The twenty-first of June today, the longest day of the year. Good old pagan summer solstice, wicker men and Britt Ekland prancing around starkers and all that. My theory is that it's because of the fact that it really is the longest day that it's so bloody cold and damp: you've got all that extra time to be miserable in. Supposed to clear up for the weekend though, which'd be rather nice because I really am looking forward to a barbecue.
Anyway, took advantage of that to drop off the boat anchor for her to play with. I spent a bit of time the week before backing up all of Margo's stuff, nuking it from orbit and installing XP, getting all the service packs on and stuff like that, and I must admit I really was surprised at just how useful even an old Pentium can be, when it's unencumbered by years of cruft. Whatever, Karen's happy, it's hers, she doesn't have to share it, and it does what she wants. Which isn't too bad. On the other hand, when she has enough money to buy a real computer, I am not going to see the old Compaq coming back here. I don't care how tender-hearted she is, she can still take it to the tip.
Headed off to Geneva on Friday: I got a phone call out of the blue a week or so ago asking if I could give a quote for a display driver adaptation for Windows CE (or whatever Microsoft call it these days), which was fine, and then there was a loud thunk as a rather heftier request flopped into my inbox. This time, video, virtual keyboard, serial ports, SPI bus ... the funny thing is, I actually knew - quite intimately - the product that was being replaced, as I was working on it when Gespac went titsup all those years ago. And the people on the other side of the conference table from me were ex-Gespac types.
So I went off and - despite ViaMichelin's best efforts - actually managed to find the place and meet up with Sandrine. So by the looks of it, that's about 20-25 days-worth of work over the summer, which is good. And the prospect of more to follow, which is even better. (I should perhaps explain that I must be one of the miniscule number of people that don't actually have a GPS - at least not one that works - so before I go anywhere I tend to get the driving directions on the Michelin website and print them out. Despite the fact that I have to put my glasses on to read them and then take them off again to carry on driving ... and despite the fact that they're sometimes not as clear as they could be. In fact I had to wing it as it turned out: much of Geneva and the surrounding built-up area is in fact countryside, so one minute you're driving along a four-lane road and then turning off onto a barely sealed track. Quite literally in this case: the chemin des Grossefouilles or somesuch, forbidden to non-agricultural vehicles and in any case it was blocked by roadworks at the far end. A pain. Never mind.)
Whatever, right now Margo's disappeared to her thing at Morzine and although Jeremy's come home I've only seen him for the short time it took to eat dinner: catching up after computer-deprivation. There was a lovely miles-high thunderhead with lightning playing inside it quite spectacularly just a short while ago, as I caught up with the rosé on the terrace, but that's buggered off as well and so quite honestly I think I'll head off to bed. A bit before midnight, for once.