I’m thinking of consolidating my three WordPress blogs into one. There’s a snag, though in that the size is greater than that which can be handled by the WordPress backup/recover process so, although you can download a copy in WordPress format, you can’t do much with it. Not even convert it to basic html.
I shall suss it out, though, see if I don’t. I’m in need of a good solid winter project. I shall do it in such a way as not to interfere with this current volume, though, so there’s no need for anyone to worry about it until I’ve finished. And hopefully not even then. ’Seamless integration’ we use to call it back when I spoke jargon as well as plain English.
Yesterday was another lovely late summer day, with oodles of sunshine and blue skies. Here in Wales it’s forecast to last well into next week, and isn’t that a lovely thought. Heaven knows we’ve had our share of rain. I’d like a nice dry autumn and winter; I can manage the cold if it comes along but cold and wet is enough to get me reaching for the travel brochures. I can’t do travel of course, not while we’re blessed with Dolly’s company and although I could find the funds for a professional house/cat sitter, that’d mean I’d lose the time with Dolly as she ages so magnificently. She does it so well. An example to us all.
A nearly empty cupboard obliged me to venture out to Swansea and Sainsbury’s late yesterday afternoon and a nice, sunny little drive it was, too. Until some idiot decided to road rage me as I turned right for the Swansea turn-off. Such language! Such violent gesticulation! I did not respond of course and the last I saw of him in his ugly black car was as he burnt rubber from the traffic lights off in the direction of Briton Ferry and Port Talbot.
What can you do in such situations but refuse to respond, sit quietly, and go about your journey in a sensible manner? It did upset me, though, and the thought that one day he’ll get his comeuppance from someone who will not tolerate such behaviour was not much consolation.
Driving these days is not really much pleasure. When, as a reasonably mild-mannered man, I find myself hoping that another road-user will shortly wrap his car round a concrete pillar, I’m obliged to feel that the end of my driving days is in sight. When Graham’s with me in the car I feel much more happy about it all but on my own, I increasingly feel that I’m on the wrong planet.
Hey ho. By the time I’d had my evening wine, and my dinner, the memory of the event had faded away to the level that I can cope with it. Can’t help but wish there’d been an unmarked traffic police car there to sort the blighter out.
It’s the way of the world now, I suppose, and nothing much to be done about it.
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on the garden path
a robin redbreast strutting–
beating the bounds
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