Lordy, That'll Be Sunday Night!
Begin the exploitation of Label's in the new version of blogger as I begin to pull together an RSS directory of the Tags that the News Service we do that usually gets dumped here. The notion being that people will be able to use the service for their own ends and with more precision than the total news post allows. Use the excellent button maker from Adam Kalsey to create the range of buttons for the thing. Suspect it'll take me all week to populate the things. Suspect this might be a librarian concept though that the Tags will allow people to see subjects related to their interests.
This all begins before the match with Bolton but also through it. Fling in the smell of curry cooking in the kitchen in which I'm sat and you'll be close to picturing the scene. Middle of the day is spent with a trip to drop Monst's sick note into Faz (Aintree Hospitals Foundation NHS Trust) where I witness and indulge in the infection control measures which are presumably part of the efforts to reduce MRSA locally (alcohol rub for the hands on arrival and departure). Also drop some cables off at Sue's for Joseph to download his photos from China (he borrowed a couple of cameras from us). Home via Sainsbury's and the centre of town. It's a windy day and the urban tumble weed is very much in evidence, loads of pyjama girls about today (seems to be a local phenomena, the wearing of pyjamas out on the street, in my more extravagent moments I have arrived at the hypothesis that there is a 'Pyjama Girl Deprivation Index' as a result of the empirical observation that pyjama girls are thicker on the ground in the more deprived areas of the city - this is of course probably complete bollocks). Do windy days bring more out onto the streets, blown from their beds (or maybe they like the feel of the wind whistling round the Khyber!) Home and feed the family and begin cooking the curry for tonight. Curses, Bolton have scored. Then Arsenal drag one back, replay on Valentine's day and I'm away. Curses, curses, curses.
