And the worst part? Earwormed by bloody Big Fun :(
[*] A "pull request" is some quantity of new computer code, which someone has submitted for potential inclusion in our Grand Bucket o' Code.
Note to self 2: you know perfectly well the kitchen timer is knackered. Don't set it and then wander off, or that quinoa will end up cooked for far too long.
You know, lunch today was actually surprisingly all right, all things considered :)
( DIY Popfest, Saturday @ The George Tavern )
( DIY Popfest, Sunday @ The Shacklewell Arms )
( Los Campesinos! @ Koko )
So! I'm attempting to lurch back into it. Not least because I won't have the least what bands I've seen otherwise.
( So, to Whitby to see the Goths! )
I'm also experimenting with images. Yes, this is not an exciting post.
( Green! )
Accordingly, I'm declaring Amnesty On Everything, because I'd like to ask a question :)
I have a lot of Word documents, where I have pasted in text written in a text editor and then edited it in Word. The net effect is that I end up with a mixed bag of "straight" ASCII quote marks and apostrophes, and fancy Unicode left- or right-handed quote marks and apostrophes.
What is the best way of sorting this out?
I expect to continue writing ASCII text documents in my favourite text editor and pasting them into Word, so anything that prevents this situation from arising would also be useful.
Thanks to all those of you who offered advice on my pudding and egg white dilemma last week. Apologies to those whose advice I subsequently ignored :)
I actually went ahead with the crazy winter pavlova idea, and it actually turned out reasonably nice. (At least, I thought it did. And other people said they liked it, though they may have just been polite.) I had some leftovers the day after, and they were definitely at the "leftover" stage, a little soft/soggy for meringue, but not to the point of inedibility. But the pavlova coped fine with being assembled around 6ish and eaten around 9ish.
deborahw37 requested a picture, but I'll put it behind a cut in case the rest of you have had quite enough of my culinary excess this month.( Show me the cakey! )
I have two problems. Well, I have many. But there are two of a culinary nature, on which I hope some kitchenly types might offer advice.
1. Owing to the choux wreath I have an imperial shitload of leftover eggwhites.
2. I am going to a neighbour for dinner tomorrow[*] and am requested to bring a pudding.
[*] Yeah, a neighbour. Not a friend who lives nearby, an actual neighbour whom I have only met as a result of the geographical proximity in our dwellings. Yeah, in London. No, I didn't think that was allowed either.
Ok, soon I will get round to posting about how awful 2016 was and what I intend to do about 2017 (maybe), but in the interim I'm copying ceb's "pay it forward" meme.
Comment here if you would like me to send you A Thing during this year. I won't commit to the nature of The Thing, but it will be intended to be something to make you happy. It may be home-made, and will likely not be high-value
Depending on take-up rate, I might not get through everyone. First come, first served, and I'll promise to do at least six.
Comment if you'd like A Thing, and if possible please post a similar offer on your journal. Also include in your comment if you are averse to surprises and would prefer to negotiate your Thing, or if you would prefer to have a non-tangible thing so that I don't need your address!
New Year's Day, in this house, begins with watching the Vienna Philharmonic's concert on telly and eating a massive picnic breakfast.
Today we postponed the breakfast, largely due to last night's "The Unexpected"-themed party featuring unexpected plates of steak and chips.
But the announcer on the telly casually mentioned Dinner for One.( Dinner For One )
To be fair, ChrisC did better. He'd heard number 40, Hello by Adele, which he encountered while doing due diligence on the headliners before we went to Glastonbury. I am less diligent. However, I have spent a lot of time this year in gyms, trying to exercise my knees back into working order, and there is some rule that all gyms must show multiple TV channels, all with the sound off, and play terrible radio. Surely I would have heard some of them, even if I couldn't identify them by name.
( Testing that... )
When I was little, Christmas Eve had a pretty well-established pattern. To be honest, it still does, although this year was a bit off-point as ChrisC and I only rolled into Darlington mid-afternoon. But one of the parts of the pattern when I was small was to go into town for the Crib Service and (either before or after) to potter across the market place to the town clock.
Grouped around the base of the town clock were the people the mother always referred to as "the holly men". They were not, in fact, some kind of sinister shadow force written into existence by Mr Gaiman, but a small group of guys selling holly. Not fancy wreaths, or arrangements, just holly. We'd buy a bundle and bring it home to tuck sprigs behind pictures and - if at all possible - for general decking of halls.
( The Problem of the Holly )