Happy Easter! (Insert alternative holiday as appropriate)
I'm typing this on Easter Sunday, after a relatively sleepless night. For reasons not terribly clear to me, Greek Cypriots go bananas with bangers after late night mass on Easter Saturday night. It's a celebration of the festival, and probably the fact that they can eat meat again. Today is truly a feasting day. To the extent that hospital admissions for overeating skyrocket. I'm all for it. Crack on, I say.
Charlie, the Jack Russell, on the other hand, is terrified by bangs. He becomes restless, seeking sanctuary on our pillows, or under our duvet. Perpetual movement seems to comfort him. It's not quite so comforting for those trying to sleep, like Mrs L and I, or Spice, dog number one, the Cyprus poodle. Therefore, it's bedlam. Bang! Whimper, shuffle, tuts, harumphs and growls.
Still, Christos Anesti! And all that.
Writing
The Donald continues to sew discord and hatred wherever he turns his putrid gaze. Fun fact, tariffs were reversed as bonds began to drop (one would expect tariffs to push bonds higher), and guess who was holding a lot of bonds himself? Oh - and I played Padel.
Stuart Lennon
The William Hannah Planna...(I thinks it's Planner, but I love the way Brad Dowdy says it.)
Stuart Lennon
Shopping
I await some deliveries once the extended weekend is over and the hangovers eased. I have a padel stick, bat, racket or paddle arriving, with a matching bag, of course. My desire to be less American in my shopping means that I've had to order books - as in things with paper and typing. I'm trying a service from the UK, but I fear things will not work out. I ordered five books, and it seems each will be sent individually, by regular mail. That will take forever, and cost me multiple trips to the post shack to collect them myself. I shall investigate a book shop in the big city, although parking there is a pain in the...you know.
I have some ink on the way from the mighty Cult Pens. No, I don't need any more, but you can't really have too many good inks, can you?
Surfing
My journey with the Tuxedo laptop and Linux continues. This week, I discovered that installing a working version of Signal will not automatically eliminate the non-working version, and that sods law dictates that I will invariably open the wrong one. Fortunately, Phil came to my rescue, gently pointing out that uninstalling shouldn't be beyond even my capabilities.
I've migrated tasks to Todoist - which has a native Linux application.
Online, I've been taking joy in reading everywhere of all the tech toadies who payed money to Trump, kissed his arse and are now watching him decimate their companies with his mad cap grifting. Karma, baby, karma. Here's one good example.
