This morning, wishing to get some fresh air into my lungs, but disinclined to go jogging, I thought I would christen my walking boots and go for a wander. At this point, the weather was still pleasant, with plenty of blue visible in the sky.

I decided to try again to take the public footpath to Water Eaton. Last time I tried this, I lost track of the path in the overgrown fields, and, feeling that the trainers I was wearing were hardly up to the task, I abandoned the attempt on the edge of Cutteslowe Park. This time, adequately shod, I was determined to make progress, and my task was aided by the now obvious muddy trail running through the fields:





It didn't take long for the mud to become something of a hindrance, but I made it to Water Eaton. Unfortunately, there is virtually nothing there. Most of what there is consists of the private estate of Water Eaton Manor, along with the nearby Middle Farm.





By now there were occasional spots of drizzle, and, rather than head east towards Woodeaton, I was glad to leave the muddy footpath and take the mainly-concrete bridleway towards Kidlington. On this route, you have to go through an entirely unautomated level crossing.





I was surprised, and slightly alarmed, that they would trust the likes of me to use such a crossing without dying horribly, but I managed OK (after a particularly careful stop, look, and listen) and continued along the bridleway to Kidlington.

Fearing that the rain would get worse, and my umbrella having been reduced to tatters the previous weekend, I decided to head back, so, after a brief stop to buy provisions, I headed back south, this time by the main road. This is a much duller route, but mud-free, and also allows a closer glimpse of the derelict grain silo near the Park & Ride.





Not in the mood for any urbex, I decided to pass it by without further investigation, and arrived home just before the serious rain started.

My reward for the morning's efforts: that slightly virtuous feeling that the outdoors gives you, and a massive bacon sandwich for lunch. A good first half of the day, I'd say.

Isn't it time I bought some more shiny electronic equipment? The last such thing I bought was probably Babbage's Difference Engine, or something. Maybe I'm just too tight. But what items would improve my life? Here are a few thoughts:

• A printer. I have been meaning to get a new one for some time, after my old one (which wasn't very good anyway) died a death. I'd like a mono laser printer, ideally. Inkjets aren't actually that good, I've decided. And none of this photo printing nonsense. Or am I being silly?
• A widescreen monitor. I am currently using a small LCD display gacked from Christina's department, as my massive CRT was too big for my old room. I suppose it's not too big for this new one, but I got my parents to take it back up to Leeds for now until I decide what to do with it. Anyway, it's not widescreen. Though do I actually need a widescreen monitor?
• A video camera. Probably just one of those little ones like a Flip or whatever. I'm not sure why I would want one of these, though. I have no doubt that I would become a cinematic great the toast of YouTube irritating on social occasions.
• A digital radio. I really ought to get some kind of wireless (arch.), as I am currently having to put the computer on to listen to the radio, digital or no. A digital one makes sense, as I could listen to...er...well, it's the future, isn't it? OK, possibly not, apparently, but it sounds futuristic. Maybe just an ordinary radio, then. Oh, and a CD player. That's not the future, but we all have CDs, don't we?
• A netbook. The world and her civil partner have one of these, after all. I like the idea. But I would be too tight to pay for mobile internet, so I'd be relying on wifi. And I get the impression that now is not the best time to buy, given likely advances in technology in the next few months.

Anything else to add, readers? And any comments/suggestions regarding the possibilities outlined above? Or should I remain tight and not buy anything (which seems the most likely option)?

Having nothing much to do yesterday, I went on a day trip to Reading. I needn't have bothered - it was at least as dull as it sounds. Most irritatingly, the only site of any real historical interest (apart from the prison, which I fully intend never to visit) was the Abbey ruins, which appear to have been closed off to the public only a few weeks ago. Apparently, the council has carried out a health and safety assessment, and as a consequence has deemed the site unsafe. Personally, I blame Henry VIII - presumably his descendants will be happy to foot the repair bill?

The rest of the centre is much like that of any other large provincial town, all pedestrianised shopping precincts, 1970s office blocks, and the obligatory Yates's Wine Lodge.

A number of churchyards scattered around the town centre bring some relief from all of this. In one, I came across the following memorial to a poor fellow whose unusual cause of death compelled me to take a photograph:



IN MEMORY OF HENRY WEST Who lost his life in a WHIRLWIND at the GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY STATION READING on the 24th. March 1840.

I strongly suspect that this incident was the most exciting ever to befall the town (aside from the birth of Mr Andrew B. Armitage, now of Leeds).

Still, I now know that I don't need to go there again, so it wasn't an entirely wasted journey.

Does anyone know a solution to the infamous "Acquiring Network Address" problem in the world of wi-fi? It has been plaguing me for the past few weeks, and has become increasingly difficult to fix.

I needn't explain more - if you haven't heard of the problem, you won't know how to fix it. A spot of googling shows that it is a common problem, but I have seen no "proper" solution anywhere. Though maybe I am looking in the wrong place.

Heh. I noticed this when I went to vote first thing this morning, and chuckled inwardly. That'll teach 'em to have an alphabetically challenged name. As leader of the Aardvark Party, I plan to defeat peeeeeeet's British Equality Party at the next election, though I'm concerned about losing votes to alcoholics and car repairmen.

I came across this quotation in the OED at work today:

1878 L. P. Meredith Teeth 20 Biting into rock and other hard candies is certainly a very reprehensible practice.

I think we can all learn something from that.

Has anyone seen the new Krypton Factor? I haven't, or rather I haven't seen more than mere snatches of it, but I approve of the general principle of bringing it back. I used to quite like it, especially the flight simulator bit. But aren't there many other telly programmes of yesteryear that ought to make a comeback? Clearly there is a taste for retro TV at the moment (I mean new versions of old shows, not repeats). I would like to see Give Us A Clue and Name That Tune return to our screens. What other programmes would readers welcome back to the goggle box?

I.

Another barmfruit
falls from the Armitage tree:
Barm's loins are fecund.

II.

He owned a strobe light.
"The Future Sound of London"
was played whilst it flashed.

III.

How swanky seemed the
Amstrad PCW!
With hindsight it's shit.

IV.

Lewis Hamilton
is given an MBE:
"Mot'ring Black Excels!"

V.

What is that song that
the Kings of Leon would play?
"Barm Don't Get A Thing".

I saw this article on the Morgunblaðið website about the new Beatles MA course at Liverpool Hope University, and was rather taken aback to find that the name of the band is rendered (translated isn't quite right) as Bítlarnir in Icelandic! You'd think that, being their actual name, "The Beatles" would be fine, but no - the Icelanders have to go and Icelandify it! I know they like their linguistic purity, but this takes the metaphorical biscuit. I suppose this means that a singular "Beatle" is a Bítill. I enjoyed the various declensions of the name in the article - Bítlunum (dative plural), Bítlanna (genitive plural), Bítlana (accusative plural). What fun!

I'm off to Iceland tomorrow, for a week. Still packing. Nearly done, though.

So, much has been made of the snow today, but this flurry has not seen temperatures dip as low as they did in the cold snap earlier in the year, when the canal near me was frozen over. Here is a snap I took with my mobile phone to prove it:

Ha! Now we once again have the internet in the house, after a hiatus of some weeks. What fun!

Last night I had a dream in which I was watching a Chinese film, shot like a home video, in which there were lots of little sheeplets like Smudge the sheep. This is him:



It was all very cute. There was one that looked just like Smudge, and others that were brown. They were mainly in bed, being cuddled.

Then I had another, less cute, dream, in which José Mourinho was arguing with his slightly dodgy brother named "Steve". At one point there was a fight, and some of us wanted to call the police, but we were warned not to. Anyway, it ended with José grabbing some object from Steve, and Steve walking away dejectedly. I think this all took place in something like the old Crystal Palace that was built for the Great Exhibition of 1851.

Anyway, after that I fell in Steve's party as they left the building. It turns out that the object José took was the title deeds to a black slave-woman, whom José actually owned but Steve had just been borrowing for a bit, and using for sexual purposes. There were rumours that the slave was pregnant. I thought it was a bit off that they should still be allowed to have slaves in this day and age, but as Steve was in a bad mood I decided not to say anything.

As we were walking down the street, we turned off into a field. Suddenly, we were ambushed by a gang of roughs. The leader brandished a big stick, and made us all sit down cross-legged. I edged away, thinking that I could make a run for it if they didn't have guns. I chickened out, though, but mouthed a request to a passer-by to call the police. The passer-by happened to be the teacher on the TEFL course I did in Spain ages ago, but looked as if he had fallen on hard times. Anyway, the leader of the roughs must have suspected something, because he told me that "if two nice policemen turned up later on, there'd be...blood". Crikey! But then I woke up, and so that got me out of any trouble.

Although it has warmed up a bit lately, there was frost last night, and the ground was still slippery as I was on my way to work in the morning. The shoes I was wearing were not the most appropriate for these circumstances, and so I was slipping and sliding like the proverbial shiting duck for a while. At one point I had to reach out and grab the nearest object to steady myself. Unfortunately, this was a particularly nasty thorn-bush. That kind of hurt. Also, I found it difficult to extract myself from the bush, as items of my clothing were stuck to it. I'm sure I'll laugh about it one day.

Another unpleasant thing that happened was that I managed to burn myself by accidentally touching the grill last night. Luckily, I wasn't electrocuted (I always assumed those things were live, but I guess that would be stupid), but I do have a char-grilled knuckle now.

And that's it. Nothing else has happened.

Do you think that The Unbelievable Truth is the most underrated band in history? Yes, yes you do.

So, I arrived back in Oxford on Sunday night after more than two weeks away. Most of this time was spent in Bristol visiting steenybean , but I also enjoyed a brief visit to Leeds, where I did Christmas things.

One thing that happened just before I left Leeds was that one of my dental crowns broke for no readily apparent reason. Grrr. Still, it has been a while since the last breakage. Anyway, I went to the dentist today and had a temporary one put on, and I am to go back on Thursday to have impressions taken. Please supply your own impressions joke here.

What else has happened? Nothing of any great import. I have no New Year's resolutions. I half resolved not to eat too much this year, but have started my first week back at work by eating curry, a roast chicken dinner, and pudding. Not all at the same time, you understand. But still. I now have a fancy metal steamer so I shall aim to eat steamed vegetables regularly. That is surely healthy in some way. Also, I have brought back warmer jogging garb, so I can jog in the cold. But not when it is as cold as it is now. Jesus H. Christ it's cold. The canal is even frozen over. I am very disappointed with the South. Ever since I moved down here the weather has been not at all tropical. Ho hum.

SUPA-KWIZ! 1) My name is Prince. Where do I live? Cheltenham. In a quince. With my husband, Vince. A place that makes me wince.

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I swear I didn't write this Wikipedia article.

BBC1: Bloody hell, isn't Robert Peston annoying?

ITV: I saw a trailer for GMTV which went something like this:

Tomorrow morning, snow and freezing temperatures are expected across Britain. Tune in to GMTV for the latest on the total chaos expected! The Weather - on GMTV.

So that will be fun. Join us after the break. I don't remember seeing this authentic African refreshment for ages. Can you still get it?

And finally, I think I want this T-shirt (or whatever it is), which was posted on Engrish.com recently:

So, I see that Woolworths and MFI are going bust. I don't think I have bought anything in a Woolies for yonks. I chiefly associate Woolies with the fact that when Barm and I both attempted to get jobs there, Barm succeeded and I failed. I didn't understand why he made it and I didn't, but with hindsight it was possibly because he is better at talking to members of staff of shops, and, conversely, must therefore be better at talking to members of the public as a member of staff of a shop.

MFI is amusing because I can't help but think of its initials standing for "Mother Fuckers International" (much as CSI stands for "Cock Suckers International"). Does anyone remember ELS, the furniture store? Their jingle went "ELS is a better price, yes". It rhymed, at least.

On an unrelated note (well, related in that it rhymes), do you remember YTV's Christmas Line? Their jingle was "Ring YTV's Christmas Line on Leeds 448199". I never did ring, and it is a waste of space in my brain that I remember it. I only seem to remember phone numbers that I no longer need.