Lexin

Gacked from venivincere.

Pick up the nearest book to you. Turn to page 45. The first sentence describes your sex life in 2012.

"Then dared their dread to draw its breath,/ and they found their feet in the fouléd earth,/ and bent they both their backs once more/ to their task of toil, for Túrin woke not." The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of the Children of Húrin.

So, not good news for me, really.

A few weeks ago I decided, in a fit of enthusiasm, to speed up my PC. The software I used stripped the driver from my onboard sound and rendered my computer silent other than the odd 'bip' when I press the wrong button.

I improved the shining hour this weekend by trying to get to the bottom of why it didn't work. This has driven me into the depths of the BIOS (which looks like no other BIOS I've ever encountered) and to distant websites to download the chipset drivers for the motherboard. For it is onboard sound, not a soundcard. I don't want a soundcard as that will mean me sitting on the floor, and anyway I don't think I have a slot left for one.

Even given all this, my computer is as silent as ever.

I give up. It'll have to stay silent until it is replaced, and who knows when that will be? Because I refuse to replace a perfectly good computer just because the sound doesn't work.

In other news

I turned up two pairs of trousers that were too long. I bought them weeks ago, but never got around to it, and replaced two buttons. I still have one button to go.

I've been having a very quiet time over the last few days, sometimes quiet because I'm actually asleep.

In between z's I've been catching up on reading the pile of unread books which had reached my knees. It's reminded me how much idiot characters annoy me - I don't suffer even fictional fools gladly. Latest example is a story where a Chicago cop and a Russian mafioso are having an affair, and in the book I'm reading they've so far had sex twice without advancing the plot one iota. Why? It's supposed to be a detective story - OK with porny leanings but even so.

Yesterday was good; I had breakfast with gloria1 then noodled about in a charity shop for a bit without buying anything and then made my way down to my hairdresser to see if he could see me and do something about my wild and woolly locks. He could if I was prepared to wait for a bit, so I went and had a coffee and when I came back he cut my hair. So I have a new coiffure for the New Year. Go me!

No sooner is my broadband mended than I fall down the stairs at the flat* and sprain my ankle. I was going in to work tomorrow, but will now work from home instead.

* I was taking my dead printer to put it out for the council to dispose of under the terms of the WEEE directive. Thus proving no good deed goes unpunished.

Now my printer's gone belly up. It's not worth getting it repaired at £60 (approx) and I know what's wrong with it and it's not something I can fix. So I buy a new one.

But I'd just got down to writing my Christmas cards and now only a very limited number of people will get a label. Gah!

My friend julianj2 copied a press notice to his friends (of which I'm one) from the RSPB reminding us all to feed the birds in the winter, and talking of cold snaps in the future.

One of his other friends sent him the comments below, which he forwarded to me in the hope that they would cheer me up a bit. Which they did.

What he wrote was this:

To add to what I e-mailed you earlier, my father and I are issuing our garden birds with the following conditions in accordance with current government codes and practices in order for them to receive full feeding benefits:

1. All garden birds are expected to work longer hours in the clearance of garden pests, i.e., slugs, most snails, any insects that they might find, even in and under winter conditions in order to receive issued full birdseed and fatball benefits.

2. As government research has shown that most garden birds are now living longer, they will now be expected to work in the garden for more years than previously required, also to receive feeding benefits, and if they expect to draw a full pension.

3. Garden birds who regularly use our garden for feeding purpose's, will be expected to show that they do indeed use our garden for feeding over those services provided by our neighbours. Any bird who cannot provide this evidence will have their feeding benefits withdrawn for a period of as little as three weeks or up to three months, as we see fit.

4. Garden birds that wish to feed in our garden must sign on at a local "Feeding Centre Plus" for them to receive full feeding benefits in our garden, and be able to prove that they are indeed needful of using our feeding services.

5. Any garden bird found to be abusing the services provided by us in any way, will have all their feeding benefits withdrawn, and disciplinary action may be taken.

6. Any bird that is taken back on after such action has been taken, and then goes on to repeat offend, will be dealt with extreme prejudice - i.e., they can and will be given over to the tender mercies of the local cats.

I'm sure you agree, that tells those scrounging birds!

Gacked from legionseagle who had it from raincitygirl. It's about AO3, which I also use just about every day.

Thank you.

Thank you to everyone who's ever written a line of code, fixed a bug, wrangled a tag, answered a support ticket.

Thank you to the back-end coders and thank you to the front-end coders.

Thank you to everyone who's ever brainstormed about what the archive might do, and thank you to everyone who's poured their hearts, souls, and spare time into trying to make the archive do all of those things and more.

I use the AO3 every day. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for building it for me and for everyone who uses it -- and for everyone who doesn't use it yet but might use it someday.

This archive isn't something to which fandom is entitled. It's a labor of love. You make the archive as your gift to fandom, and I appreciate that gift so, so much.

Even though it isn't finished yet. Even though it isn't perfect yet. It's still awesome, and your hard work is tremendous and admirable, and I just want to say thanks.

(Dear everyone else: if anything in this post resonates with you, feel free to signal-boost or repost.)

Isn't it weird how suspension of disbelief works?

I'll read just about any mpreg story Sherlock fandom can throw at me, and lap it all up. No problem with that at all. My brain just accepts it as if it's quite normal. Well, not quite - I prefer a quasi-scientific or medical explanation, but give me that and I'm yours for the duration.

I turn my rosy nose up, however, at a story where the premise is that characters A and B, in this case Mycroft and Lestrade but let's not get hung up on specifics, get drunk and end up married.

There probably are countries where a degree of sobriety is not required of parties in a marriage ceremony, where notification doesn't have to be made X weeks in advance or a special licence bought and where the marriage does not have to be conducted during normal hours of business in a building. But that is not where I live. The whole idea just makes me go 'tilt'.

When it comes down to it, I think this is a failing of my imagination and not the writer(s) ability, but it is odd.

I had an interesting weekend; I went up to see the Aged P. on Friday. She was in fine fettle for a woman confined to bed, but tried to tell me that up until her long stay in hospital last year, she'd been "quite spry".

Bollocks, mother dear. (I didn't tell her in quite those words.) I can remember back to Christmas 1997, which is just after Dad died, when she and I went on holiday to Benidorm and she was using two sticks to get around in the hotel and if we went out she was in a wheelchair which only just fit in the hotel lift. Not long afterwards she started to use a three wheeled walker and has just got weaker since. In short, she hasn't been 'spry' since about 1995.

Her memory's going a bit, too. She said she can't remember what Dad looked like – this despite the fact that there's a picture of him over the end of her bed, just where she can see him.

The Enid

On Saturday I travelled to Birmingham to see a band I've liked since the early 1980's called "The Enid".

I love The Enid to little tiny minty balls, and this concert totally lived up to expectations. It was at Birmingham Symphony Hall - which has painfully narrow seats for someone as fat as me but is a splendid venue in all other ways.

They had a full orchestra (the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra) and a full choir and a conductor who wasn't Robert John Godfrey. This meant that the music had a slightly different sound – it was interesting to hear it interpreted by someone else and with a wider range of instruments than one normally hears. At times the orchestra was in the background of the sounds, and sometimes it was right there at the forefront. I've signed up for the CD of the concert, which should be interesting.

RJG didn't look well at all; I gathered from my friend Dave (who'd arranged the tickets – thanks Dave!) that Robert had had an accident of some kind and had broken his leg. As a result, he was on crutches. But it wasn't just that he was on crutches that made him look unwell – he looked grey even from where we were sitting.

It also had Alan Moore dressed as Dumbledore reading a poem about the history of the gay liberation movement – which could have done with being about five minutes shorter. Honestly, it did slightly outstay its welcome, as a couple of the audience pointed out somewhat vociferously towards the end. As for why it was there, perhaps curiously Dave and I both had a similar thought about there always being a part in a show for the producer's girlfriend. I mention this because it was an odd thing that we both thought of the quote, not because I intend to insinuate anything about anyone connected with the concert.

In short, brilliant concert; loved it to death but could have done with less of the talky bloke in the robe.

One of those moments when you know you did something the wrong way round.

I spent about an hour polishing a pair of ankle boots. I don't normally polish my shoes so this was something unusual for me.

I'd just got them to a nice shine when I turned one over...to find a hole in the sole.

Gah!

I should have checked before I started. I have got a replacement pair on order, but they'll be a few more days yet and then have to be worn in - is there anyone who can just buy shoes, and wear them without a huge fight with their feet?

I've never been able to buy cheap shoes, the wearing in process just doesn't make it worth it.