There. Done. Too late.
I’m becoming more and more like the common weblogger.
I’ve registered at updatefu.com and weblogs.com…
Stephanie Booth's online ramblings
There. Done. Too late.
I’m becoming more and more like the common weblogger.
I’ve registered at updatefu.com and weblogs.com…
I flew to England on Thursday, and went to see the house I spent the first two years of my life in.
I could remember the street from my last visit, when I was eight, but not a single thing apart from that.
The neighbours were still the same, and remembered my family. A very sweet old lady had bought the house when my parents moved out, and she was still living there. She invited us in, served us tea and cake.
I couldn`t help but compare myself to Akirno. He is now the age I was when I moved to Switzerland. Will he retain no memories at all of his life in India, and of the eight months I spent living in his family?
I hardly go on the net these days. I’m overbooked, for one thing, and I don’t have a computer – for another.
I’m starting to miss India a little. Probably because Somak, Aleika, Akirno and Cali are coming over next week-end on their way to Birmingham.
I’m seriously considering merging the music section with this main weblog. As far as I can see, it doesn’t really make any sense to keep it separate.
Maybe one of these next weeks when I find a computer and a little time…
Il est toujours plus facile de condamner que de comprendre.
Bagha insists on drinking water out of the toilets.
I’ve tried everything, but all he does is tell me that if we use drinking water to flush our toilets, why shouldn’t he drink it?
It is always easier to condemn than to understand.
I have hopefully managed to fix the style sheet glitches. The other day, I had the chance to have a glimpse of my site through Netscape 4.5 on a 14-inch monitor.
Terrifying experience.
Two days ago I lost my cellphone: life is possible without one – I have come back from hell to let you know.
Bagha discovered his new garden yesterday evening. The first thing he did was chase a neighbouring cat up a tall tree in a concert of noises I never imagined he could produce.
Apart from that, everything is well. Maybe I’m going to be able to go to judo regularly, unpack all my boxes, go through my 700+ slides of India, buy a computer and some furniture, and stop bumping into people because I try to avoid them by sticking to the “wrong” (understand: Indian) side of the corridor.
I’m moving… I have moved.
Bagha is exploring the new flat, which is full of boxes, and spends quite a lot of time on the balcony observing neighbouring cats. He grunts, sniffs, swallows and his fur stands slightly on end.
No computer, no music, no cupboards, no table, no shelves. Way to go before it looks like “home”.
Oooops… I’ve messed up the style sheets a bit – will be OK soon though, promise!