A note to ... ... ...

6 December

The traffic in and out of town is pretty dire right now, with queues of cars all heading for the town centre carparks. Asda has a good sized one but anyone trying to park there during the day now will be lucky to get a place on arrival. Parking is why we have now taken to doing our shopping in the evening, but neither of us is comfortable in large crowds these days either. So much quieter in the evening, but still busy. It’s always the same at this time of year and won’t get any better until mid-January time.

Isaac Asimov was my favourite Sci/fi writer, still is really even though he is no longer with us. I don’t remember any of his work that I didn’t like. As well as all his novels he also wrote a lot of short stories, later published in collections. His short story collections were interesting for another reasons. In between the stories he added a note about what was happening in his life at the time of writing. Before one of them was a note about taking part in a TV chat show. He had a feeling he was going to asked to write a short story while the show was on air, so he had begun to plan it before he arrived at the studio. The story that followed was the one he wrote during that show, including the one spelling mistake he made at the time.

In another such note he told the tale of how as a uni student he and his mates decided to play a trick with one of the professors. This guy was a stickler for accuracy in how much fuel his car was using, making careful notes about how much fuel he added and his mileage and so on. All well and good … so these guys began playing their little trick with him. Firstly they removed some fuel from the car. A few days later they would return it back to the car. After a couple weeks the prof; was getting really distraught over it so they gave up. Then the math returned to normal.

OK, just two tales that I can remember. They didn’t have any effect on the stories that followed, but they did give us readers a glimpse into the Asimov life away from the typewriter. So last night I began a new Stephen King, well, new to me that is. Just After Sunset, is a collection of short stories too, and King has added notes to each story – but at the back of the book, not in between them. He’s not all that convinced in doing so really, mainly because of other folks thoughts on such notes, but I for one like them.

Kile has been with us for the weekend and is due back home for 7pm this evening. He is still coughing quite badly, but not as badly as when he first arrived on Friday. He will going home happy again I think, apart from the constant rattle form his brother Billy. Still, he’s happy for a short break. I’m happy to have him here too; at least then I can have different foods that I like. Jan isn’t very adventurous with her eating so I’m always happy when Kile is here; pasta on Friday and a curry last night, so tonight something for Jan as well, but nothing too big and complex. The biggest problem we have with Kile, is getting him to drink more.  

Photo time … 

The estuary at Barmouth.

Today’s funny …

There is an overweight guy who is watching TV. A commercial comes on for a guaranteed weight loss of 10 pounds in a week. So the guy, thinking what the hell, signs up for it. Next morning an incredibly beautiful woman is standing at his door in nothing but a pair of running shoes and a sign about her neck that reads, "If you can catch me, you can have me." As soon as he sees her, she takes off running. He tries to catch her, but is unable. This continues for a week, at the end of which, the man has lost 10 pounds. After this he tries the next weight loss plan, 15 pounds in a week. The next morning an even more beautiful woman is standing at the door, in similar conditions. The same happens with her as the first woman, except he almost catches her. This continues for a week, at the end of which he, as suspected, weighs 15 pounds less. Excited about this success, he decides to do the master program. Before he signs up, he is required to sign a waiver and is warned about the intensity of this plan. Still he signs up. The next morning, waiting at the door, is a hulking 300 pound muscle man with nothing but a pair of running shoes, a raging erection, and a sign around his neck that says, "If I catch you, you're mine!" The man was supposed to lose 25 pounds in the week; he lost 34.