The Phone Trials

I finally found the courage to set up the new phone.  With the old one constantly running amok I thought it was time to move on.  It was surprisingly easy in one sense and wearing in another.  Several things went smoothly, though I am still seeking others from all around, and Google, bless them, made it much easier, as long as I gave them everything!  

As always the changes are better, except those that are not.  Much time was wasted fantasising on how to deal with Californian 14 year-old Geeks!  And not in a pleasant manner.  To them, making things easier, quicker, and more helpful, is to me a nonsense which makes no sense whatsoever.  Do they have no schools over there?  Or do they spend so much time dodging bullets from mad pupils they cannot see a straight forward way to do things?  Innovation is not always required!  

Anyway, while tap, tap, tapping and getting no response i was trying to look through the mirk at Scotland getting gubbed by Australia.  Edinburgh in September has the most wonderful skies.  Deep blue flaked with black, cool air, the lingering aroma of a recent summer, the promise of more tomorrow.  Naturally, the clouds covered all this and the game is being played in a near mist!  All around people are wrapped in winter outfits, though a few short wearing eejits can be seen, and not just the young trendies either.  The desperate Edinburgh middle class man proving his mettle in public for all to see is here.  Cameramen shrouded in black coverings could be mistaken for nomadic tents, while the schoolkids of course have not yet noticed the weather, they are just seeking autographs or attempting to catch the ball when it runs out.  

That said, my new phone keeps making noises and I canny see why.  This will keep me awake all night I bet. 

Another Toy

Another toy to make me gnash my teeth and whimper.  

My phone, which I rarely use as a phone, is giving trouble.  Too old to upgrade so I am forced to upgrade by buying a new one.  This is not a problem in that I have saved money donated at Christmas by attractive young women, well one, and that covered the cost of this cheap improvement.  

The old one was making noises, setting off alarms, and running through all the apps for no good reason after being on for a while.  It is clear it now must go into reserve, it must be at least 10 years old and in today's world that means it is past it.  

I hope to just change the 'sim' card and continue from there, no doubt this will be the first problem.  I expect to find many of them once I get it going, that is, if I get it going.  More power and more ram and less needless apps this time say I.

I will get the straightjacket out of the cupboard just in case.

This Christmas gift appears at first sight to be a good idea.  Written by two famous historians off whom I had never heard, it gives the reader the opportunity to decide what you would do if placed in a situation during the war.  

This sounds fun.

If you were Gavrilo Princip what would you do if you see your enemy approaching, indeed stopping in front of you.  Would you fire or not?  You are young, enthusiastic, determined to fight the enemy, and, in my opinion, stupid!  Gavrilo fired, killed his enemy and wife, and was swamped by those around him.  What did he succeed in doing bar starting a major war?  Nothing.  

Had I the chance in similar situations I would not stand with a gun amongst a crowd.  A sniper ensures his escape and remains in hiding.  How could such a straight forward point be missed by Gavrilo and his three friends standing along the route of the procession?  

Each chapter in the book leads to a choice of actions and follow ups with this.  Here it becomes complicated.  While I started to follow all this I soon became bemused by the confusing choices of pages.  They did not appear to me to fit.  Some gave a tale of what 'might' have happened if, but, I say, it didn't, so what is the point of this?  This is only guesswork and dos not work in my view. 

Anyway, through the Battle of Jutland I got myself confused.  The story itself is straight forward but I found the book confusing it somewhat.  And that ended things for me.  

A good attempt at a book of this kind but for me it did not work.

Fir & Fone...

Excitement!

Or at least I thought it was excitement.  

Suddenly this fire engine was stationed outside my window and I began to look at the neighbours to ensure they were not afire.  Then I noticed several firemen, all local volunteers on permanent standby, running about the park opposite.  Thanks however to the trees I could not see what they were running towards.  Soon a hose, a thin hose not the type used for major fires, was running across the road holding up the traffic.  

Why?

They did not say.    

Also annoying is the fact they usually post on facebook an account of any calls they make during the day, so far no comment has been posted. Even worse they took of quickly without letting me know and raced back to their actual jobs silently.

I must say it is some job being a part-time fireman.  We had one next door for a while, young an ambitious he soon took of for London possibly because he had just married.  Before then we often heard him at 3 in the morning running downstairs, bleeper bleeping, as he hurried round the corner to the station five minutes run away.  Most of these men have their own jobs, some self employed of course, but all share the same risks all firemen have to, accident and death occur sometimes.  

Tsk!  I will never get my nosiness fixed.

This brute, photographed in the wrong light, is giving trouble.  All technical things give trouble, including this laptop which keeps joining words together and spelling them badly!  

The phone goes mad on occasions.  It suddenly just spins through all the apps, the clock timer is set to go off 40 times a day, music form YouTube begins and canny be stopped, and this lasts for ages.  There is no way to stop it as it ignores instructions.  Holding the on/off key sometimes brings it to restart, but not always.  

It is old.  

As you know old things work well for years and suddenly bits fall off, it happens to us also.

So I am considering a modern upgrade from the same company.  This will be paid for by money accumulated from past Christmas gifts.  One I saw was only £149 and ought to do all I need.  I have not searched the ones reduced by £250 as they tend to begin at around £800.  Who needs to spend that on a mobile phone?  A business might possibly, someone who spends all day on their phone might, but not me, so this sounds OK.  

But I always hesitate when it comes to spending money, especially that much.  Surely, I think, surely a new microwave or whatever might be more important?  

So I hesitate.

Of course I cannot 'upgrade' this phone, the website no longer mentions this one, it is too old for them.  Surely I have only had it 10 years, or round about that?  But that is outdated these days.  Now I site here holding my bundle of £20 notes cogitating...

Henry Barlow Carter - Scarborough 185

Tech!

 

This is Fishing boats off Leith, possibly 'Zulu's.'

 

My love of technology increases daily.  The 'Dell' is now hesitating to respond to my delicate touch, this means several attempts today to get the blessed thing to actually do what it is there for.  Of course the router is not breaking down this week, it just will not go above a speed of 24.  

So, I glanced at prices for new laptops, just in case, and decided there was no rush.  The ones I consider useful range between £7-£900 and this means they can wait for a bit.  Slowly my mind will work out how little I need such a machine and will soon find me something much cheaper.  

My love of technology was not increased when I attempted to get the mobile working.  Several attempts were required before switching off and starting again.  I will not begin searching out prices for the new ones...

Laptop Death

I have decided to write a book!  It will be called 'Your Laptop is Trying to Kill You!'  It ought to be a best seller.

Today, I attempted to download family history info that had been lost some time ago.  I had most of the info in place and was sure of finding what I required once again.  After some faffing about I began to download info onto paper for printing.  Because of the setup I had to first copy and past the info, then paste it onto what they call 'Sticky Notes' as this removes any little boxes and frames the info has been put into.  From there I then paste it onto a 'WORD' or in my case a similar page.  Simple.

Not so.

For a start, right clicking on this machine either does not work, or if it does it then switches off as you use it to cover info or paste info.  This is a constant habit.  As it sometimes requires several attempts before it works things can go wrong.  While copying one piece about 'Margaret' it failed several times, by the time I had copied the details and printed it off I realised I now had two 'Isabell's!' The blasted smug machine had switched back to the previous woman!  

Add to this my confusion caused by one of my beautiful nieces.  She has also been looking into this and managed to place one wife as the daughter of a previous parent.  It took some time before I worked this out.  The unfortunate habit of using similar names in each generation may be romantic to some but it does the head in of those of us today scrawling through hundreds of Margaret's of Isabell's.  As my dad was called Robert, and so were almost all the fathers before him, and others of the same name also used Robert for generations it is quite easy to come to the conclusion those Mad Axe men found in the daily press are not so mad after all.

Of course add to the fun the router.

This is a machine that sits on the desk quietly doing its work.  

Except when it begins to flash!

Green, Orange, still orange, flashing orange with a 'b' and possibly a wi-fi sign, then more orange before Blue appears, before it begins the whole routine once again!   

Mine takes a delight it playing nice until the football begins, then it goes off on one.

When it all works, the swear box is filling up nicely, and the printer is working well, that is when you realise the ink is about to run out.  There is of course plenty of black ink in the cupboard, but no coloured one.  The coloured one runs out.  You glance at the clock, the wee stationer is shut, supermarkets crowded, but if you go there is no suitable ink, and if there is, it is not the one you need.

You pick up the mobile, switch it on, or at least attempt to switch the brute on.  Nothing happens.  You press again and again, yet nothing happens.  You fling the brute down and it switches on.  

You then attempt to count to ten but that is not helping...

Tomorrow I will visit Tesco, I may have to use the self-service machine.

This could mean trouble...

Log in Woes

The success of the Heart of Midlothian in qualifying for the 'Euro Conference League' (No, I had never heard of it either) meant that I now had to spend more money from under the bed by acquiring BTSport.

This was something I did not wish to do as I had enough of boring Euro matches and did not wish to spend cash.  However, to see the team play I must enlist.  

So, through 'Plusnet' I acquired BTSport for £10 a month (until they charge me £17:50 in a few months time) and began to fill in all the requirements.

First mistake was to download the Ap.  

The mistake being I downloaded it onto the phone.  I meant to use the laptop but went ahead in the thought it would be easy to add one there also.  It is not easy, it appears impossible!

However, I went ahead with the application, filled out the details, and wrote them down as clever people do.

Later, I tried to Log in.  

Wrong password.

Password changed.

Wrong password.

Grrrrrr!

Then I realised I had to wait 24 hours before logging in.

Fool!

Today I tried again.

Wrong password!

Eventually, after much teeth grinding and sulking I realised the faults.

This concerned the auto name on the address, they automatically used the wrong one.

This I amended, the password also was amended after logging in to the 'forgotten everything idiot' dept at BT, and after much tears I was able to log in, on the phone.

Now I await the Chelsea game, though I will also watch Celtic being humbled by Real Madrid later, if the phone or my eyes do not pack up! 

This however, will not do my eyes any good.  I must work out how to get the ap into the laptop.

One day all football will be on one channel... 

 

Tuesday Grumbles

It has been an exhausting few days.  Last week I did too much for my unfit, old frame.  Walking about on Sunday did not help.  So I have done nothing of interest again.  It has to be said, that is now my normal existence.  This morning I reached Sainsburys early but found I was tired, very tired.  I struggled back home and drank coffee and ate whatever I could find, irrespective of what it did to the diet.  This took all day to wear off, and is still hanging around yet. 

Actually, I have done other things, mostly on the laptop.  I have managed to upset gays in the USA, Brexiteers in the UK, and my downstairs neighbour, though that was by just existing.  

So, the time has not been wasted then?

Boris has managed to cause a railway strike, by not allowing his government to take part in talks, also reducing subsidy payments by half, demanding 2500 job cuts, including ticket sellers, replacing them with computerised online tickets (which many cannot use) and refusing wage increases.  He now blames 'militant unions' for troubling the nation.  

'Train drivers are overpaid' some claim, ignoring the fact that train drivers are not involved in the strike.  The 'Daily Mail' reader is easily led.

Postmen are next, Criminal Barristers, those who defend you that is, are also striking this week, most others are soon to follow.  Nurses, dustmen and a wide variety of people now suffering from the cost of living increase are demanding more.  This government of billionaires and millionaires is ignoring them.

On Sunday we remembered it was 'Fathers Day,' another of those imported US celebrations that did not exist when I was young.  Father's, now almost outlawed by Harriet Harmen and her feminist rabble, are given a token day today, but only if they are 'new fathers,' a term which implies all fathers beforehand were bad.  This of course is rubbish, many were bad, just as many were very good, however, books and magazines, newspapers and TV stories fill with tales of the bad ones. For 40 years Harriet and her harridans have been telling us men are bad, many now accept this as true, and this includes young men.

Fathers are important, we are created male and female, no matter what todays fashionable lies tell us.  One male, one female, married for life, are best for children, male and female.  We are all aware of the many failures, we often read about them.  We never appear to read about failed one parent (usually female) families which fail, we never appear to read about gay marriages which fail, couples living together for a while which fail, we obtain only half a story, and children suffer.

One police Inspector indicated that most young black kids in trouble had no fathers, this was quietly pushed aside, as this was not a popular, though true, observation.  I have known black men who have not looked after their children, but many more who have been very good fathers indeed.  Society hears only what it wishes to hear, not what is best. 

I notice Microsoft have been at it again.  While everything was going along reasonably they have amended this and that, especially the 'Photos' and not informed us as to how to change things again.

This did not take long to work out, however, once again it appears 14 year olds are the ones coming up with ideas.  Why do tech companies amend things so often?  Apart from amending mistakes, keeping out bugs, and finding new ways to make use of your data to enrich themselves, which after all, is what it is all about, why do they do this?  Last night, on the new, cheap, spare laptop, which uses the totally useless Win 11, I struggled with normal everyday things.  Sure, I was a bit tired, but the cursor requires fixing, the layout is poor, and nothing works properly, unless they say so.  Firefox etc, cannot be used unless you leave their 'S' security, whatever that means, and all I know is that they are making even more from my useless data than I am making for myself.  

Anyone got a spare 13 year old who can help here?

This brute does not help either!

The other day I was sorting things out and found a man in Amsterdam talking to me!  That cost text money to fix.  Every time I touch it something disappears or even worse, appears!  Now I find it 'topping up' with £20 three times within a week, whereas before it took weeks to do this.  

I went onto the website, struggled to get on, struggled to find the costs, struggled to find what I had paid, and struggled to understand why I am now paying so much more when it all looks the same?  A few more days research here before I dump GiffGaff and find another.  

A Trip to the Barbers.

When people begin to offer me money "For a cup of tea," as I stand vacantly looking into shop windows, I realise it is time for a haircut.  Just as well the beard has not got far or I would be 'moved on' by the constabulary.  That is, if there were any passing by.  The days of the local Bobby have long gone, the police constantly tell us they can reach an incident quicker by car than by having a man walk the streets.  There is indeed truth in this.  However, shoppers in town centres feel more security when a man in uniform passes by occasionally.  This also gives more 'intelligence' regarding the people on the ground when a local copper is on the beat.  I note a nearby town has two 'Special Police officers' who operate on a beat regularly.  This is the type of thing that must be encouraged, as well as asking retired officers to work a couple of days occasionally also.  Many would as this would mean little overtime, much less stress, and quite often successful policing on the cheap.

Being the Wednesday Market the usual collection of stallholders were improving their tans while hoping to improve their wealth.  The sun shone, the clouds floated, and the English perambulated by in a Summer like manner, in spite of the chill in the wind.  Did that chubby lass with almost nothing on atop not notice the breeze?  Did her fat protect her as it does whales and Walrus's?  I am not sure where that comparison came from. 

I looked the other way as I passed the cake stall, wandered through the centre hoping for some action, which did not occur, and hobbled back down the newly laid pedestrianised High Street.  To imagine two way traffic going down here only 50 years ago blows the mind away, especially as buses went two ways also.  At least one photograph shows a 'coming together' at the corner of Sandpit Street, now 'Lane.'  Quite how they extracted the single decker from the corner shop I know not.     

I wandered along, tempted by the coffee shops but not by the bunting displayed everywhere for the monarchs Jubilee.  Small kids on bikes or scooters raced past, first one way then the other, mother seemingly unaware they were in the thoughts of several dodging their travels.  A black Labrador dog waited with the owner outside one shop, rising to greet someone who came out to speak to it, who then passed an item to the boss, and returned inside.  The dog was pleased with any acknowledgement, are they not all like that?  

I turned the corner and entered New Street.  Once this was notorious.  Four public houses stood here, three were renown for their 'entertainment.'  The Three Tuns, also known as 'Little Hell,'  The George Tavern,' also known as 'Great Hell,' and the 'Green Man, this was known to all as 'Perdition!'  It may surprise you to know that the 'Cage,' the town 'Lock up,' much in use until a Police Station was erected, was located at the bottom of this street.  Two 6 ft cells often entertained visitors as much as the pubs.  The 'Three Tuns,' has long been absorbed into other buildings.  'The George long since knocked down and rebuilt as shops and offices, and the 'Green Man' now a house, though I think in fact it is now offices. 

My barber, sorry, Hairdresser, was empty when I arrived.  Being market day he has less customers than usual.  He complained that on market day "...people just come to shop, no-one comes for a haircut!"  As the one man just about to leave was also a pensioner this meant little profit for the Bar.. hairdresser today.  There again, £9:50 is a lot for a haircut, especially when some of his customers have so little hair unlike I.  

but This man likes himself, he is not so keen on me.  Most of his customers are 'Brexiteer' English types, who share his views and predilections.  I must be careful when I speak as a man with a sharp pair of scissors is not a man to argue with when roused.  His desire to speak well of Boris Johnson was indeed a trying time.  However, we agreed that Boris had indeed, "Spat in the face of his voters," and almost agreed he ought to be hung up.  

One thing was clear, Boris spoke for such as he, and I suspect many here.  Boris has touched the English Imperialist heart, he has made them believe he will stop all those black men spoiling 'their' country, and they still believe in him.  This when they know him to be a liar, untrustworthy, unfit for the job, yet many will still support him come election time.

No wonder dictators have long time support.  How  can it be ended?

I stumbled home across the park, greeted by a dog with a ball in its mouth.  It did not want to throw it, the Beagle (?) just wanted to greet me (twice) and hide behind the seat with the ball.  He had no intention of letting me touch his ball!  He gave every evidence of being happy, though finding the heat a bit much.

Thrilled with my popularity, with dogs, I came home to find the Blackbird singing for me.  As I badly concocted a form of lunch he disappeared, his place later taken by the wood pigeon who normally takes that spot.  

After lunch I played with my mobile phone.  I deleted things that were no longer required, attempted to delete a call from the other day and ended up calling a man on holiday in Amsterdam!  I could not work out how to stop the call!  What sort of an idiot designed these things?  Why are they so complicated? The laptop is so much easier to operate, why not the phone?  Bah!  Now, two texts at Amsterdam prices, prices which increased after Brexit, I have no idea how much this has cost us and am afraid to look.  I will hear in a week or so mind...

Clear as Mud

So I answered the problem of 'how to get photos from my phone to the laptop' by obtaining a suitable USB cable.  Considering I have a box full of cables and every one was the wrong size, USB 'C' apparently is required, all mine were different, possibly used for laptops, computers and radios rather than phones!  Any how I got one today delivered by 'Hermes' the worst of all courier services.  Not only did it arrive as promised (they promised to deliver between 11 - 1 after I had gone out just before 11) they actually did deliver before one O'clock.  I saw the man push the packet through the letterbox, take the obligatory photo as they do these days and depart as I was crossing the park.  Jolly good show 'Hermes.'  Since Lock Down 'Hermes' has employed many more drivers.  Their system was poor before, the worst of all, yet it appears to me they have white van men all over the place at the moment.  There were two here today, one doing large packets and this one with the small stuff.  I wonder if it will last?

So, now I have a cable to connect the phone to the laptop, I connect, it bleeps, it registers, and then nothing!  Naturally I try all things before looking for help in the instructions.  Here, as you see, helpfully the instructions are written in Mandarin, or is it Cantonese! 
Jolly good show!
Now I believe this the chinky folk trying 'soft power' in the way the US has been doing it for years, completely ignoring the people of this land and expecting us to understand what they are talking about.  I mean, Cartoons like 'Peanuts,' or 'Garfield, 'Marvel Comics, those dreadful US comedies with canned laughter and no humour, the movies and all else is dumped upon us and we are expected to know what they are talking about.  Naturally in reverse this gets nowhere!  With the exception of one small house in Georgia where a young woman lives with her own translator.  
Possibly the Beijing Emperor hopes to do similar with his export power?  I see a problem here.  While the normal citizen can translate US speak into some form of human dialogue ( you see, we used to call that 'talk') translating Chinese characters into some form of English is unlikely for 99% of the people.  Possibly they have heard the Geordie's cry 'Huawei the lads' and got the wrong idea?  
Anyway, after some struggle I found the spot to change things and discovered that I can indeed load the laptop with bad pictures taken on my feeble phone camera.  However, I am peeved that I cannot uplift to the phone from the laptop!  There has to be a way to do this, I will discover it, even though it may take a while, in Mandarin!

Thursday Trivia

'Thursday Trivia?'  What am I on about?  It's always trivia on here!!!

For a start there is this brute! 
Every time it 'ping's' I rush to see what unimportant item of tat has been sent by one of my few compatriots.  Tat it is, and tat it will remain yet I rush, putting aside important things just to be disappointed.  The other day crossing the field I took it out just in case I had not heard the 'ping' while it was in my pocket!   I felt lost for a while yesterday, then realised I had left the phone elsewhere and was missing it!
I may not charge it up later....

"Lexophile" describes those that have a love for words, such as 
"you can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish", and "To write with a broken pencil is pointless."

I changed my iPod's name to Titanic.  It's syncing now. 
 
I got some batteries that were given out free of charge.
 
A will is a dead giveaway.
 
A bicycle can't stand alone; it's just two tired.
 
The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine last week is now fully recovered.
 
He had a photographic memory but it was never fully developed.
 
I didn't like my beard at first.  Then it grew on me.
 
I stayed up all night to see where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.
 
I'm reading a book about anti-gravity.  I just can't put it down.

Just as I was closing up last night I noticed the 'Pink Moon' glimpsed through cloud.  Of course it is not 'Pink' and, so NASA tell me, it is not made of cheese either.  They would say that wouldn't they.  What they say about Trump signing an order claiming the right to 'Mine' on the moon may be clear to most of us.  So there I was, squeezing out the small kitchen window, trying to avoid the TV aerial and grab a shot of my moon.  It turned out 'no bad' after all.  Mind you, my nieces husband got a similar picture, so they must have a moon up there in West Lothian also.  Not as good as mine...

Excitement missed!  Some shouting outside today.  But by the time I got my head out the window it was almost over.  Three chaps, of late teen age, had been urged to leave the skatepark.  They did not look like locals and one in particular, large and loud, did not appear happy with the situation.  There was more to this than just keeping people indoors as two men in dark outfits with no insignia were also in the park.  
They black clad officer, now four together. discussed the situation while the three gentlemen making their way East informed them of their opinion in words I do not catch but intrigued the constables so much they hared off out of view to get a better knowledge of the terms used.  Out of vision, isn't it always the way, cars slowed, voices of struggle were heard, and cars stopped then moved on again slowly, each filled with individuals reaching for their mobiles.  It is not difficult to presume drugs were involved here, plus a degree of antagonism not related to being forced indoors, although I suspect someone might be forced inside tonight!
Camera at the ready and I missed it all!  Bah!

Friday Frittered...

It took a while but I have finally worked out 'Voicemail!'  The cheery voice at the other end told me to change my pin, he did not tell me I had one in the first place.  What he meant was 'Make one up' but he did not state that!  However I worked it out, entered appropriate numbers, and found two boring voices.  Was it worth it?  No!
I am getting the hang of this now, making use of 'Whatsupp' as it costs nothing, not counting all the info they have stolen from me and sold to China, unless China already knows all that useless info of course.  
My laptop suddenly ran slow also.  This took 24 hours to fix.  Once I remembered the trick was to switch the router off, then back on, all was well.  I was getting 30, now I am back to 71 at the moment!  It must be said there is not much going or or much that is worth searching for, especially now that football is dying.  
Maybe I ought to try my hand at fixing that VCR/DVD player...?

However, Spring, if you look out the window, is here.  Grey clouds may cover much of the sky but light is getting through.  Little plants abound, not that we are allowed out to look, and the sky is light early in the morning.  Good times!
This weekend will be warm they say, don't even think about hitting the beach!  I may rebel and wander across the park!  At the moment it is 12% and some sick person thinks it may reach 15 tomorrow.  Lots of exercise outside Tesco for some I see arriving.  

Maudling Monday Again

Like our pal on the roof I enjoyed watching the rain from a viewpoint today.  Scurrying up to Sainsburys and back was sufficient air for this lump of fat.  Naturally I scrolled through the papers and discovered that nice Rupert Murdoch's paper 'The Sun' has been losing some £86 million this year.  Apparently paying for all the lawyers that lost the case to the famous people hacked by his editor that did not know it was going on cost around £26 million alone.  He could have bought a reasonably good centre half for that price if he looked around.  He could certainly have obtained a journalist or two for a great deal less.  Still I suppose journalism is not Rupert's way is it.
He did claim that 36 million or more click on his 'Sun' website, not mentioning the 'Mail Online' claims 80 million hit theirs, neither mention that most are the same small number of people going round different items.  The number of 'bots' sent by Conservative Central Office and that nice Mr Putin, a friend of Rupert, also account for a large number of 'clicks' on comments columns.  Still as long as the advertising comes in to pay for it all, what's that?  Oh dear, advertising falling also?  
It could be worse, he could own the 'Daily telegraph' as that has lots a million readers under the present boss.  The Barclay Bros will let you buy it for around £500 million.  Any takers?

I have thought of a new party game.  It's called connect new phone to facebook or BBC.  This entails making the victim install these 'apps' and then log in.  The one who does so quickest, or the one who avoids throwing the phone pout the window is the winner.  Why do these things act like spoilt children?  Why do they not do what I want?  I am getting there but I have to keep lying down in a dark room every so often.   I will however show my great niece I am not a 'technophobe,' unless I fail to get through to her on the text bit...

Now, I'm Not One to Complain, but...

But, really, has this all got out of hand?
The TV and radio, the press in general, are spending an enormous amount of time of the Chinese Flu coverage.  They took a break for a while while the Caroline Flack death intruded, spent a day or so at the many flooded areas, which appear forgotten now, and are back with the Flu. 
Could it be there is no news available?  Could it be the English xenophobic way?  After all those trapped rather stupidly in Yokohama harbour have spent two weeks in a boring bedroom, now they are being airlifted back to similar accommodation 'somewhere in England.'  Is this story really so important?
I am impressed with the 'Daily Mail' coverage of Meghan and Harry.  Not at any time in the many column inches offered on the 'Mail Online' do they mention that Meghan is suing the paper because of its coverage of her!  Amazing that the paper does not appear to know this.  
However several times today she is seen as sour, vindictive and downright awful.  Harry is sulky, dim and just doing what she says.  While much of this may be a correct interpretation it would be nice if the 'Mail' admitted they are scared  she might win millions.
Oh and i looked at the 'Scottish Sun' again today.  
Don't!  It's just rubbish.
Of course one question not being asked by these papers is what happened to that Russian report that reveals how much Russian money and internet influence aided Boris.  Maybe that being released would be a good idea.

The good news is I, eventually, managed to get the phone working, made a call and then worked out the text setting and had received and sent texts. I expect now my women will be constantly nagging me through this!  I am in two minds whether to share the number.
More good news!
GiffGaff, who I joined on 'Pay as you go' have announced call prices increase from 15 to 25 pence and texting etc is also more or less doubling!  Rejoice, rejoice!!!
As O2 is the basis for all these companies, well many off them, it implies more prices will be going up elsewhere.  I blame Brexit!

No Time Today....

 

In between trying to get this phone to work, I did by 3:30, and doing the ironing, where are those servants?  I had no time to consider drivel to blog. 

 It's a hard life....

Wednesday Witter

The council planted Daffodils did their best to imitate Spring but all around dreichness remained. I was venturing out for the second time.  The supermarket had been blessed by my presence, not that Mr Sainsbury would be enriched by that over much today, and once I had returned home I cogitated  on spending money. 
My sister is in hospital, she felt rough, went to excellent doctor, who dumped her in an ambulance to hospital. A type of heart attack was upon her and now she lies complaining, unlike me, while being tested and manipulated by nurses. I suspect she will be home soon with a box of aspirin and a handful of coloured tablets to take.  I hope so, travelling up for a funeral is expensive!
However knowledge of what is happening there is limited.  I canny phone her man as he is too deaf to hear me, so I relay on daughter, who is not as efficient in informing me as she ought.  I therefore spoke, via facebook, to her daughter for facts.
During this I was called a 'technophobe' for not having a mobile phone and being unable to text. Although I indicated I have no friends and do not need one I was left feeling guilty about this so off I trooped to Argos, the shop not the ancient city, and spent money on a fancy phone.
Starting it up was complicated and eventually we are set. 
Now however I have switched it on and it wants the Pin number for the 'fingerprint' to let me in.
A dozen times I have put in four numbers, all wrong!!!
So now I have a phone I canny use!
I hate my life! 

Much later, after a lot of strange words, some online help, a video or two, and tea I managed to reset things and get the phone going.  Having never used a fancy phone, I struggled with that one that had a dial, and reading instructions that take it for granted you are 13 I worked my way through the encircling mists and succeeded to obtain a working mobile.  
Of course it would not make phone calls.
It took me a moment to realise I had to verify the Simm, so that can be done tomorrow.  My 'technophobe' hat is very much on and my head is spinning with jargon I do not comprehend.  That said I think it will be working by tomorrow, maybe.

Much of tonight was therefore spent glaring at the phone I hoped to use to contact my sister's phone why she lay in hospital.  My normal phone could not contact her either as her phone was switched off.  The reason, she was back home!
At the moment I gave up she called me.
That saved me a fortune, not that I mentioned it.
She has been coming home on the bus, found herself shaking, feeling a bit tight, and as the bus stopped at the surgery she went in.
The nurse practitioner, like all staff there, understood quickly, the doctor also and soon she was in an ambulance waiting at the hospital.  An accident got in before her but after tests, more tests and more proddings the doctor decided she had a small 'blip' interfering with the heart.  It had passed, she could go and take lots of tablets with her.
She was quite happy with the well cared for experience, her grandchildren, all adults (they say) were a wee bit shaken however.  So was I for a minute.  The cost of travelling up there for a funeral is enormous!  
That phone might leave me shaking soon also.

Saturday Drivel

Brexit meant so much to me this day that I ignored it completely till now.  While thousands marched peacefully through London in a proper protest MP's were to debate Boris's absurd new deal with the EU.  Of course this deal is a sham, Boris wishes either to leave with 'No Deal' as his paymasters wish, or not leave at all as his sense dictates.  The word 'sense' in this must not be misconstrued!
The banners flew, the placards, often absurd, none made by the 'Socialist Workers Party' who make placards for so many demonstrations, and EU flags were flown revealing the depth of determination to seek a second Referendum.  
Parliament ignored them.
Instead the MP's voted by 322 to 306 forcing Boris to ask for a 'Brexit delay.'  His answer is to ignore this and come back again on Monday to seek a vote on his 'Deal' Bill.  Hopefully it will become a 'Dear Bill' instead.

I shook myself awake and ventured out and about around eleven.  There was a need to investigate mobile phones and boots.  My phone died, I think 'Virgin' clammed up on it as at 'Pay-as-you-go' I hardly used it and they probably thought I was dead.  I had only used it once in 2 years.  However they are handy for emergencies, which I have never met, and I wondered if I required one that gave me more, cheaply, just in case.  Naturally I have no idea about such things.  Does the internet come with the package?  Is it separate?  How much does it cost?  Simm?  Anyway on the way round I ventured into Tesco to look at the shelf of phones on display.  Naturally there were none!  Instead all was kids Christmas presents, row after row!  So I made my way to Tesco's boots and searched the styles and prices, both were repugnant to me!
I came home.

  
Yesterday I cleaned out some stuff from under the bed.  The boxes full of cash appear not to be there which I thought unfortunate.  There was several pairs of old boots, all with holes in the soles, one of which had disintegrated while lying there covered in dust.  These filled a black rubbish bag and left the building.  That is why new boots are required.  I hate buying shoes, no matter where you look there is not something you wish for and then they do not have them in your size and then the size is not as stated!  Shoe sizes in Bangladesh or Romania are not the same as in Nottingham it appears. The rain may return before I am successful.

On my return I found the second new neighbour attempting to fill the flat with household items.  I say he was doing it but the impression I got was that Dad was doing the hard bits.  I made my salute and hid while they banged and thumped their way up and down stairs.  New neighbours are always a problem.  The new ones downstairs have been quiet so far, they appear to be early 20's and work from home, drug smuggling I suspect, and the couple next door appear young, possibly too young to be next to me!  My quiet peaceful existence may be in doubt.  However I have met them all, parents today being normal and offering decency, probably they have got rid of the brats!  We shall see how they go.  However I reckon it takes them about £67 each a week to pay for this, I hope they both have good jobs.