Happy little bunnies

Saturday April 29, 2006

No surprise, I suppose, that it took me a while to get going this morning. Slept very late, and flopped on the corner sofa while Graham got ready to go to work at 11:00. Then I took myself off to Williton.

Gosh but it was good to back in my old home town, and to feel that it was my home town once more. The sun shone. I visited the library, strolled across to the estate agents, just for a quick gaze through the window, and thence to the Co-op, to pick up provisions for us and a morning paper for John-the-chef. Lots and lots of grockles[1] in evidence, and I’ll have to time my visits better to avoid them. The penalty for hitting the Co-op late in the morning, when it’s filled with grockles buying stuff for their self-catering holidays, is a long wait at the checkout. I shall have to use a trolley in future—my hand basket was too heavy for a long wait, even though it held provisions for one day only.

Back home, I called in at the main building to say hello to Graham behind the bar, scrounge a coffee, and give John-the-chef his newspaper.

Then, back to the caravan, made a fuss of Dolly, and put a lunch together for Graham and me to enjoy when he finished at 14:00, and then we all took a long, long siesta.

Dolly the Mega-cat is being astonishing. She’s purr-fectly [sorry, it just slipped out] happy here in the caravan. Loves every aspect of it. She’s set up a routine already, and is in complete control of her world, small as it is. It could be that the smallness is a positive for her. Certainly if there any negatives she’s not communicated them to me. That’s one area in which we need have no concerns.

Graham and I are taking a bit longer to establish our routine but we’re getting there. And we’re perfectly happy, too. He works long hours, and needs to stuff every bit of living he can into what free time he can manage. Having the car here makes a big difference to him.

There’s been one major obstacle to me setting up my own daily routine—the lack of Internet connectivity. So, when Graham set off up the path to the club-house this evening, I sat down to resolve it.

It took me a while, but I got it sorted. In normal times I’d have a bit of rant here about stupid software but I’m so happy to have managed to diagnose and correct the problem that I’ll leave that for later. If at all.

Essentially, as it turned out, the Vodafone 3G Data Connect card has a less than optimum response to the situation where there is a perfectly acceptable GPRS signal alongside a detectable but inoperable 3G one. It opts for the latter, ignoring the former. There is a means, though it’s not too apparent, to instruct it to ignore 3G altogether and, after a great deal of searching, I managed to find it and set it appropriately. We are now connected.

It’s not the fastest connection but I was able to upload the previous two updates, and send out a notification email, without difficulty. It’ll do. The only snag is that it’s horrendously expensive. While I was doing my update, Windows and Norton were both happily downloading theirs in the background, bringing the total data transfer count up to 4.7 mbytes. At two pounds a megabyte, that’s an expensive session. I shall allow both updaters to finish their current job and then disable the pair of them. I’ll need to be sparing with pictures, too, though there’s no problem in one or two medium sized photographs a day.

I haven’t found a way yet of using my email program with Yahoo mail so sending out the notify isn’t too straightforward, or speedy. I know it can be done, though, so I’ll spend some time tomorrow working out how you do it. I shall of course do my normal email and surfing at the library once or twice a week. The Internet service at the library is free.

The bottom line is that all is satisfactory. I’m back on line. Providing I keep a close eye on the transmission costs, this essential foundation to my life is back in place and now I can turn my attention to establishing a daily routine. I have two days in which to work it all out. I can do that.

So, there you go. Life in the little trailer on the cliffs is settling down into a set of three independent but intersecting routines, and we are, all three of us, happy little bunnies.


[1] grockles: A coloquial term for tourists/holiday makers. In some usages it can be derogatory; in most, and certainly mine, it’s a benevolent, happy thing. Somersetians know full well how much the local economy relies on tourism to keep the butter on the table.

 

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