Today I have mainly been updating my web-site, clearing up around the house and . . . I think that's about it, really. Collected a parcel from Royal Mail (a cute little USB key-ring sized, solid-state drive). Erm . . . oh, and we've been trying to keep A****** awake throughout most of today as he insisted on keeping us up throught (throught? What is 'throught'?) large chunks of last night. Dunno if this is gonna work, but it's kinda funny. I think the poor thing was just a bit freaked at having been moved around from house to house. I say that, but it seems whenever we think we've worked out what's bugging him, something else comes along.

Look how sad I am - putting in pictures of my USB thingy (it is quite sweet though, with its freaky rainbow colours and mirrored surface). I've made a little bit of script that means when that thing is plugged into my main computer it goes, "Oh, hello. I guess you wanna update the WEP keys then," which it then does, putting copies of all of those on the USB drive. The USB drive can then be removed and plugged into the lap-top in order to connect up to the network. Sweet. I'm not saying, "Check me out, aren't I clever doing that?" but rather, "Aren't computers clever, allowing all this to occur?"

I think these are the insides of my computer, illuminated by UV light. Something like that. We've given Archie the freedom of the house, hoping he might find better things to do with his time. Hence, I was wondering, "What is that noise upstairs?" but it was just Archie running around, attacking miscellaneous bits of plastic. I took a few a pictures whilst I was there. I seem to have deleted all the good ones. Ah well. Erm . . . hello? Why is 'The Sky at Night' on the Paramount Comedy channel? What's that all about?

Oh joy. The wireless connection just went whilst I was working on my next assignment (that was yesterday evening), so I turn the computer off and think, "Well, whatever. I'll go to bed then. What's that dripping sound?" for there is a dripping sound coming from . . . somewhere. Eventually I think to look under the sink. Hmmmm. There's the problem. The sink, that had previously been full with luke-warm soapy water, has slowly been leaking into the storage space below. Joy joy joy. I clean it up, make a mental note to buy a new U-bend from Wilkinson's and go to bed. Hmmmm. Only there's a small child, lying in a cot, in my bedroom, screaming and crying. The child has eaten all he can eat, has a clean nappy, clean clothes, is warm and must be tired. "Hmmm, I know - I'm really tired, nothing's really bothering me, all's right with the world . . . better start crying then."

Oh, I didn't need a U-bend after all . . . just a plug-hole and the bit that connects the plug-hole to the U-bend. No pictures of A****** at the moment. He's got puss-filled spots all over his chin. No-one wants to see that. The week beginning August 22nd is going to be party week. M**** and A****** will be in Lancaster (my god - I'll be able to sleep for more than four hours at a time). Rav and Walter, if you're reading this, Thursday night? 25th August? Leeds? Or indeed anyone else . . .

Hello again. I don't think I have much news. Just trying to get my university assignment done right now.

went for a walk at some point this afternoon. Here's some pictures. Fascinating.

How weird's that, eh? A couple of weeks ago, I think to myself, just before falling asleep that night, "Blimey, I haven't had a flying dream for ages. Maybe they've stopped now that A****** has appeared," although I don't really see any logic there. But that night, I had a dream that I was learning to fly . . . just a few feet off the ground, and then back down again. Next night, I was fine, and flying all over the place, back to normal. And it's been fine ever since. I spend several weeks not dreaming of unassisted flying and then when I do . . . I need practice to get back into the swing of things.

some stuff has been happening recently, I'm sure of it . . . I'm just busy right now, you see. Ah yes. The obligatory baby-in-bath photo. Something to embarrass him by in later years. A****** has already developed a habit of gripping my hand/thumb for dear life when in water. Not surprising, really, as M**** once thought A****** would have some kind of automatic holding-of-breath mechanism if he got submerged in water momentarily. He didn't, as we learnt.

Blah, blah, blah. What on earth is Wonderfalls, and why should I care? Crazy people. Crazy, crazy, crazy. I have updated previous days with some boring photos. Go and look at those, if you want. You don't have to. You could go for a walk. I don't mind. I'm going to iron a shirt now. Then I'm going to bed, but I might read a bit of The Hobbit first, as I've nearly finished it. And I'll probably clean my teeth before going to bed. Oh . . . and A****** might need feeding again. So that's me done. BYE!

intentionally left blank. it's a bit too late now anyway. Oh . . . alright then. Attended an interview for a permanent job this morning (results of which to be released on Friday) and in the evening I've been feeding a co-axial from one floor of my house to another (how strange, the spaces between walls and floors/ceilings). So yeah . . . that's about it really. Oh, and some painter/decorator guy came round for some quotation to strip a load of wallpaper, do a bit of wallpapering and painting. The quotation would suggest he didn't really want the job. Fair enough.