And here, I always thought that Cinco de Mayo was simply an excuse for the Americans to eat tacos and drink bad tequila. I suppose we learn something every day…

In any case, this is a short, sweet update to let you know that I’m alive, and the rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated. As such, I’m still liable to the Student Loans Company, and no, you can’t have my things yet.

Since November, I’ve been working… and working some more. I finally pulled off a very painful migration for the team to a new ODM on a Xeon XServe (the documentation for which is still being written… I know, I know…) and since the last bugs were worked out in early/mid January, I’ve actually found time to sleep and even leave work on time. Needless to say, this has left me a little bored at times, but my health and Cardiologist both thank me.

December saw hours and hours and hours spent at work, past my salaried time, bashing my head against the server cabinet in some vain hope that my blood, offered as sacrifice, would resolve the AFP issues that had seemingly plagued my new install, but not the older 10.4.x G5 install. In reality, the issue had been there all along, but under the G5, performance was already so appallingly bad, that no one had a chance to notice the odd kernel panic causing everything to restart. The AFP lockups were so frequent under the old administration (a setup that I inherited, essentially overnight) that everyone was used to it by the time my new Intel went in. It wasn’t until after taking a break at the end of the year, was I able to come back with a fresh mind and look at everything with the analytical bent I had so far been lacking… as an aside, I still twitch at the mention of “beachballing…”

January saw the marriage of my best friend to his charming fianceé, where I stood as Best Man, and did my upmost to ensure the smooth running of the day. This culminated in my throwing myself out of an SUV and puling his then brand new Mother in Law from the path of a speeding car. Being European, she had neglected to remember that cars in the UK move in the other direction. As such, she’d not seen thought to check to her left as she stepped out into oncoming traffic… Needless to say, he still has said Mother in Law, and I learned that I can move rather quickly when needs must. I supposed it’s an indication that I should return to doing some sort of sensible sport and get myself back into shape (or at least, one other than “round”.)

In very early Feb, my little City was (metaphorically) shot in the knees when almost ten inches of snow fell, mostly overnight, causing London’s transport network to simply shut down. I was personally house-bound for three days as the snow that melted formed two inches of ice over everything capable of aiding movement (rails, tarmac, etc) and so venturing outside was an adventure in just how far you could get before falling on your backside because you’d forgotten to strap crampons to your boots.

My birthday was a quiet event (all things told) though the cake I brought to work was a resounding success. The post-cake-drinks were also a welcome change from the usual routine of going to the local Slug and Lettuce to listen to co-workers moan about being underpaid and overworked (which is in this climate, a rather snotty thing to say, I feel…) – the setting of a vodka bar, while not my usual choice, certainly made for a charming evening.

Which brings me neatly to March. Right now, this month has been rather spiffy. We’ve been granted new training resources at work, and projects that we’ve been working on have finally come to fruition. There’s new functionality to build into systems, new apps to test (note: always submit bug feedback; hell, all feedback. Feedback is good…) and stuff to learn. Challenges keep me on my toes. Love ‘em.

Other than that, I saw a very excellent opera based on The Office, written by my friend Anne for Comic Relief. You should all visit the site and sponsor her. And, last but not least, at the end of March, I’ll be setting off once more to the US, to visit friends in Chicago, Madison, and the surrounding areas. I’ll be staying through the Easter weekend, and should be back in London around the 14th. Hopefully, the trip will give me a little time to catch up on my written output. And perhaps a new story from the man in 41C.

As part of my time away recently, I’ve been in West Sussex, and taking the odd walk. The other day, after helping an woman hunt for her lost dog in the 35 acres of woodland, I came back to the house and pulled off my boots, and noticed that my ankles were almost on fire. Removal of socks reviled a multitude of little bite marks from some unknown beastie.

Certainly, the broadcast could be better; it could be an HD transmission, and if still broadcast on the BBC, I’m sure it would be. It’d also be nice if we could see the race uninterrupted by the plethora of adverts that seem so pop up at the most inconvenient of times, such as right in the middle of pitting. But such is life.

At the end of it all, I still get to watch a race and take a chance to zone out just a little. These are the days I cherish, the days that I wish would last just that little touch longer, a sort of reversal of long dark teatime of the soul. Days like these, the cold, overcast ones, are the kind to share with people you love. And while it’s not always possible to spend it with those special people, when it happens, it’s worth it.

Long cold mornings, fresh coffee, pancakes, and those you care about around you. It’s the perfect start to the day. I hope to have that pleasure again soon.

My employer however, had other ideas. Within four minutes of my newly found affinity for the ground, I had paramedics by my side, and a fantastic little portable machine for telling them that my heart was still beating. Being wheeled out of work on a squeaky chair will forever be one of the most embarrassing moments of my working career to date, right up with addressing a young lady who turned out to in fact, be a young man. 

In the ambulance, they took an ECG, and concluded that my heart was 1) still beating, and 2) not subject to a heart attack. For this privilege, my legs and chest were shaved in odd spots, so as to get the little Skintact pads to stick and get a reading. After that, we took a trip to St. Mary’s Hospital in Paddington. While there, two further ECGs were performed, and 15ml of blood drawn for miscellaneous testing via a clumsily applied cannula. Near six hours later, after being given the all clear, I stumbled back to work, picked up my things, and then dragged myself home.

Four days later, I’ve done nothing but sleep most of the day and be irritable. The visit this morning to the doctor revealed a pretty boring diagnoses. Mono, Lyme’s or “something viral”. We’ll find out Friday about the “something viral” and mono, and a little later for Lyme. Now until then will be spent at home, catching up on all the things I’ve meant to do for months, and never quite got around to. The man on AA99 still has a story to finish.

In the time I spent working with Apple Corps, the few times I dealt with Neil were all wonderful. Likewise, working with his wife Suzy was always a pleasure, and I would look forward to the calls. Neil will be missed, but his influence on one of the greatest musical acts of our time will not be forgotten.

Between this, and the passing of Geoffrey Quinn (alias Paul Raymond, another former employer) it’s been a sad month. Here’s to hoping that the next is somewhat more cheery.

Look out in the future for a few pictures to start making their way back into posts here, and trips to to actually have pictures with them.

Wednesday saw us being evacuated from work for three hours, after some poor unfortunate soul get himself electrocuted after drilling through a power line and a gas main.

And then on Saturday, Camden Market went and caught fire. Most of the market has made it out without too much damage, but around forty odd stalls and a fair few homes have been reduced to shells. I’ve not been to Camden in the best part of a year or more now, but I expect it’s going to feel rather different next time I step off the Northern Line.