Early rain gave way to a clear blue sky and sunshine, but I found myself stuck in front of the computer and uploading verification documents to the Credas website yet again, as it wasn't able to recognise perfectly legible pictures of my passport scanned properly, or so it said, demanding a a driving license copy and a detailed latest bank statement as well. Fortunately Santander's on-line system did deliver this without full when I'd logged in. As for the driving license, I had difficulty in finding out exactly where and how to do this. I selected the correct document, but the photo got uploaded to the passport section. It's not as smart as it thinks it is. It ruined my morning having to kowtow to this monster. It's de-humanising us by reducing us to a digital data stream.
A man was interviewed on the lunchtime news about a ransomware attack on a group of London schools serving a deprived area, describing the games played by Russian cyber criminals to extort money from the organisation. It seems that the entire school organisation was attached to the same digital infrastructure network platform, not only containing personal and financial information, but controlling electronic doors and security cameras. The idolisation of our technological capabilities, making the world totally dependent on them is now showing its ability to destroy its worshipper. What fools we are to have let this happen.
I wiped my old Samsung phone and packed it up so that Clare could post it for me to my sister June when she went out to post other parcels. Her friend Elaine will hopefully switch the SIM from the Nokia phone she finds hard to master to this Android phone. All so that she can receive SMS messages easily to confirm payments, deliveries and receive messages from the GP surgery. Given the weather and transport chaos at the moment, getting to and from London in a say to do this in person is rather daunting, unfortunately. I hope this will not be too scary for her to engage with. She already has a Samsung tablet, so it shouldn't be that foreign a device to get used to.
The death of my friend Chris was announced in this week's diocesan newsletter. I hunted on the diocesan website for his wife Bev's contact details, but couldn't make the search facility work. Odd. I tried the Church in Wales Provincial website and initially had the same problem. More by luck than skill, I was able to find the clergy database and what I needed to be able to email her.
A parcel arrived for me from my sister June containing a lovely warm comfortable fleece. It'll definitely be coming with me to Spain, where it can get quite cold at night, even on the coast. I cooked prawns for lunch in time for Clare to arrive home, then had a snooze in the chair, feeling a little depleted by an aggravating morning. Owain has it worse. He's moving out of his flat today, back into the house he used to share. And he's working from home. And he too is struggling to upload documents to the same Credas website. Enough to drive a man crazy.
I walked to Blackweir and found that the river level had dropped by a metre over 24 hours, still it's higher than average, but the flood water on the playing fields has drained away almost entirely. This is good news as it means the remedial work on clearing the river bank and bed has withstood the crucial stress test. I crossed over the bridge and walked down the other side through Bute Park. Annoyingly the gate was padlocked shut at about three thirty. There is a stile at one side, but in the few moments while I was there, a Deliveroo cyclist with an electric bike arrived, then another cyclist, and a woman with child in a push chair. I helped them get their means of transport over the stile, and walked on.
Out of curiosity I walked to the Castle grounds gatehouse at the far end. The big gates were closed by the small door alongside was still open with people both leaving and still entering Bute Park. For students and work commuters this route from Castle Street to Western Avenue is frequented all day until early evening after dark by cyclists and walkers. It seems unreasonable to me to close the gates furthest away first and obliging all users to climb the stile. There are no proper warning notices at the Castle Street gate to deter cyclists. It's even worse for people with mobility issues. It seems like a policy poorly thought through.
Clare had gone out to 'Amser Jazz' at the Royal Welsh College by the time I got back, and returned just as I was finishing supper. I spent a couple of hours watching an episode of 'Madame Blanc Mysteries' and then 'The Blacklist', as confusing and mystifying as ever. This was episode 16 of the current series. IMDB tells me there are 168 episodes. Will the storyline never wrap up? Unbelievable, never ending inconsequential twaddle.
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