WHEN
THE WORK HAS NOT BEEN SAVED.
It happened twice in succession yesterday.
I
had wrestled the blog back from the cat Shadow (not without a show of
petulance on his part), made a cup of coffee, weathered a "do
the odd job because that's more important than any keyboard"
session, acted as elderly retainer for a still lofty cat and we had
been paid an unexpected visit by daughter Roz, who is currently
suffering from shingles, poor love (there's no justice). She arrived
as usual with Buddy (a mad puppy who is thankfully
sane enough to avoid the cat Shadow).
As you will have gathered, I had saved nothing: not even the heading. Power came back minutes later.
Damage done.
I gently cursed, switched on the computer, tried to remember what I'd been writing, couldn't, began again. I had typed in the heading and a few unsaved lines when the second power cut came.
It lasted...and lasted...and lasted.
Eventually we were back to second world war neighbourliness. Me on the phone to Derek next door and Derek next door on the phone to the nice lady on the other side of him and so on, until the nice lady on the other side got in touch with 'the electric' who said we'd be back in the warm world again by 5.30 pm.
We were. Bit sooner actually.
Too late for any more ironing, though, or for me to summon up the blog spirit again.
I spent the evening watching our magically alive television (Italians gaining a draw when one of them trips over his own feet in the penalty area? What a surprise) and went to bed with a smile on my face after experiencing again Lars Vogt's superb performance of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.1 (found it on Sky Arts) and Pekka Kuusisto's joyful rendition of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto at the 2016 Proms: both courtesy of Den's 'erase these at your peril' television recordings.
A good end to the day.
Finally, I recently learned that Buddy has been letting next door know how unhappy he is when Roz is away from home.
I said he had better come here when she is at work then. He can settle on the chair in the conservatory when I am at work there, I suggested.
Huh!
Today, for the first time in a year or more, the cat Shadow spent the morning asleep in that very chair. He's back there now. It's not as if he hasn't got the above settee, too. Little perisher.
I'd swear he hears everything we say.
It happened twice in succession yesterday.
I
had wrestled the blog back from the cat Shadow (not without a show of
petulance on his part), made a cup of coffee, weathered a "do
the odd job because that's more important than any keyboard"
session, acted as elderly retainer for a still lofty cat and we had
been paid an unexpected visit by daughter Roz, who is currently
suffering from shingles, poor love (there's no justice). She arrived
as usual with Buddy (a mad puppy who is thankfully
sane enough to avoid the cat Shadow). 
After
they departed, with my Leader sitting at the ironing board, Shadow
surveying the dining room with a 'where's that bloody dog now?' look
in his eyes and me blithely settled at my desk with
the heading and first few lines of a post on the screen, there was suddenly no computer, no ironing, no
electric kettle, no telephone, no television, no anything.
The
power had gone. As you will have gathered, I had saved nothing: not even the heading. Power came back minutes later.
Damage done.
I gently cursed, switched on the computer, tried to remember what I'd been writing, couldn't, began again. I had typed in the heading and a few unsaved lines when the second power cut came.
It lasted...and lasted...and lasted.
Eventually we were back to second world war neighbourliness. Me on the phone to Derek next door and Derek next door on the phone to the nice lady on the other side of him and so on, until the nice lady on the other side got in touch with 'the electric' who said we'd be back in the warm world again by 5.30 pm.
We were. Bit sooner actually.
Too late for any more ironing, though, or for me to summon up the blog spirit again.
I spent the evening watching our magically alive television (Italians gaining a draw when one of them trips over his own feet in the penalty area? What a surprise) and went to bed with a smile on my face after experiencing again Lars Vogt's superb performance of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.1 (found it on Sky Arts) and Pekka Kuusisto's joyful rendition of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto at the 2016 Proms: both courtesy of Den's 'erase these at your peril' television recordings.
A good end to the day.
Finally, I recently learned that Buddy has been letting next door know how unhappy he is when Roz is away from home.
I said he had better come here when she is at work then. He can settle on the chair in the conservatory when I am at work there, I suggested.
Huh!
Today, for the first time in a year or more, the cat Shadow spent the morning asleep in that very chair. He's back there now. It's not as if he hasn't got the above settee, too. Little perisher.
I'd swear he hears everything we say.
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