Journal Entries

Grumbling. The week needs 12 days.

I wish, I wish... that time was in abundance
That vendors would deliver what they are paid to do
That travel were for free and in no time at all
That I could get all the sleep that I want
That I would take some time now and then to go swimming - the only form of excercise that I can stand
That my Dear Husband did not have to commute and have silly hours at work
That we had more time and energy to really talk, rather than just making the necessary plans to make the logistics of the week fit together

I am so frustrated at work. I have spent the better part of the last two years specifying and testing prototypes for a major bit of bespoke software. The prototype was fairly good to be a quick hack, but when the final, proper go live version was delivered, it was so full if holes, errors, misspellings and data integrity issues that we just can't accept it. And as a result, I travel every fortnight to Loughborough, batter my brain to find every place that says that we did indeed specify what to do, and they just messed up.

And organising for kids pickup from preschool, school activities, and whatnot just makes me tired. I want my life back!

I've had such a good time in this project - I've learned so much, the team is such a great lot of people, and I am proud to have delivered good documentation. But now I feel it is just falling apart.

I wish it was done and over with.


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Latest reply: Sep 16, 2003

Little Old Henriette and the timing of the Stockholm meet up

Once upon a time, a young couple went interrailing in Europe, the way that many young did in the 80's.

After crashing some grown up (married, small children) friends and neighbours who had rented a house in Bretagne for a week, and staying a night or two with them, we stayed not one but two nights at a hotel by Gare StLazare, Paris. "Patron" was so amazed he hollered at the maids for several minutes that we were staying. I suspect that his other guests paid by the hour...

Once we had seen a bit of Paris we decided to go to Italy, and entered a car of the train towards Rome. The signs on the doors clearly said ROME, I am certain to this day.

Somewhere in the alps, the train stopped at a station, there was a lot of talking in the loudspeakers, and most people left our car. But we had read the signs for Rome, and sat peacefully. Until the end station was announced. And it clearly was not Rome. This was Bourg St Maurice. Very pretty. Very quaint. But not Rome.

So we spent the day, and took the evening train back to where we had missed the change earlier. And shared the ride with a sweet little lady. She spoke no English, and my French barely gets us food from a menu, my husbands (brand new boyfriend then...) French is barely above detection limit. But we spoke, and traded adresses, and parted as friends.

My dear and I spent some hours on a station floor (the way Interrailers are supposed to) and continued our way to Rome.

Over the years we exchaged letters in primitive pidgin French (ours) and flourishing poetic French (Henriettes) and recounted wedding and childrens births, and travels and house moves for eachother.

Last year, we got a late New Years greeting, asking us 'just WHEN are you coming to the south of France?' So we went in April, and fell in love with Provence like tourists are supposed to, and met up with Henriette again. She still speaks no English, our French has barely improved and we had a wonderful time toghether.

This year, as Henriette and I had had our birthday (same day...) we got in touch again, and she took us up on our invitation and is coming in August! And she wants to see Stockholm, so I will take her there, and that is why I suggested the 9-10 August!

Another thing - over the years, my dear husband and I got the habit of talking about Henriette as Madame, in the way you would say Grandmother or Mummy, so the tounge still slips now and then, which is quite embarassing when talking to her smiley - blush

So now you know the long story behind the meetup date of 9 August!


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Latest reply: Jun 5, 2003

Trying out Brunel

Hmm, I must be old and conservative. When I joined the Guide, it defaulted to Alabaster, and I think I still like that. There were discussions on Classic Goo versus Alabaster, and I got the feeling that the purists liked Goo better. And here I am, coming back to Alabaster again and again, because it is gentler to my eye... smiley - online2long
Brunel is too loud for me. I'm sorry not to appreciate progress enough. Ho hum.


Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: May 6, 2003

Who's online...

I just noticed that the number of beings online doubled in some 20 minutes - on a sunday morning... Have we no lives? Need to get out of my pajamas and onto the pond for a bit of ice skating with the kids!


Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Feb 9, 2003

Rare occasions

...are when I get a moment (hour more likely) to lurk around the guide. Even less frequent the times when I actually join a conversation an chip in to say something. Only once in a blue moon do I get to reply when people actually read what I've typed. And never has it happened that I even started a proper guide entry.

Coming here soon induces more guilt about not being productive than joy of reading contributions from proper researchers.

I have had in mind to write something about why new drugs are so expensive (and I mean medicines, not "recreational" mindbenders), but laziness gets the better part of what's left when work, children and husband have got what I want to give them all.

Are there any more moms with careers out there?

Moping, sad,

Discuss this Journal entry [3]

Latest reply: Sep 8, 2002

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