Sundays are a great day for having a long breakfast and just hanging around. We really should have gone for a walk or just sat in Hyde Park or popped off to a museum I suppose, but we've done a lot of that of late, and a day of nothingness seemed quite appropriate. Actually a day of nothingness was substantially overdue.
Of course when nothingness comes with a bottomless of broadband internet it turns into somethingness, so while one read, and two went out for coffee and a bit of respite from the old folk, the other found himself knee deep in gigabytes. By mid afternoon new operating system, updated GPS mapping, an application or two which may or may not prove helpful in time, a new system startup burned, everything backed up in triplicate and the absolute sense of a day completely gone with nothing to remember it by.
We did have an appointment down Regent Street early evening though, to see what the nice people at the Apple Store could do with Shell and Jules' old black computer. As it turned out, they didn't quite know either but if it wasn't going to be inexpensive they promised they'd do nothing which seemed like a reasonable compromise.
As we walked home we did notice that something was definitely awry in old London Town. In quiet backstreets of Paddington the friendly Bobbies were dressed to kill.
"Strange", we thought, and ambled home through the leafy dusk.
Clearly they knew something that we did not, but we didn't give it a second thought.
(Note: in the interests of staying within the bounds of the anti terrorism act, the photograph is from another day and another location!)
Of course when nothingness comes with a bottomless of broadband internet it turns into somethingness, so while one read, and two went out for coffee and a bit of respite from the old folk, the other found himself knee deep in gigabytes. By mid afternoon new operating system, updated GPS mapping, an application or two which may or may not prove helpful in time, a new system startup burned, everything backed up in triplicate and the absolute sense of a day completely gone with nothing to remember it by.
We did have an appointment down Regent Street early evening though, to see what the nice people at the Apple Store could do with Shell and Jules' old black computer. As it turned out, they didn't quite know either but if it wasn't going to be inexpensive they promised they'd do nothing which seemed like a reasonable compromise.
As we walked home we did notice that something was definitely awry in old London Town. In quiet backstreets of Paddington the friendly Bobbies were dressed to kill.
"Strange", we thought, and ambled home through the leafy dusk.
Clearly they knew something that we did not, but we didn't give it a second thought.
(Note: in the interests of staying within the bounds of the anti terrorism act, the photograph is from another day and another location!)
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