May 3, 2008
We did our first properly rural thing today - cycling up to the local woods to gather the ramsons (wild garlic) which the other half is busy incorporating into pasta sauce. All we have to do now is walk out the other way and purchase our half dozen free range eggs from the honesty box system at the cottage at the bridge, and we shall have pretty much exhausted the really local food options, short of grabbing one of the gambolling lambs and stuffing it in the top oven of the raeburn. The rest of the food can be found in Tescos, like anywhere else. Still, gathering ramsons made us feel like we were out there at the wild food countryside cutting edge although I suspect in truth it’s precisely the sort of activity that marks out the recently arrived Londoner and we will get over it soon. That’s always assuming it is wild garlic and not, say, deadly nightshade. If you don’t hear any more from me here, that will be the reason.
That or whatever particular imp it is that is trying to keep me from the internet and mostly succeeding. Yesterday, at vast expense, we bought a sleek black O2 dongle thingy that connects my laptop via the mobile network. Like all small things that are worth a lot of money, it’s easy to leave behind, so I knew I had to keep it with me and not leave it behind at Huttonian’s. All the way down from Edinburgh I clutched it to my chest, not letting it out of my sight. This morning as we packed up, I made sure the dongle was the first thing in the car. Once home, we tried it out and it worked a treat, faster than dialup although not really quite broadband. And then my laptop announced it was hungry. I had not forgotten my dongle. I had not forgotten my laptop. But I had forgotten its charger. And it was 9% of battery away from becoming a bulky and not very effective placemat. I hit a new low at that point, I have to tell you.
Fortunately, among the many things I meant to get rid of and didn’t during the move (it’s funny how, after a while, it’s easier just to stick something into a box than actually think about how to get rid of it) was an old laptop charger that, miraculously, fit. And so I am on-line once more though for how long, I don’t know. Even now, I have no doubt, playful rabbits are nibbling away at the foot of the nearest O2 mast, about to fell it to the ground. If you’re quiet (and it’s very quiet, here) you can hear their little teeth nibbling…
May 4, 2008 at 7:57 am
This is why it is so important to get an iPhone. Loss of internet can cause irritability, hives and, in extreme cases, death. Given BT’s incompetence and your locale it’s important to protect yourself from catastrophes such as broken laptops, flat batteries, or BT being… well, BT.
Seen any Haggis yet, or are they restricted to the hillier areas of Scotland?
May 4, 2008 at 6:46 pm
No haggis spotted yet, but we’re keeping our eyes peeled…
May 5, 2008 at 2:52 am
Oh!! I have found someone worthy to read. It was almost like some cosmic treasure hunt. There I was, re-visiting my old 20six.co.uk blog [fiona32], and I clicked over to your digruntled community blog and then you said you weren’t there, you were somewhere else. So I followed that link–all the while struggling with this frigging migraine I have had all frigging day. Then you had the audacity to quit working and run off to Scotland! So of course I had to pick up my tent and follow you there. But the worst part was the realisation that in order for my comment to have any credence, I was going to have to fish up from the depths of my memory [politely termed 'the foggy dew' in my family] my password for my WordPress site. I knew I had one, because I have a site on every domain in the universe under one name or another. So I am here now, properly dressed and in major pain, and I shall not leave your blog ever again. I love your writing. It is truly gifted. You can sling words with the best of them. I’m usually much more exuberant, but my headache is getting me down. Thank you for being a bright spot in my day.
Fiona McCann
May 5, 2008 at 11:55 am
Fiona - well, I’m humbled. Thanks for persisting through a migraine to leave such a flattering comment