Reggie Thomson’s Diary

I wonder what the broken link was - perhaps something in my diaries. Also, I have no idea why I went down to the bank. Ah! No, I didn’t. I think this was about the problems of my account. It seems that transfers from the Halifax web saver account can take a week, while sending money to Barclaycard (which doesn’t need to be paid off until 4th July) goes out of my account immediately.

I can’t recall why the rain got a mention today. Was it particularly wet? I had to buy another adaptor for the TV system. Then I drilled the hole for the socket. I’ve got dual sockets in the hope that if cable TV is installed, I can use the spare one.

Photopoints seems to be struggling with the issues of validity of points. I noticed that IceRock had complained in the forums about the preponderance of 4s and 5s. More people seem to be switching to the CO (Comments Only) option. Oscar has wisely recognised that there are some who are interested in points and comments, and others who want points and critiques. I wonder if it will be possible to get people to choose the category correctly?

I decided to stay at home and clean up before Shan arrived. She sent me an email last night, saying that she was interested to read my diaries on the days when she is mentioned. I replied: “I’m not sure frankness is a good quality in a diary. My photographs are never frank. I always ignore everything that is ugly in my search for beauty. Maybe I should be less frank in my diaries and wait until I can think of positive ways to change things that are ugly. ”

Shan arrived by car, which I understand she shares with one or two other people. It sounds like a good arrangement to me. I helped to put some of her belongings upstairs. I was going to put the TV socket in, but then thought it would be too noisy on a peaceful Sunday afternoon. Instead, we chatted for a while. I looked at her Canon G2 - 4 Megapixels with a swivel display. I miss the swivel display on my camera. I have to peer through the viewfinder, unnaturally screwing up my left eye and attempting to block the light. I left her to unpack.

It seems next door is continuing to cause a nuisance, so I returned the latest nicotine drug butt with interest, after taking another photo of the evidence.

Shan returned with some friends who work at the same place. It is quite an international workplace. One lady lives nearby, in a house that has been converted into bedsits. The sitting room area of my lounge-dining room is a separate bedroom, and there is a converted garage at the back as well, meaning five people can stay there. It would be interesting to see.

Razmik returned later on, but I have now forgotten what the tales were - or maybe they weren’t publishable!

I did some work on the barn photos in the morning, but there wasn’t time to set up the software to create a Barn CD. Shoro had said that she would like a copy of the photos. I tidied myself up. Just as I was about to leave, I had to hunt for my mobile. It was upstairs. There was a text message waiting for me. Shoro had gone down to London - something about her sister.

So, I stayed in for most of the day. I didn’t do very much. In the afternoon, I was about to go shopping, when I noticed that the neighbours had flicked a couple of nicotine drug addict butts into my garden. I decided to return them. This didn’t seem to do any good. Like for like is never a suitable punishment for crime. I fetched the camera. If littering is an offence in the city, and a fine of, say £100 can be charged by the council, then I could probably take them to court for the same amount. I started to take photos of the drug addicts in their garden. This riled them. It was seen as “invading their privacy.” Being ignorant and arrogant, I guess they couldn’t work out that dumping litter in a neighbour’s garden is invading his privately owned property.

I cycled to One-Stop for the Saturday papers, but since I was worried the neighbours might attempt to do something worse than flick litter, I came straight home again.

There was a Spitfire doing an aerobatic display to the north of the city. Maybe it was just practicing for a Duxford show, or maybe there was something on. I watched TV for the rest of the day.

The doorbell rang impatiently at 01:30. Two guys stood at the end of the front door path. I directed them to 25 Aragon Close, but wondered why people would get visitors at this time of the morning. Perhaps I should have contacted the police, since drugs are the likely reason. However, a bungled police operation would have pointed to my involvement. I later read in the Weekly News of a police operation in Aragon Close. Seems they caught the dealer.

I must have sorted out some photos in the morning. It was a bit of a miserable day, if I remember correctly.

I seem to allow fifteen minutes for any journey in Cambridge. It meant I was quite early for my appointment with Bartow. It didn’t matter. We sat in the dining room.

Bartow is somewhat concerned about my lack of a job. It is a Christian principle to work for your living. I’m not living off the state. At present, I have some income from the house, and from next Tuesday it will be full again, with Shan moving in. I sleep on an airbed behind the sofa, putting it away in the morning. The arrangement seems to work. I got a bit depressed while the third room was empty, and sometimes get depressed by my lack of income as compared with those in regular occupations.

My c.v. makes me look unemployable. For two years, I haven’t done any “work”. I have taken lots of photos (almost 40,000) but I receive no income from this. My website needs a lot of work done on it to improve the navigation and design. Yet it achieves a 4Gbyte transfer rate per month, and its Google rating is climbing - try searching for Taj Mahal photos. From time to time, I pick up litter - again this generates not a penny (well, maybe the odd discarded tuppence.) Nothing that I do is of any value to anyone. People like the photos, and want to use them for their websites or in publications, but they expect to pay me nothing.

Why do I do all this? When I was writing computer programs two years ago, I earned the equivalent of a £50,000 salary (in four months only, though). It was hard work, and sometimes disheartening. One week, I managed 75 hours, but the toll on my character was too high - I became very grouchy. Even though I was aware of this, I found myself snapping too often at small things. At the end, the customer was pleased with the product.

However, when I take photos, every day I see something beautiful, and it gives great pleasure to see an image on the screen. Bartow thinks that it is Christian to sacrifice one’s personal pleasures for the sake of “work.”

We began to discuss my spiritual state. I clammed up. I still go to the Barn, but I rarely do the bible studies. Maybe I shouldn’t continue. Perhaps it is time to move on. I would be giving up my only social contact in the week. I will become the hermit that I dream of, living in a cave with just an electrical socket and an internet connection.

I am a burden to people who know me. I always have been. The hermit option is beginning to look sensible. I will have to find the strength of character to change from somewhere within. Instead, I dream of finding someone encouraging and appreciative, but the dreams have faded with age, and now look distinctly pale. Perhaps “work” is the only solution to living.

I went shopping afterwards, and then used the payphone to contact BT. I discovered that the lodger for whom the BT line had been reconnected last year in January hadn’t paid the bill on time. When she left, two months later, the bill was still unpaid. BT had to pass it to a factoring agent. It was in my name, so I have been blighted. I will have to put down a deposit of £50. It is very annoying. The telecoms companies do not have lodger-friendly options, where the line connects to the house but is the responsibility of the lodger.

I telephoned Shoro to check that everything was OK for tomorrow. She wanted to know where we would go if it was raining. My suggestion was to look round the Fitzwilliam Museum. That didn’t appeal, and I was at a bit of a loss for ideas. Cambridge is a sunshine town, best explored in good weather.

I watched another episode of Fawlty Towers in the evening.

The upgrade to Paintshop Pro 7 is available on the American website at only $49, but is not on the UK website. I will have to pay the full price, £95 or so. Razmik thinks it strange that I “allow others to rip me off, but when it comes to TV licenses or copied DVDs…” I spent some time looking through the photos of Ritsurin park. The beta version of PSP8 has now expired, so I downloaded a one month trial version. I find my curves are getting more complicated. If the photo has strong highlights or dark areas that I wish to retain, I first put anchors near the top and base. Then I adjust the curve of the inside, depending on whether the photo needs brightening or greater contrast. The Ritsurin photos were taken in great sunlight, so usually only need a gentle curve to make the colours pop.

I adjusted some of the photos of the Barn that I took last week, and printed them out. The colours aren’t quite correct, probably because of the mix of fluorescent and coloured lights in the Barn. It’s hard to guess the correct colours.

I was quite surprised to see Shoro at the Barn. I thought she had gone to London. It seems she decided to come back to Cambridge, and had even tried to postpone her flight to Taiwan next Tuesday.

When David asked me to man the door during the dancing, Shoro came down, too. So, we had the chance to chat. She is studying foreign languages and Chinese literature (I think) at a university in southern Taiwan (I think). Sorry - my memory for detail is not very good. Of course, the awkward question of my job arose. I don’t have a job. I don’t have much income, either. Perhaps, it was suggested, I am lazy. I didn’t really pick up on that point at the time, but now I remember it. Maybe I need to marry someone rich, I joked.

Back in the hall again, it was time for the announcements. I had to announce the bible study just after the plug for the Barn mugs. Anita, in the coffee bar, decided to model one. My announcement tried to get people to think about important events in the history of their country, and then suggested that the bible study was about perhaps the most important event in history.

Mark was leading it, so he asked me to read the passage - Luke 23:50 to 24:12. There were about seven people present, plus Mark and myself. Mark asked if there were any words that they didn’t understand. I seem to recall that one of the first lessons of teaching English was that we shouldn’t ask “Do you understand?” In England, this needs to be told to prospective teachers. We are culturally programmed to believe the answer “Yes.” This is a terrible weakness. In Japan, the first lesson from Mr. Kuroda was to smile, and the second was to “read the face.” Well - I didn’t think this at the time - these are just my musings as I write my diaries.

We didn’t really have any direction. We asked questions that were way too simple, involving little more than filling in the blanks, reading a sentence from the passage. I say “we,” but actually, Mark was leading, and I just tried to add some interest from time to time. It was as though we didn’t really know where we were going. We cheated, allowing specialist knowledge of other parts of the bible to give us an unfair advantage, though there was no real need to do so. If it truly is the “word of God” it is quite capable of speaking for itself.

We didn’t really address the big question in the passage itself: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” Interesting. When I wrote it from memory, I used “Why are you looking…” The present continuous is for a temporary event. The present simple is for habits, among other uses. The present continuous is for the moment, while the simple tense is for all time.

Where do people look for Jesus these days? We didn’t even begin to look at an answer which was clearly hinted at: “Remember what he said.” The answers are all there, it’s just that our minds are so programmed by our cultures and upbringings that we are incapable of, or too afraid to ask the right questions.

Back upstairs, I found Shoro again. Since she is leaving next Tuesday, I asked if she would like to meet up on Saturday, so we agreed 11 a.m. at the Barn. Perhaps we can wander round some of the colleges, I suggested.

Razmik didn’t return in the evening. I wondered what had happened to him. It turned out that he had driven down to London to stay with his parents for the night, driving back early on Friday morning.

I managed to put in the TV cable installation - or most of it. I’m missing one connector, so didn’t fit the lead going to Shanhong’s room. Still, it means that I can have the peace of Classic FM in the sitting room again - provided the neighbours aren’t thumping out their Jurassic Park base noise.

Someone is interested in the photos of Ritsurin park for a book. I had to do some web research to find a suitable rate. The most useful site is www.danheller.com/license.html. I set the rate at well below half of this. The photos are available at up to 2400 by 1800 pixels (8 x 6 inches at 300dpi) - in 100% Jpeg format (about 3.5Mbytes) Each photo is adjusted for curves (contrast, colour) but not sharpened, and may have minor touch-ups. Delivery would be by posting here on reggie.net, after payment has been received by Paypal (credit card or Paypal account). Photos need to be acknowledged with the copyright notice: Photo © www.reggie.net (either by the photo or in an acknowledgement section). The rate for a publication of up to 20,000 is $95 per photo.

I had to do some PHP programming to ensure that the response page from Paypal was working properly. With this in place, I probably should think about putting the information about the CDs onto the website.

Fawlty Towers was on again this evening.

I now have www.robbaker.org fully online, though awaiting the other pages that Rob wants to add - his music scores and organ music. Rob has set up a Paypal account so that people can purchase his CDs online. Now, I have to try and get Google to index it - it has the website with the previous page. I wonder how long it will take to update its cache?

I bought some cable for installing the TV aerial outlets in the rooms. However, I didn’t start the work. Instead, I brought Razmik’s TV down to the sitting room, putting it on the hi-fi unit.

The Salvation Army has sold its sofas, and the new stock is either shabbier, too wide, or doesn’t have the necessary fire approval sign. Sadly, the seats in Homebase have been sold. They were end of line items. It’s a pity I didn’t book one when I saw it.

When Razmik returned, we watched some Fawlty Towers together. Later, after the news, there was a film on. I reluctantly agreed to watch it. However, it was preceded with a message saying that it contained violence and bad language. I decided I didn’t like the sound of it, and was a bit upset that I was forced to go upstairs to avoid it. “It’s a movie!” shouted Razmik, as though all movies without exception had to contain violence and bad language.

The replacement phone battery has arrived from www.01shopper.co.uk. They have sent me a 1400mAh version - the one on the ad only showed 1200mAh.

My gas bill arrived as well. Based on an estimate, it’s only £51. Putting the actual figures in, the amount rises to £171! Gulp! There goes the thrice weekly bath.

I looked at www.energylinx.co.uk to find a quote for combining my gas and electricity bills. There were a few calculations to put in. Here they are:

I contacted NTL to find out how much it would cost to reconnect the telephone. It is £50, unless I agree to have a year of a special tariff. I also found out about the possibility of having cable TV. For £18.50 per month, I could have the telephone and basic TV channels. I had to phone from the call box, since I can’t use freedial on my internet phone. The ntl website wasn’t much use for finding out this information.

I scribbled some of my diaries and did some web surfing. It seems that the TV license fee has to be paid by lodgers individually if the TV is in their room. Also, if the TV is present in the house, the license fee becomes payable, even if it is only being used to watch DVDs. I showed Razmik the information. He decided to sign up for the license. Again, it wasn’t possible to do this online, so he telephoned.

The neighbours (I hesitate to use that word for them) were up at 3 a.m. bumping around in the kitchen last night. It meant that I didn’t wake up until ten, too late to head for church.

Instead, I continued to work on Robert’s page.

I used a program on the IBM PC to read the tracks on Rob’s CD, and then convert them to mp3 format. I had to clip them to about 30secs each.

Shan came with a friend to sign the agreement and pay the deposit. We amended one item of the contract, and filled in the standing order form.

I took the cheque down to the bank to deposit, and browsed some of the bookshops. In Tesco, I bought three folding chairs for outside use. They are under £4 each, and made in China. I wonder how they can possibly import them for that price. I had to tie them onto the back of the bike to get them home.

In Homebase, there were two lilac soft chairs going for £50 each. One would have looked great in Razmik’s room. However, I don’t have any means of transport.

While in B&Q, the lady who had booked to view the room, phoned to say that it was actually the wrong side of town for her work. I’m glad that everything has worked out well. I guess I want to believe in destiny, but it is probably just probabilities - the number of people looking for accommodation in Cambridge, the pleasant decor, the I wasn’t able to update Rob’s homepage www.robbaker.org because there was a problem with the ftp.