I wonder what demon of perversity prompts me every time I start making a phone call, to amble into the kitchen, phone in one hand, to make a cup of tea?
Ah well, it's only taken me eight calls but at last I have a cup of tea, my insurance is sorted, my sewing machine part is paid for, two of Barney's customers are peacefully confident that they will be called by him tonight and ouch, the tea's hot!
What with Blogger and being sleepy I'd sort of forgotten that we had a weekend. Quite a busy weekend too. There was Fran and HF arriving with the last of their posessions and now HF is installed here until they find somewhere to live. And Thursday and Joe (the spanner) Brown turned up for coffee which was delightful and then we had a gig in the evening which was very good..it was for Christian Aid and I have to say, the Christian Aid people are a very jolly crowd. They all dance nearly all the time and there are lots of them. And the girl who accompanied me when I did my grade eight fiddle exam was there. This made me think how much nicer it is to play in a band than to play for an examiner. And, after a bit more thought, how much nicer it is to be gently addicted to Blogging than desparately hooked on making grades.
Still it was lovely to see her and we did enjoy practicing together even if the end result was a fairly comprehensive failure. (I made a note in my computer, which has survived a number of disc changes and collapses and file tidyings, which said, "Just remember, you don't ever want to do this again") .

Speaking of perversity

Look at my next attempt on the white bread.
Clearly brown is better.

However, I'm glad to say, the strange looking flat loaves strongly resemble crumpet. The sort you toast. So we'll be having crumpets (sort of) for tea for a while.
If anyone can give me a good recipe for white bread using 1lb of flour and a breadmaker I'll be very grateful. If it works in our bread maker which I suspect has its own little, perverse demon inside it. A brown, little, perverse demon. With knobs on.

More yeast? New Blogger!!!!!!!

Oh dear. That didn't work very well.
I tried oil in the bread mixture instead of butter. Sad thing is the wholemeal/white mixture we normally make is perfectly fine. But Barney misses his white So we've been experimenting.
Well at least it didn't explode :)

Meanwhile, just now, I discovered this button. I never noticed it before. Always thought people who could do big and little fonts were being very clever with html. Well they are clever enough to notice the little button that says 'normal size'!*
However I attempted to publish all this just now with picasa and it seems to have vanished. You may or may not get to see this.
Or you may get to see several slightly different versions with different bits in different size fonts, Alice in Wonderland style.

Well, I saved all this and then a quicktime security upload told me I needed it. So I closed evrything (as you do) and after doing that, went back to blogger only to be told that I am all ready to be moved to beta blogger.** Not wishing to be pushed into anything so potentially exasperating just now, thankyou, I closed it and tried again. Three times. But this time they mean it! So now I'm on Beta.
I'm not quite sure what this is going to mean. But I've labelled it!

*Just next to the button that says font.
**A bit like coming home and finding a removal van outside your gate with all your goods and chattels packed away and the door locked and bolted. And a little note saying here's the key to your new place. Just follow the van.

My old man said, (well blogger did actually) "Follow the van, don't dilly dally on the way!"
Off went the cart with the home packed in it,
I walked behind with me old cock linnet.
But I dillied and dallied, dallied and dillied,
Lost the van and don't know where to roam.
You can't trust the specials like the old-time coppers
When you can't find your way home.

My old man said, "Follow the van, don't dilly dally on the way!"
Off went the cart with the home packed in it,
I walked behind with me old cock linnet.
But I dillied and dallied, dallied and dillied,
Lost the van and don't know where to roam.
Now who's going to put up the old iron bedstead
If I can't find my way home?

I didn't dilly dally much though, so it looks as if I have arrived at the right place. Slightly dishevelled and disgruntled in that way you are when you want to be cross but there doesn't seem to be anything you can complain about.