transcript of the outbursts from my room

". . . oh no! They have pheasant feathers on their heads!"
"It's folkmusic? A brass band . . . and inexcusible embroidery . . ."
"Really inexcusable embroidery . . ."
"Cut-ogg vests with more inexcusable emroidery . . . that's cutwork on those sleeves . . ."
"and they're singing about Moravian girls . . ."

"is it all like that? Polkas. Dogdamnit."

And then the cat bit me on the chin.

It's here, but if you can't enjoy polka-playing brass bands with inexcusable emroidery and pheasant feathers on their heads, maybe you'd better click on this one instead.

edit: it gets worse (arguably): "Glory, glory Hallelujah" as a light-hearted dance tune. With a conga line. "Eva @ Vašek" do not wear pheasant feathers, but they do adapt American country music in inexplicable ways.

eaten again

Every once in a blue moon whatever word processing program I'm on gets angsty and starts telling me that it "didn't exit normally the last time it closed," i.e., it crashed -- when it didn't, actually, and in fact it not only hasn't crashed recently, it hasn't closed since the last time I saved it, and I have saved it only sentences ago: and when it does that, I ought to remember that what has actually happened is that the program has gione on a bender and it now thinks that the last several hundred words of already saved writing is new and unsaved material that is is free to jettison as soon as I tell it to shut up and get back to work. I guess what I need to do is not to either tell it to stop bugging me about Document 4, or to tell it to save Document 4 with a new name, but to quick like a bunny copy everything I have on my screen and save it to a new file. Or something.

Ah well, I didn't like the ending to the hundred years after story anyway. So I guess it's all right.

edit: I didn't lose anything this time, after all: I was looking at the unecessary backup file: the main file was completely intact.

Now I have to move the edits I made in the unnecessary backup file into the main file where they belong.