Jonathan: I’ve been experimenting with technology that allows me to use social media more efficiently (though sometimes I hear an internal voice grumbling that the most efficient thing I could do is dispense with it entirely. What’s that Denise? You mean it was you all along?). One of the outcomes of that is that I’ve got a daemon (a computer term now fallen out of vogue, otherwise I wouldn’t use it) that is rummaging around in the archives of this blog and feeding out little nuggets to other platforms (oops, sorry!) – that is to facebook, blogger and such like. (Yes I know, I need to fine tune the frequency and other settings). I was working on it until late last night, then forgot about it this morning. Denise had an appointment at the medical centre, and whilst I was waiting in the car I browsed through the huge collection of ‘on-board’ music, and I came across an album I’ve not listened to for a two-three years – Five Days in July by the Canadian band Blue Rodeo. I recommend Five Days in May and Bad Timing (though ask me another time and …). Anyway, back home, I checked in at my desk and remembered to see what that daemon had been up to – whether it had been working at all. Well indeed it had. And what had it just published a digest of? My blog from August 2010 entitled “Blue Rodeo”: I’d been listening for the first time to Five Days in July. Here it is. [Thanks again to Tia Nagi!]
Jonathan: Jiggered, that’s what I am. Complete new-build of the Hebridean Woolshed website has taken a huge amount of time, concentration, attention to detail, learning new things (mostly by trial and error it seems) and endless rounds of revisions and corrections. Sat at a computer for hours on end under such stress is not good for the mind, body or spirit, and indeed the state of my health right now proves the point. The weather doesn’t help: blanket cloud rolling from the horizon far across the Atlantic on an icy north-westerly wind that saps the heat and hope from the very soul. The poor sheep look at me in desperation: they’ve got their precious lambs to feed, and without light and warmth the grass simply isn’t growing: only the cost of animal feed is! For heaven’s sake this is not just May, it is very nearly June! By now the solar hot water system would normally be producing so much hot water we’d be having long hot showers morning and night just to use it up a bit, but instead we’re still lighting the wood-burning stove in the evenings. This is supposed to be the season of vitality and hope, and insteady we’re all of us just feeling competely jiggered.
Jonathan: PBS : Porridge Brain Syndrome. It’s what my brain is like after much of the past month or more – and almost continously for the past 60hrs or so – concentrating on website rebuilding. It’s very demanding work. There’s the ‘structural’ design, the aesthetic design, the user interface, the resources to support these, before I even think about the actual content. There’s photographic work with cameras tripods and props of all sorts from wine glasses to gates and candles to to carpets. There’s glyphs and icons, widgets and snippets, pop-ups and downloads, scripts, databases, APIs and Keys. Some of the bits of the old sites can be salvaged for re-use … or maybe not, and there’s a huge amount of new material to source. The worst of it all is getting various networking apps to work: Correction – the worst is trying to understand why they aren’t working! However progress is being made, and although there’s still unfinished work in places (there’s a few cul-de-sac pages!) , I have just now taken the perhaps rash step of redirecting all remaining domains in each domain group to the new site. So the following are now fully offically live, and the old sites decommissioned –
- http://biggarden.scot (reminder: you’re reading it!)
Well it’s now long after midnight and that’s the second night in a row (last night – this morning – I gave up at about 2am) and as I’m seeing double I think I should cast off my boiler suit and go to bed. Or at least just go to bed. Hopefully I’ll have recovered sufficiently by tomorrow morning that Denise won’t serve my brains up with hot milk muttering something about Quacker Oafs.
Oichde mhath a’ shibhse!