[Previous entry: "Scraps of text"] [Next entry: "Sunday" ]
Linux, networks & Baz
8 April 2006
Two computers, four operating systems between them, and an internet connection that's on-again, off-again, depending on what I've screwed up this time. It's no way to live.
I went over to cable broadband because they said it was just instant-on with Linux, plug it in and there you go. Not if yr Linux distro doesn't recognise yr ethernet card, it isn't. I spent a weekend in Windows - yuck, spit - before my guru got me online in Linux on the new machine; and then after a couple of unsteady days I was trying to steady the ship and managed to turn it turtle instead, lost the connection altogether and can't get it back. For the moment, I've swapped the cable over to the other machine, which is frustrating (slow and a little backward) but functional.
Anyway, all of that is why I haven't been blogging for a week or so. I thought I'd be more regular, with broadband; maybe I will, when my broadband is regular. And/or when I don't have frantic deadlines. At the moment, my alarm goes off at six in the morning. It's an experiment; not entirely sure it's working (tho' I have written, oh, five thousand words in two and a half days, which ain't bad).
Right now, it's snowing, which means that the Idiot Boy is dashing from window to window, trying to assassinate snowflakes. He doesn't quite get the concept of glass, that whole look-don't-touch thing. For those who have been kindly asking about his welfare, he is eating like a train, thank you kindly, and consequently frantic with frustrated energies. He wants to be out in the world killing things, and in lieu of that he tries to disembowel me. Happily, he hasn't yet figured out where my bowels are; it's my arms that carry the scars. He bit Gail's nose last week, in sheer affection. Or hunger, possibly. When last weighed, he was a four-kilo cat; but he's eating enough for a six-kilo cat, and is always eager for more. Maybe he should be a six-kilo cat, and he's just working up to it; or maybe I'm just overfeeding him. How's a man to tell? He was gaunt, and now he's not, but he's not fat yet. That's all I know.
© Chaz Brenchley 2006
Reproduced here by permission of Chaz Brenchley, who asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.