Put up or shut up, sayeth the minister
Finally, the gloves are off. After months of accusatory rhetoric from a former cabinet minister, the premier has told him to “put up or shut up”. In parliamentary terms, that’s raw.
On the work front, I’m now protected from the population of the “world’s fourth largest non-country, based on population”. Seems there was a software flaw in the firewall; by substituting https for http (and all you geeks know what that means), it was possible to let a tiny trickle of personal information from friends and family members into the office. Gone. As of this morning, the artificial intelligence spots the subterfuge and deflects those arrows.
My vertical antenna received its first bit of maintenance this afternoon, when son #2 and I extracted the mounting bolts and laid the whole thing down on damp grass. The constant vibration from shifting winds had actually unscrewed a nut from a bolt, near the top, and allowed one of the tuning rods to hang free. There. Fixed. I am so thankful that I have a ground-mounted assembly; I’ve climbed towers in my younger days. Unwrapping my legs from their “hold on tight” position was always tricky.
I almost won an eBay auction, for yet another Morse key. I’m sad that I didn’t get the nod, but the price was crazy! Who knew that dits and dahs were so popular? I mean, to hear some of my friends, that’s obsolete technology. In retort, I’ve changed my “new mail” sound to V (as in dit-dit-dit-dah) sent fast and clean. Gets some odd looks from the others in the office, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
Son #3 is back in the air, headed up from Santa Clara, Cuba. The plane will land in the middle of the night, and the first big travel adventure will be over.
