Humungous fungus

Liesel took Holly to Whittier and on this occasion, the weather was kind enough to make a boat trip worthwhile. And they all had a great time out on the ocean waves, watching orcas breach and glaciers calve. I can only imagine the smell of the sealions as they (mostly) outswam the predators.

Meanwhile, here in sunny England, I enjoyed a walk with Jenny, Liam, Martha and William over the border in Derbyshire. The car park in Crowden was nearly full, but we squoze in easily.

The path followed Torside and Rhodeswood Reservoirs. Yes, reservoirs that haven’t (yet) been sold off by the privatised water companies. William was pleased to make friends with the smallest frog in the world. They met when William enjoyed the first of several bush wees. (He’ll be pleased to read that when he’s a bit older.)

Martha was equally impressed by the very bright toadstools.

We didn’t run up any of the higher hills, not on this occasion. No, we just appreciated the leisurely walk on a well-worn, slightly undulating path. However many steps we grown-ups took (17,500 in my case), I’m pretty sure the children ran twice as far.

I have visions of Liesel rolling her eyes when she sees this photo:

The temptation to bend a tall structure in this manner is irresistable. On the other hand, the view was very English.

Only as we were on the home straight, did I see a sign confirming that we were on the Pennine Way. That’s another item on the bucket list, to walk the whole length of the iconic route.

This week, I felt I was fighting technology a lot. My main fight was with Microsoft. I’ve had a Schrödinger’s account for a while. It won’t let me log in because there’s no such account. Yet when I try to create a new account, it tells me there already is one.

This week, my Microsoft Office stopped working. They were unable to verify my licence. Go online to verify, it said. I’m already online, I replied, I can’t get any more online than I am, no matter how much you nag. In the process, my Word and Excel were disabled. I could view existing documents but I couldn’t edit them nor create new ones.

I got to a place where I could enter the Product Key, and it told me that Key had already been used. Yeah. By me. Three years ago.

There is no way to speak to a human at Microsoft. There is a phone number, but when you call it, the automated voice just says to go to the website.

When you go to the website, you go round and round in circles. I had to enter fifteen one-time codes, and my password several times, getting nowhere fast. In the end, I decided to delete the account. It asks 101 questions before you get to actually get to that point: mostly about features that I didn’t even know existed, that I’ve never used, and I won’t miss at all. And then, the account’s not actually removed for 60 days, ‘in case you change your mind’.

Then, if you open (in my case) Word or Excel, that is taken as to mean I want to cancel my request to delete the account. To avoid opening one of those by mistake, I uninstalled all the software.

A couple of days later, I received a marketing email from Microsoft. I don’t need that either, so I’ll unsubscribe. Easy, I thought. To unsubscribe, yes, I have to sign in. If I do that, then my request to delete the account will be cancelled.

The whole set-up is just nasty. Amongst all the big tech companies, I used to think Microsoft was one of the, if not ‘good’ guys, then one of the least worst. Oh well.

I’m now using getting used to Libre Office. It does 90% of what Microsoft Office does, it’s free and open source. So, a big razzberry to Microsoft.

On a lighter note, literally, Una sent some gorgeous photos of the Northern Lights from Anchorage.

Just as glorious, of course, is Northenden’s tiny village green, embracing the season.

Another technology fail. Booking flights to a holiday destination used to be fun, something to look forward to. Now, it’s soul-destroying, it just feels like you’re fighting the system all the time.

I’m visiting Helen in Australia at the end of January. After several days faffing about, trying to find a cheaper flight, it was time to pick a flight and book it.

After successfully entering all the details of my booking, double- and triple-checking (recalling Liesel’s faux pas last time, when we got tickets for March instead of April, oops, but never mind), Etihad declined my credit card, despite me confirming it was genuine via the bank’s app. I called the bank, there was no reason for my card to be declined, they said, the problem must be at their end.

I looked up Etihad Customer Support and being a bit flustered, I clicked on the first link that came up. Connect to our partner for a refundable £1 to get help. Cheeky bastards, I thought. When I did, I saw they want £1 then £24 a month subscription. At this point, I realised this was a con. So, back to the bank who strongly recommended cancelling my card and reissuing. This was a bit disappointing and annoying, and yes, inconvenient, but it was the right thing to do. Some rogue company might have my credit card details.

I still had to pay for my flights, of course: I don’t know whether the booking disappears after a set amount of time. So, I used my other card. This is one that I’ve been running down for a long time. I’ve not used it now for several months, and I’d planned to cancel it in due course. Again, to verify the card, I had to go to this bank’s app to say it was genuine. The payment went through.

So, I’ve decided to keep this second credit card, for just such an eventuality, an emergency, even if I don’t use it on a regular basis.

On my ‘main’ card, the one that was incorrectly declined, there are a couple of subscriptions so I’ll have to go in and change those, once the replacement card turns up.

Also, a reminder to myself, even if the heading in a big typeface says ‘Etihad Customer Care’, check the actual link before clicking on it.

I didn’t spend all week fuming in front of my laptop. I did go out a couple of times for some fresh air, some shopping and, oh alright, a coffee. I had a flu jab and a covid jab, one in each arm, to spread the load of the 5G microchips being injected into my body. But best of all, I went out to a gig.

I saw Frankie Archer at Low Four Studio in Deansgate, Manchester.

Yes I’ve been busy preparing shows for Wythenshawe Radio, after a break of very nearly a year. It took a while to recall how to use some of the software and, inevitably, new ‘features’ have been introduced that I’m not interested in. That’s progress, apparently!

The venue was intimate, and the audience enjoyed the support act, Satnam Galsian. She sang songs in Punjabi and in English, and played her own shruti box, a bellows that provides a drone to accompany the vocals.

Frankie Archer herself bounced onto stage and performed several ‘dark’ songs, promising to sing some more upbeat ones in the second half. When playing her fiddle, dancing around the stage, you can tell she’s really enjoying herself. And I don’t know how she can keep on top of all her equipment, samplers, keyboards, pedals and other gadgets. 

The Demon features in the video for her latest single, The Demon Lover.

If you would like to hear more from Frankie, listen to my latest radio show, now up on Mixcloud. As well as Frankie, there are some great songs which (sometimes inadvertently) namecheck other bands or singers.