It was warm today (at least in the sun) and Bolly decided to actually go out into the garden and stay there for more than five minutes. A first for 2009.
Like a groundhog leaving its burrow, this is a clear harbinger of a wondrous spring.
Um – Tweet. Please note that Peacockshock has a new feature, thanks to Franklin the wondrous internet elf of Essex. It’s a Twitterfeed, to the right of the page, just below the lovely Bolly in her Burberry hat.
I’ve been tweeting a lot on Twitter this week, as I’ve been on the move and running round London with my BlackBerry. I suspect it’s something to do with feeling isolated during a very peripatetic few days and needing some kind of affirmation and connection with a virtual village.
That probably explains why so many artistes and celebs do it – notably Stephen Fry, who recently tweeted to the world while stuck in a lift.
His view on the tweeting mania that’s producing 2.5 million tweets a day –
I love how Twitter confirms my all-too-often assaulted belief that most humans are kind, curious, knowledgeable, tolerant and funny. The absurd constraints of the 140-character tweet seem oddly to bring out the best in wit, insight and observation.
A lot of my friends tweet.
Loz – a famous composer and genius – is currently tweeting very wittily about writing his new musical.
Typical Loztweets –
finishing off the new version of setting the 5 eBay values. ‘We believe everybody’s basically good’
this evening’s job- a beat track with sounds of pinging glass and sampled swedish singers
distracted by a song for Akiko the performance artist inspired by the Osaka Expo theme tune
He lives in Manchester. Such things are normal there.
Meanwhile in deepest Hove, my psychologist friend Aric has been accused this week of arguing that Twitter can make you ill
He’s been all over the press and caused outrage and much ruffling of plumage among the twittering classes. I’m about to phone him about it and will report back.
If you’re not familiar with Twitter (bless – how quaint you must be), here’s a quick guide to the language of the Twittersphere –
Twitterhood – the group of people who elect to see your tweets
Re-Tweet – someone sends you a tweet that you like so you re-tweet it on your account for your followers to read
Twoosh – this occurs when you make a tweet of exactly 140 characters
Twitpic – an application that enables you to take a picture on your mobile then zip it straight to all your followers via Twitter
Tweet-up – when Twitterers arrange to meet face-to-face, and presumably are so busy tweeting about it that they completely ignore each other
I’m grateful to the good people of Hertford North station for providing a pedestrian sign (with user-friendly arrows) on platform three this morning.
The sign very helpfully warned me not to walk through a pile of soil (see pic).
Instead, it offered me the option of walking round it, either to the (1) left or (2) right.
The great apostrophe debate has now made it into letters page of The Times.
One correspondent asked why we need them in print when we don’t use them in speech.
David Devore of London replied in today’s paper that we use ‘intonation, expression, gesture and context’ in speech. The first three are absent in print – hence the need for apostrophes to compensate. I agree.
And, by the way, I do wish people would stop writing CD’s, DVD’s and so on for plurals. No apostrophe necessary. It’s just CDs and DVDs.
By the fish counter in Waitrose today –
Small child – Mummy. I want fishies for supper.
Mummy – Good. What sort of fishies?
Small child – Madagascan crevettes.
It’s enough to make you want to defect to Asda.
As you probably know by now, the Great Bathroom Flood of 2009 subsided a few days ago and Boll and I had electricity again.
Then, in an odd twist, the condensation from Flood 1 caused Flood 2, which seeped into the electrics, so we had no lights again. It dried out though, and all was well.
But then, two days ago, there was an explosion in the fuse cupboard and all the lights blew again upstairs. This was caused by Flood 3 – totally unconnected to Floods 1 and 2.
My electrician (who may be moving in at this rate) said, ‘You’ve got snow up your pipes mate.’ A big blob of snow had apparently settled on my ‘hat’ – the chimney-like vent on the roof which the bathroom extractor fan blows out of. It had then melted and gone down into the electrical fan itself, blowing the upstairs lighting fuse. I’m now waiting for this to dry out and then we’ll have lights again.
Just as well I’ve been off this week. And the good news is that my electrician has fitted a brand spanking new fuse box with lots of plastic switches.
They’re fitting the new bathroom at the end of the month. Should be interesting.
Thank you to Jane for drawing my attention to another apostrophe atrocity, peculiar to Hertford.
St Andrew Street (see pix below) is St Andrew Street. It is not, I repeat not, St Andrew’s Street. St Andrew didn’t go out and buy it, did he? This apostrophe is a dangerous, feral interloper, and appears in publicity leaflets and on official websites. Occasionally, they simply add an s, just to annoy me. Even the MoD get it wrong on their sites.
We must put a full stop to it now.