So perlmonger fitted the new security beam things yesterday, and then when I was in the bath I heard the warning chime go. I called him and got no reply, so I assumed it was him.

But when I went downstairs, they’d taken the laptops and the Wii and the remotes and the cameras and all the DVDs, I ran down the end of the garden and saw one of them running through the field, so I photographed her.

Then I went to find the village bobby* at Angela’s house – they’ve moved to the other side of the road. They had no glass in their front door, and were having some sort of lunch party with the guests sat on rows of chairs like a lecture. David took me into the kitchen and told me not to make a fuss, and that the insurance would pay. The policewoman wasn’t there.

* That’s a giveaway, isn’t it?

Alien Overlords

They are among us, and ruling us.

They have huge leathery wings, and look a bit like the chaps in Arthur C Clarke’s Childhood’s End, a book of which I’m very fond. These lords are, however, less benevolent.

We knew they were coming, of course, as we were walking across the horned bridge by the Watershed, and I remarked on how many jets there seemed to be in the sky. We assumed that there was some sort of delay at Heathrow and that they were stacking the planes. But when we got home, we put the news on; all the power was off, but the television was working. And we were informed. And then the milk was delivered.

They don’t allow us to have anything sharp unless we’re supervised. And I’m working in a sort of industrial growing house – like a farm, but under cover, and I’ve lost my dibbery thing. It’s shiny with a red plastic handle – if you find it, could you give it back, because I’m frightened of them.

Very odd dream, really.


I spent what seemed like most of last night dreaming about writing HTML e-mails (oh the shame) about orange Le Creuset cookware. I have no idea why.

however, it beat the previous night’s dreams, which involved going down an alley I’d never noticed before and finding a lovely cobbled square, three sides of which contained a vintage clothing shop run by the WI. “Oh, I love wearing vintage clothes”, I cried, in the dream – which is odd, because I’ve never done that in my life.

what was even odder was to find myself in a *very* small lavatory cubicle with a lowish door, set in front of a refectory-style table, with Princess Anne sitting opposite. She seemed to want to be my friend, but I rebuffed her.

analyse *that*.

a rude awakening

I had a bit of an insomniac night – between 3 and 4 a.m. is my bad time. So when the doorbell rang at 7:45, I was asleep; dreaming of having to make boeuf stroganoff for captainblue, while my mother was hanging the laundry of bed linen on the line. Lets not go there, eh?

anyway, I digress.. The postie had two packages – one addressed to perlmonger, and unbranded, and an Amazon one. I bore them upstairs, with an accusing “been buying books again, have you?”. Because I’ve never been guilty of that, oh no.

he looked genuinely confused, which is of course his normal expression, and started to open the unbranded box. I took the Amazon one and found it was addressed to me! It turned out to be a book that marypcb recommended a few weeks ago, and I’d put it on my Amazon wish list. From whence it was despatched, by a CIX user who has signed up for the food site I’m writing – I was really touched. And now I’ll be able to write a decent UI as well. What was it? O’Reilly’s Designing Interfaces by Jennifer Tidwell. Such a kind thought.

perlmonger was still struggling with his parcel, but as he was barely awake, didn’t have his glasses on, and had cut his fingernails yesterday, he had to go and get his mini Leatherman. And it turned out to be the 5 CD set of “The Life and Music of Richard Thompson”. Which I ordered using his Switch card.

so he’s off the hook, for now. And I have much ripping to do.