Picking up the pieces

Since we've returned home, we are both still waking up before dawn, much earlier than usual. At first light the streaks of cloud across the sky are all red, and it doesn't take long for the the cloud cover to grow dense and grey, obscuring the remains of the early blue and it stays dull and grey all day, and sooner or later rain comes and goes. It's typical of mid winter along the lowlands of the Severn Estuary. There's no point in hiding, so eventually we get up, eat breakfast, say prayers and get on with the day, trying not to get lost thinking too much of open skies, sun and mountains.

First, a trip to the GP surgery to pick up a prescription in response to yesterday's letter. It isn't ready, I can't hand around to find out why, as there's a tutor team meeting in College to get to on time. It's the day when activities resume, and there's a Masters' degree course running. Our students will arrive in fits and starts over the coming days, as there are two weeks worth of an exam schedule before the normal routine of College life resumes.

After the meeting, I popped across the road from College to say hello to Pauline, and learn that two St John's people have now died recently over the holiday. Nancy, in her mid nineties and Sam in his late eighties, details of funeral arrangements are awaited, but it's likely neither will be in a place where they were well known and loved. After coffee I inspected Pauline's increasingly slow running computer. Its browser was congested with tool bars and add-ons that sap performance on a seven year old machine, and goodness knows how long it is since the hard drive was last de-fragmented.

We left it running as we parted company, to get on with our respective afternoons. I think a new machine will soon be necessary, even though this one hasn't died. It can't keep up with the demands made on it. Sad to say, it would run quite decently for regular tasks using Linux, but the problem is the learning curve for someone busy. And having made the switch, the machine might still expire, and another new operating system would then have to be learned, and that's no fun when you're busy and organising your life depends upon not having to think about what you're using.

I returned to the GP surgery and was successful in obtaining a prescription second time around. I collected the medicines, returned home to change wet shoes, and then headed into town to see if I could buy a replacement kitchen florescent tube, but no luck again, the sizes don't match, and we'll have to order one via the internet. Our not very efficient kitchen suppliers use non standard components - vendor lock-in. Things you don't tend to think about when you're spending lots of money fitting replacement units. 

By the time I got home it has already been dark for two hours. Clare was working out how to assemble and use the Nokia phone she bought today to replace the stolen one. The operating system, though basically the same had a different user interface, and this took an age for her and I to figure out. We're just not used to swapping phones. Why should we unless lost or broken? Clare's now taken out a monthly contract. This was less easy than anticipated, because she had to prove who she was. The reported theft of phone meant that the PAYG credit was rescued and credited to her, but it also meant that a strict credit rating identity check had to be run as protection against identity theft. Pleasing if inconvenient thoroughness.

She also enquire of her banks when she could expect replacements for the other two cards reported missing and presumed blocked nine days ago. Neither branch had any record of notification. The cards didn't seem to be blocked at all. Clare called the card protection agency who confirmed from their records that notification of all three cards lost had been sent, but not acted upon over new year. This is certainly to the discredit of the banking system. Come to think of it, the very notion of 'bank holiday' is not at all comforting in a 24/7/365 world.

It was disturbing news, but thankfully bank statements showed no unauthorised card activity on either account since theft. It's possible that after money and phone were extracted by the thief, the bag ended up in the sea, or tossed into waste land, where it may one day be discovered. It was what the investigating officer said happened typically in these cases. Local thieves weren't that sophisticated.

I whiled away the evening reading one of my Christmas presents: my first Inspector Montalbano novel by Antonio Camillieri - the Voice of the Violin. I remembered the TV movie well, so there were no surprises, but the humour and lean descriptions played well with memory and imagination, and I read it in an evening. A sliver of wintry comfort.