So anyway . . . .

Home from the wars so to speak.

A friend at work is pretty worried because her son's on his way to Afghanistan shortly. As a mother, statistics don't mean a thing and the danger is ever present. He's unlikely to get even a scratch - more likely to get a boil or bad guts than come to any harm in action. I'm not sure how we ought to deal with it. Everyone is avoi
ding mentioning it and nobody talks about the situation out there. I think it's the wrong approach, but I tend to be callous / optimistic about that sort of thing.

He's set up their computer for video links and the like and he'll be sending email and making phone calls all the time. I'm of a generation who went to sea and relied on letters to keep in touch, so it all seems very strange. I think it'd be surreal being in almost constant contact with my family while I was in the middle of a war zone, or even abroad on holiday. Several people I know at work even take their XDAs on holiday with them 'just to keep in touch'. It's very strange. However, in the grand scheme of things, what's one life more or less when we're faced with a cold war revival and third place in the medals tabl
e at the Olympics? It's amazing the way the news programmes run stories together with seemingly equal importance. Suicide bombers just before the football results and QVC carries on regardless.

Busy weekend ahead. Housewarming party tomorrow, kids on Sunday and then take'em to the airport on Monday. In between this it'll be the hospital, house jobs and, maybe, painting some leads. Weather's going to be shite and so it's a perfect excuse to avoid gardening. Got some stuff finished and more stuff started on the painting table, but no drive to bash on with anything really. It's a shame, but this hospital thing ddrains energy like a cancer. I'm home around half past eight and then it's just vegitate until bedtime.

So today's toy:


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