep it as a spare. How perverse are these gadgets? Take ages to fathom out and set up as well as charge and then you never know whether it's going to work or not.
(Thursday) A somewhat overcast morning. Not sure what the day has in store.
1.15 approximately. I have just been out with Alfie and I'm shocked to see no less than five large caravans parked on Oldbrook Green. A car was driving off and over the kerb as I got to the crossing point. There are certainly not supposed to be on there. The weight of the caravans and the vehicles which tow them will break up the surface of the green. Fortunately it is dry at the moment but when it's wet there is often water standing on the surface and it can be like walking on wet carpet or more like a marsh and if it's like that the surface will be damaged beyond repair. I got home and went on the Next-door site and see that several people have already seen the caravans and the local authority have been informed.
(Friday) The caravans parked on Oldbrook Green have gone, thank goodness. I imagine some official from the Council have dealt with the matter. A few tyre marks are visible on the grass, but apart from that there is really no sign of the caravans ever being there.
(Monday) I'm seriously finding it increasingly more and more difficult to find anything worth writing about on this blog. Which is why you won't find me posting as often as in the past. It does get somewhat monotonous, which is a good enough excuse to not bother posting. Although there are many writers who can whittle on about next to nothing and manage quite nicely and probably get paid into the bargain. Probably paid by the word or number of words. Think of the pages and pages of description in many of Dickens novels. I expect, because they were written in instalments, be had so many words he had to write in order to fullfill the number required for an instalment. hence the sometimes tedious rambling on relentlessly.
(Wednesday) Yesterday I got my printer to work! Which was a relief, considering the amount of effort it has taken to get it to work. I can't think what prevented it functioning. I printed off the plot line which was written long before Carol was diagnosed and I haven't managed to do any work on it since then and continues the plot of the spine plot of the writing project which runs to over 80 pages, which came as a surprise when I printed it out yesterday. It needs a great deal of editing, but, considering it's a first draft, it's not surprising. A lot of spelling mistakes for example and general glitches, grammatical and so on.
The replacement Fitbit arrived during the morning. I went to pick up the old one to find it working! So I have two Fitbits, although the one which came in the post doesn't have a strap, which I might buy in John Lewis and keep it as a spare. How perverse are these gadgets? Take ages to fathom out and set up as well as charge and then you never know whether it's going to work or not.
(Thursday) A somewhat overcast morning. Not sure what the day has in store.
1.15 approximately. I have just been out with Alfie and I'm shocked to see no less than five large caravans parked on Oldbrook Green. A car was driving off and over the kerb as I got to the crossing point. There are certainly not supposed to be on there. The weight of the caravans and the vehicles which tow them will break up the surface of the green. Fortunately it is dry at the moment but when it's wet there is often water standing on the surface and it can be like walking on wet carpet or more like a marsh and if it's like that the surface will be damaged beyond repair. I got home and went on the Next-door site and see that several people have already seen the caravans and the local authority have been informed.
(Friday) The caravans parked on Oldbrook Green have gone, thank goodness. I imagine some official from the Council have dealt with the matter. A few tyre marks are visible on the grass, but apart from that there is really no sign of the caravans ever being there.
(Monday) I'm seriously finding it increasingly more and more difficult to find anything worth writing about on this blog. Which is why you won't find me posting as often as in the past. It does get somewhat monotonous, which is a good enough excuse to not bother posting. Although there are many writers who can whittle on about next to nothing and manage quite nicely and probably get paid into the bargain. Probably paid by the word or number of words. Think of the pages and pages of description in many of Dickens novels. I expect, because they were written in instalments, be had so many words he had to write in order to fullfill the number required for an instalment. hence the sometimes tedious rambling on relentlessly.
No comments:
Post a Comment