Time

Sorry for the lack of posts in the last couple of weeks.  All is well, but both the desire and the opportunity to blog stuff have been lacking.  More on that another time.

Anyways ...

Found this on Reddit and thought I would share.

Time doesn't exist. Clocks exist. Time is just an agreed construct. We have taken distance (one rotation of the earth, and one orbit of the sun), divided it up into segments, and given those segments labels. While it has its uses, we have been programmed to live our lives by this construct as if it were real. We have confused our shared construct with something that is tangible and have thus become its slave. 

I have taken to leaving my watch on the bedside table recently.  If I need to know the exact time (for getting to work on time, mainly), I look for a clock. But for most of the day, and night, I seem to get by quite well without knowing exactly how many minutes before or after the hour it is. I eat, I sleep, I work, and so far the world hasn't ended. Time can be a tyrant.

Is this blog spamming you?

Recently, I have started to get a large amount of commercial spam in my inbox, which are redirected comments from this blog.  The recent post 'Whitesands' especially has attracted a lot of unwanted attention from the spambots. I am reviewing and deleting around 20 comments a day.  I know they are not appearing on the blog, as Blogger's spam filters are fairly effective, so thus far they are only an inconvenience to me - Unless You Know Better.

I'm very reluctant to reinstate that awful Captcha thing for all comments, as I know what a PITA it is from commenting elsewhere.  As long as it's only me that suffers the inconvenience I don't mind too much. But if it's bothering readers I will have to think again.

I generally request follow-up comments to be emailed to me whenever I comment on someone else's blog, and I have been getting a lot of spam comments from two other blogs in particular - JuliaM's Ambush Predator and Woman On A Raft. It would appear that event though the spam doesn't appear in the blog, the email notification system is working before the filter rather than after it.

If this is happening to you,  please let me know either here or by email and I will consider reinstating the dreaded Captcha.  I don't want to do this, but if it's upsetting my loyal readership (thanks, both of you) then I will have a think about it.

Thank you.

Whitesands

After a couple of weeks of lousy weather, I have taken a few days off and on Friday we were blessed with a superb October day.  Cool-to-cold-ish, but sunny and dry.  Anna hadn't been out for a while, so we got in the car and tootled off to St Davids for a spot of pre-Christmas-visit shopping and a nice lunch out.

I almost wore a cardigan (1).

We had to wait a while for the shops to re-open after lunch (St Davids is like that), so we drove to the nearby beach of Whitesands for a look at the sea.  The sky was stunning.

(1) No I didn't.

Guys and Gals

How's about this, then, guys and gals?
Now then, now then, now then.
And that weird yodelling thing he did.
Weird.

I met Jimmy Savile several times while working in Leeds (I was a hospital porter for a while), but only spoke to him once.  It was coming up to my Mum's 70th birthday, and my Dad and I (being lousy cooks) had ordered her a special cake from the local bakery.  It was to be decorated with an image of Guisborough Priory, which was the backdrop to all of their wedding photographs, and had a special significance to Mum.  We took a wedding photo to the bakery, they said they could do it, and a week later we went up to collect it.

As we were paying for it, into the shop burst Jimmy Savile and a young lady of about (I would guess) 20 years old.  He was in the usual ghastly nylon tracksuit, and she was wearing very little, considering it was October in the North of England.  Short shorts, a halter top and stacked sandals, if I remember correctly.  He did all the 'what's all this then' business, and when we explained he asked - no, ordered - the girl to go next door to the newsagent and get a birthday card.  He asked my Mum's name, wrote the card, and signed it with the usual 'Jimmy $avi£e' flourish.  Then he was off to another shop.  Working the dates back, this would have been early October in 1987, and JS would have been 60 years old.  He certainly seemed to have plenty of energy.  The girl seemed totally in awe of him, and obeyed his instructions instantly, but there was little affection between them.  I remember wondering at the time what the relationship between them could have been.  Paid assistant, young niece, friend, lover?  None of them quite seemed to fit.

I found the birthday card when I was clearing out my Mum's flat.  I still have it somewhere.  I don't think it will be going on eBay any time soon, though.

F650GS - first impressions

I've had the mini-GS almost a month now, so perhaps it is time for a brief review.

First of all, I am happy with it.  The Yamaha was getting to the point where money needed spending on it (tyres knackered if not illegal, chain ditto) so the GS has taken over commuting duties.  It is living exactly where it is in this photo, uncovered, while the Yam has a waterproof overcoat and is quietly relaxing about six feet behind it. (Yesterday we had a brief sunny spell in the afternoon, so I whipped off the cover and took it for a short but athletic blast round the lanes.  It started first press of the button and ran well, so no sulks for being ignored.)

Compared to the Sprint, the GS is ... well, totally different, and no comparison could be very meaningful.  It is the comparison with the XT that I am most interested in.  What I wanted was a kind of super-XT, one that retained the virtues and character of the Yam while addressing some of its shortcomings.  In that, I think it is a success.

It is faster, by a small but useful amount.  Where the XT is happy at 60, strained at 70 and struggling madly at 75, the GS will pull along at 80 quite happily.  I've seen 90 on the clock sitting bolt upright (remember, I have only commuted on it so far) and there was more to come.  Where there is a big difference is in the low-down torque.  The best way to make the Yam go is to launch it fast and short-shift until you are at a cruise.  Big revs get you nowhere - wide throttle openings are the key to rapid progress.  With the GS it is the reverse: let the revs build quickly, keep it over 4,000 rpm, and it lifts its skirts and motors along very nicely.  To be honest, I prefer the instant shove and huge engine braking of the XT, but the GS is so much more civilised that perhaps the trade-off is worth it - certainly for a longer journey.

Comfort, now I have the taller seat, is good, and it's really quite a pleasant ride.  It's quiet, a little inoffensive, and just gets on with the job.  Handling is rather strange compared to the XT, but the built-in luggage is a blessing.

There's more to say here, but I am at work and things are starting to happen around me.  The day team will be here in a minute and I mustn't be found bloggerating.

More in duke horse.