#177 Elizabeth Bear: Worldwired

Elizabeth Bear: Worldwired

Mass Market Paperback: 416 pages
Publisher: Bantam Books (29 Nov 2005)
ISBN-10: 0553587498
ISBN-13: 978-0553587494
Category(ies): SF

( The review )

The conclusion to a stunning story.

#177 Elizabeth Bear: Worldwired

Elizabeth Bear: Worldwired

Mass Market Paperback: 416 pages
Publisher: Bantam Books (29 Nov 2005)
ISBN-10: 0553587498
ISBN-13: 978-0553587494
Category(ies): SF

( The review )

The conclusion to a stunning story.

Oh Bugger!

Things I really didn't need, #1

I came into work this morning, turned on the monitor, and tapped the NumLock key on the keypad (my favourite way of rousing a PC from its slumbers - I have the screen power down after 15 minutes - NumLock is a corner key and so easy to hit, won't send unexpected input to any program, provides immediate feedback, and is less obnoxious than CapsLock).

The NumLock indicator on the keyboard didn't toggle. The 3 finger salute did nothing. The reset button didn't work. Hmmm ... interesting. The power button was not working either.

( ... )

The silly thing is, this machine was due to be replaced tomorrow. Its replacement (a scary looking Dell workstation jobbie with an internal wind tunnel cooling setup) has been sitting in the tech support guy's office for a month.

In the meantime, I've now got full 32-bit colour at 1920x1200, thanks to the changed graphics card, and the processors run at 1600 MHz rather than the 1200 MHz of the dead machine, so in some respects, it's an improvement.

Oh Bugger!

Things I really didn't need, #1

I came into work this morning, turned on the monitor, and tapped the NumLock key on the keypad (my favourite way of rousing a PC from its slumbers - I have the screen power down after 15 minutes - NumLock is a corner key and so easy to hit, won't send unexpected input to any program, provides immediate feedback, and is less obnoxious than CapsLock).

The NumLock indicator on the keyboard didn't toggle. The 3 finger salute did nothing. The reset button didn't work. Hmmm ... interesting. The power button was not working either.

( ... )

The silly thing is, this machine was due to be replaced tomorrow. Its replacement (a scary looking Dell workstation jobbie with an internal wind tunnel cooling setup) has been sitting in the tech support guy's office for a month.

In the meantime, I've now got full 32-bit colour at 1920x1200, thanks to the changed graphics card, and the processors run at 1600 MHz rather than the 1200 MHz of the dead machine, so in some respects, it's an improvement.

Update

Thank you all those who were sending their best wishes in the direction of my mother earlier this week.

We went over to visit her in Northampton Hospital yesterday evening. (It's a bit of a drive - made worse by our going early after work, so getting caught in home-going traffic - but not too bad.) We spent about 75 minutes there, being chucked out some five minutes or so after visiting hours were supposed to be over.

Mum, I'm happy to say, was her normal self. OK, so she had a shunt in the back of her right hand, but that's standard procedure the moment medics decide more than a single injection is going to be required. She also had a tube to drain the wound, but she was awake, alert, and not noticeably in pain (some discomfort is to be expected when a chunk has been cut out of you). If it wasn't that she was in a hospital ward, and resting on a bed rather than sitting in a chair, there'd otherwise be no evidence that she'd just had a piece of flesh the size of an egg cut out.

As for possible spreading, that's waiting on tests, so we won't know any more for a week or two. She's coming home today, and my baby sister is heading up to meet her. I phoned my other sister last night (disturbing her as she rootled around under a plane at Orlando airport) to let her know the situation. As far as scenarios are concerned, everything is so far compatible with the best possible outcome.

Tomorrow, we'll be in Ireland. It feels a little odd heading away while this is happening, but everything is currently going fine, there's nothing sensible we can do except get in the way, so pursuing normal life seems the best thing to do.

Update

Thank you all those who were sending their best wishes in the direction of my mother earlier this week.

We went over to visit her in Northampton Hospital yesterday evening. (It's a bit of a drive - made worse by our going early after work, so getting caught in home-going traffic - but not too bad.) We spent about 75 minutes there, being chucked out some five minutes or so after visiting hours were supposed to be over.

Mum, I'm happy to say, was her normal self. OK, so she had a shunt in the back of her right hand, but that's standard procedure the moment medics decide more than a single injection is going to be required. She also had a tube to drain the wound, but she was awake, alert, and not noticeably in pain (some discomfort is to be expected when a chunk has been cut out of you). If it wasn't that she was in a hospital ward, and resting on a bed rather than sitting in a chair, there'd otherwise be no evidence that she'd just had a piece of flesh the size of an egg cut out.

As for possible spreading, that's waiting on tests, so we won't know any more for a week or two. She's coming home today, and my baby sister is heading up to meet her. I phoned my other sister last night (disturbing her as she rootled around under a plane at Orlando airport) to let her know the situation. As far as scenarios are concerned, everything is so far compatible with the best possible outcome.

Tomorrow, we'll be in Ireland. It feels a little odd heading away while this is happening, but everything is currently going fine, there's nothing sensible we can do except get in the way, so pursuing normal life seems the best thing to do.