Friday, 12 November 2010
12th November 2010 - 2
1910 Fuller's log. The first of the legible years. A joy to transcribe. Unlike those from the scribbly years.
What's that Greek bloke called who had to keep pushing a boulder up a hill? Orpheus, isn't it? That's who I feel like working through my archive photos.
My spreadsheets now have so many columns, not even half fit on my wide-screen monitor. (I've had it for a year, but only realised yesterday that it's HD.) It's a right pain.
19:07 Dinner's making funny noises. Foil containers are microwave safe, aren't they?
19:11 Andrew's friends leave. I shuffle nervously from foot to foot then say "Dag."