Algorithms for the masses - julian m bucknall

Len Deighton RIP

julian m bucknall — Tue, 17 Mar 2026 20:15:00 GMT

One of favorite authors from my late teens into my 20s was Len Deighton, who died today aged 97. Not only for his spy novels that started with The IPCRESS File, but also for his cookery books.

It’s that last connection that made me write this quick post. Back in the day, we moved to France in 1964 and lived in Le Havre for three years. This complete change of lifestyle, customs, and living was startling (plus, having to learn another language at 7 years old). The biggest thing of all was learning a new way of cooking, or cuisine, with different ingredients than we were used to. No beans on toast here.

Right from the start, Dad became very attracted to French cooking. He’d spent about a year commuting back and forth to his new job in Le Havre before my parents decided that we should just move there. During that time, he had to look after himself, and this involved going to restaurants when he couldn’t be bothered to cook. In which, of course, he ate and enjoyed many different food and recipes. I remember him saying once how much he enjoyed a bowl of mussels in one of his fave restaurants. Wot’s mussels?

In 1967 he bought a couple of recipe books, authored by Len Deighton: Action Cook Book, and Où Est Le Garlic.

Deighton's cookbooks

The fascinating thing about these cookbooks is that they are based on the cookstrips that Deighton used to write for the Observer newspaper. Cookstrips that had an illustration drawn by Deighton himself that accompanied the recipe or cooking details.

Let’s put it like this: Dad used these books a lot, even when we moved back to England. I was lucky in that when Mum and Dad passed away 16 years ago, I managed to grab the books before my sister could. Ha!

It has one recipe that I use a lot: Rillettes. Mainly because I fell in love with rillettes du Mans (which are made with duck, not pork) when I was young. Dad used it too, since he even wrote a couple of things to help with the recipe.

Rillettes recipe

The other thing about Deighton’s cookstrips that has always made me giggle is the movie The IPCRESS File which starred Michael Caine and which came out in 1965. There’s one scene where Harry Palmer (Caine’s character) is in the kitchen cooking something for Jean Courtney (played by Sue Lloyd). There, stuck on the kitchen wall, is … a Deighton cookstrip torn out from the newspaper.

Cookstrip on wall

It's actually a cooking recipe from Où est Le Garlic:

Braisé recipe

Anyway, I’ll be going downstairs into our basement to find the DVD of The IPCRESS File and I’ll be watching it again. RIP, Mr Deighton.

Goodbye Zephyrus, you wonderful cat

julian m bucknall — Thu, 05 Mar 2026 01:30:00 GMT

It's been a really hard day. We had to say goodbye to Zephyrus, one of our cats. This is my wife's post about him.

Zephyrus's story has an unknown start but picks up when he showed up at the backdoor of our vet's office when he was about 18 months to two years old. It was freezing cold outside and he came for food. He was skittish and would stay just far enough away. After a couple of days, one of the vet techs said "stuff it" and she was going to follow him. She followed him and found that he was living under a park bench surrounded by tumbleweeds. Who knows how he had managed to survive since it had been a particularly cold several weeks and it turns out that he had no front claws. The cold winds of winter gave him frostbite. His ears froze, fell forward, and then cauliflowered. He had frostbite on his bottom lip and his nose. He would most times smell through his mouth and he had a twitch on his left leg/paw likely due to some nerve damage somewhere.

But he was a fighter. A calm and gentle fighter but a fighter no less.

He recuperated with our vet and while there he crossed paths with Julian when he went to pick up Aristaeus' pawprint. J decided that McZ was definitely going to come live with us, and within a few days he told me that he wanted me to meet a cat at the vet so see if he was a fit for us. I really had no choice, and I was a bit worried because Zephy seemed to be so untrusting that I wasn't sure he could bridge the gap. We brought him home to meet his brothers. At first, he feared people (he didn't particularly like women) and plastic bags. In our minds we think he was chucked out by a woman in a plastic bag and somehow, he managed to survive. Every day when it was cold outside we would be reminded of what McZ suffered and we were glad that we were able to give him a safe, warm home.

Sadly, because of his ears people always thought he was mad but he wasn't - he was handsome. Just in a different way.

On the day he came home with us, J and I went off to lunch. While eating chips and salsa, we pulled out our Greek mythology book in search of name for our new kitten. It was the Ides of March in 2014. Trying out different ideas for our newest ginger cat we landed on Zephyrus - the Greek god of the west wind, the warm spring winds. The winter wind had lashed out at him, but we were giving him warmth, a safe home, and a family. Over the years his nicknames were Zephy, Zephy Z, McZ, and ZZ.

Musey, our tabby who got along with everybody, welcomed McZ and soon so did his other brothers (although he and Tyke would spar at each other with swear words now and then). When Sirius came along, McZ commandeered himself to be Sirius' buddy whether Sirus liked it or not. Sirius would "puppy purr" at him when Z would headbutt him or wash his forehead or curl up next to him. While Siri would complain for a few seconds, he just gave up and the two would be fine with each other and McZ totally happy to be with his puppy brother. Sometimes he enjoyed Siri's food - in the mornings if Sirius was being non-committal about eating his breakfast all it took was McZ coming by and sniffing at his plate to make Sirius eat his breakfast. McZ would then wait to see if there was anything left that he might be able to lick off the plate (usually no, but there might be a chopped carrot or two).

Favorite cat pad

Z was a long, lean ginger with a titch of white on the edge of his rather long tail. He would be very particular about how he tucked the end of his tail when snoozing. He had springs in his back legs and would jump higher than any of his brothers. When spooked by something, sometimes he would do the hop up into the air thing and he got fairly high off the ground. He was always cautious on approach and we could never quite break him of that. One time we came home to find him on the mantel over the fireplace looking rather pleased with himself that he was up there and also that he knocked down and damaged the rim of one of the large glass vases (which still is on the mantle today). Oh, and the times at Christmas when he would walk on the banisters in between the garlands and look at me and say "see mom, I did it." He and I had some words over that habit.

He loved having his belly rubbed (only by his mum) and his forehead and whiskers. When he would sit, his posture was so good that he reminded me of the cat in the Chat Noir French poster, only being the ginger cat version. When held, he did not like being held in your arm like a baby but preferred to be held against my chest and being able to see over my shoulder. Or, sometimes held in my left arm under his belly and chest so that he could put his paws on the forearm of my right arm and be carried like he was on a cushioned pillow.

He was a slow eater and loved a little bit of fish if we were having it for dinner. It was as if he savored every bite which was unlike his brothers who scarfed their food down. Maybe that's why as he got older he maintained his leanness. He loved to have an open window and would sometimes beg for the window to be open even in the middle of winter. He would sit with his paws on the window sill, look out surveying the 'hood and sniff the air. Only one time did he sneak out the front door - I heard meowing in the middle of the night that sounded like it was coming from outside but didn't think anything of it until I went to the front door and there he was waiting to come inside. Never again did he go close to the front door. As for the back door… well every once in a while, his dad would let him roll in the grass or sit on the cool concrete for a few minutes when he and Musey conspired to make a run for it or push open the screen. It would not last long because then he would scamper back inside. He was an indoor cat now and he was just fine with that. That isn't to say that he would not sit at the back sliding door crying and beg Julian to open it. And then when we did he just sniffed the air.

I was determined to teach him that getting loving was okay. At the beginning, when he would inch closer I would put him on my chest, hold him there and give him loving. He would literally disassociate. He could only take it for about 10 seconds. But slowly he gave in and each night would have his bedtime ritual of sitting on his mum's chest for minutes after minutes of purrs, treadles, kisses, and loving. He got into the habit of perching himself on the footboard of the bed meowing at me while I was getting ready for bed to tell me to hurry up. Afterwards he would sit on the pillow and we would read the news together or read email before tucking in for the night or even sometimes in the middle of the night when mom could not sleep. Sometimes he would stay and treadle in my hair or sleep with his head tucked into my neck, on my chest, or against my head. He was always ready to give his mum a lovely quiet and measured purr. He would give me kisses on my forehead and the edge of my eyebrow. Even when he moved from the pillow, he stayed close by us either on the bed or under the bed.

He was always protective of me even when we were working through his trust issues. He would follow me around, always a titch behind me ready to pounce on whatever he perceived as a threat. He almost went through a screen to get to a stray cat that showed up in the yard that he thought was coming at me when I opened the window. Whatever his past, he made sure protecting me was his job.

No matter my initial concerns about the two of us connecting, he became a mama's boy. He would love to curl up long ways along my leg and wrap himself around my arm when I was reading or watching a movie. He particularly enjoyed it if mum gave him a belly rub at the same time. He would purr and then next thing he would be snoozing. But that was only something mum could do. He loved J and they had their moments but as J would tell me - in ZZ's book daddy's lovin' is okay; mummy's is the best.

Ducky and mouse!

He had a few select toys - ducky who had to be moved to the shelf because Sirius tried to chew on him, and his plain old grey mouse that would routinely end up on the bed. He would cry and walk around with mouse or ducky (before forced retirement) and tell us all about how his day was going. He had a million other toys but those two - they were the best. Another favorite was his scratching boxes even though he didn't have front claws.

He loved sitting under the Christmas tree and would prefer to eat his dinner there during the holidays. He loved a snooze in the sunshine in my craft room but would then move to one of the empty cubby shelves so he had it all to himself. And, sometimes his felt kitten cave was good too. But when the fireplace was turned on - well that was rather lovely!

The final big tumor

Our lovely boy was given a clean bill of health over the summer but shortly thereafter he developed a cancer tumor in the armpit area of his right front leg in July, 2025. He made it through surgery with our local vet with flying colors and we were told that the tumor may or may not come back. There was no timeline for when it would come back if it did. He had his surgery as we were also having to say goodbye to our little boy Hermes.

We remained hopeful that we'd have many more years with Zephy. McZ was doing well but when we came back from England in September a new tumor appeared close to where the first one had been. The vet at the Colorado State University Vet School told us that McZ was a good candidate for a second surgery and so McZ did it again. He made it through surgery and was given a guarded outlook because of the type of cancer. By late November, a third tumor appeared but this time toward the top of his shoulder. He was a trooper during the multiple 2 hour one-way trips to/from Fort Collins.

There was nothing we could do - although he was a fighter he would not be able to sustain a third surgery and there was no guarantee that it would not be a continued vicious cycle of more tumors coming back each more aggressive than the previous one. Plus, the times of anesthesia had started to affect his kidneys because for some reason we still can't figure out how to make an anesthesia that isn't so hard on cats. The vets and vet techs at the university loved McZ and thought he was one of the kindest and gentlest ginger cats. Our little boy continued to fight on… but we knew that his battle would end much sooner than we wanted.

Looking out of the window
in his onesie

We knew that today would come but knowing that did not make it any easier. For a while he did okay but the tumor continued to grow. Sometimes it seemed it doubled in size overnight. His newborn/0-3 month baby shirts that we bought to protect his incisions were now being used to protect him from scratching at the tumor. They barely stayed on him but in the end even those were starting to get too tight because of the size of the tumor. The tumor moved back down and was going around his leg and toward the front of his chest and he looked like a football player with pads only on one side. He became slower, less talkative but still wanted loving and to curl up. His purrs were fewer and his bright beautiful green eyes started to weep. He lost a lot of weight with the tumor probably weighing more than he did. He was struggling this past week and the tumor started to affect his balance. Sadly, we had to make the decision that it was time to say our goodbyes. Not because we wanted to. If we could, we would hold him and love him forever but we needed to do the right thing for him.

This morning he curled up in the sunshine and took in some fresh air sniffs in the open window. He got cuddles, treadles, purrs, belly rubs, and kisses. He had a bit of tilapia with his dinner yesterday evening, and cuddles and treadles with his mum at bedtime. He got a good nuzzle with ducky and mouse. Sirius gave him a sniff this morning before heading off to daycare.

It's the hardest thing to say goodbye and hard to know when to make that decision. He was a lovely little "rescue" who took a chance on us. He could have bolted and gone back to living a life on the streets, but he didn't. He stayed. He trusted us. He loved us (even though he still hated the sound of a plastic bag). He was our street cred ginger. He outwardly showed the scars of how awful people can be but he also showed through his love, trust, and protectiveness that he did not have to be defined by those scars. Thank you, Zephy, for trusting us and letting us love you, care for you, and keep you warm.

Zephyrus was named for the gentle west wind/spring wind that is soft and mild. It was a name that fit him well. Underneath what looked like a battle-worn exterior, he was gentle and kind. He was quiet and full of love for those he trusted. He had street cred. He was a handsome ginger who quietly but courageously braved each of his battles.

Ride the warm winds my darling Zephyrus. We love you and will miss you dearly.

Goodbye Hermes, you ginger cat

julian m bucknall — Thu, 21 Aug 2025 00:00:00 GMT

This past week has been hard, especially over the weekend. Yesterday was really awful and we cried a lot. The reason? Our eldest cat, Hermes, had to be euthanized because his kidneys has given up. Hermes had just turned 18 in July, and we've had him 13 years.

There was no viable way we could get him better and, even though our vet said we could try daily subcutaneous fluid injections, she did say it wouldn't give him any real longer life and would be painful for him. We'd already had to do that with two of our previous cats (Orpheus and Eurydice) and it only really lasted two or three months before they were too far gone. She recommended euthanasia.

Hermes already wasn't in the best of health and we had been giving him daily methimazole tablets over the past couple of years because he'd suffered from hyperthyroidism. And indeed, in the past few months, our vet recommended also using a transdermal methimazole gel, which is a weird thing, since you administer it to the inner ear of the cat. I would apply it into his left ear on odd-numbered days and into his right ear on even-numbered days.

Even so, he'd been losing weight gradually over the past few months, to the extent I'd go and buy him treats (roasted chicken pieces and tuna) so that he would at least eat something.

But by last Friday, it was obvious that he was deteriorating quickly. His eyes were gooey, he wasn't eating (not even his treats), and he was wobbling even worse than before when he walked. Saturday morning, I took him to our vet as soon as they opened (even without an appointment), and they took a blood sample while they checked him. The vet told us that he was really dehydrated which indicated that he had kidney problems, and recommended we keep him in sight over the weekend in case something happened. And, we were to keep a bowl of water next to him where he slept so he could drink when he awoke. The blood test results came back on Monday, and indicated that his kidneys were done for.

Hermes on his last day

We arranged with Home with Dignity for a vet to come to our house and euthanize Hermes at home yesterday morning. Yes, it was hard, but doing it at home meant that Hermes wasn't scared through being driven somewhere in a cat carrier. He was quiet and peaceful and we gave him lots of loving through strokes and kisses while the vet injected him to euthanize him.

Hermes was a ginger rescue cat. He'd lived with a family for the first five years of his life, but their son abused him, even sexually (which I never wanted to think about) and our vet took him in to rescue him. I saw him possibly a month later at the vets when I took in one of our other cats for a check-up, and a week or so later took Donna in to meet him. Whereas with me he just kinda looked at me, with her he went up to her and wanted strokes and loving. No contest, we took him in.

His name had been Moses, but that didn't fit in with our cat crew who all have Greek mythology names. We decided instead to name him Hermes, after the Greek deity who had winged sandals. When he was a kitten, Hermes had all his claws removed -- something I can't get my head around -- so it seemed somehow appropriate.

Hermes when he came to stay

He settled in pretty quickly, becoming big friends with Musaeus, our tabby cat at the time. In fact, he kind of crowned himself as the Boss Cat of our home, ordering the others around. Even better, he was not going to be intimidated by our puppy, Sirius, when he came to live with us. No sir, I'm the Boss Cat, you walk around me, I'm not getting out of your way!

He was a cat who needed and got loving from us, resulting in big, deep purrs. He also got very used to their evening meals: when he heard the cat food tin being opened he'd get into the kitchen pretty much first, and would lick the others' plates clean after they'd wandered off. Over the past year, he also got into the habit of hearing the fridge door being opened, and then walking into the kitchen miaowing for some treats. I'd have to prep him a small plate of roasted chicken pieces, while I made a bacon butty breakfast for us.

He also had preferred sleeping places around the house, be it on his preferred pad, in a cat cave bed, in a fabric basket in Donna's craftroom, on the bed while we slept. Over the past month we've had a cardboard delivery box on the floor ready to be recycled, but he claimed it and slept in it for hours at a time. We just didn't dare recycle it.

It's only been a day, but we and the remaining cats are missing him. Goodbye, Hermes O'Kitten, we love you and miss you a great deal.

Even more brain rot

julian m bucknall — Tue, 21 Jan 2025 22:00:00 GMT

There was I thinking – when I wrote my previous blog post – that I could circumvent the brain rot I was tolerating. Nope.

Voicemail from the beginning of this year:

“Hello. I'm calling you today as a courtesy. Your number was given as a point of contact to reach [some name] Please inform [some name] that they have been named as a person of interest in an important matter that requires their immediate attention. Federal law prohibits me from disclosing any further information. If you know this person, please press 1 now or contact us directly at 833 883 2793. Again, that phone number is 833 883 2793. Thank you for your help today.”

Right, no freaking way. A quick google search and the number has been identified as a debt collection scam.

Another one? Sure. It’s an offer for a loan! Right, really trustworthy that: a phone call from some company I’ve never heard of offering a loan.

“I hope you’re ready for some good news. We have you prequalified for an up to $45,000 loan, with very affordable monthly payments of less than $455 a month. This is our way to help out select clients for a special rate this new year. This offer is only available for preferred clients and it’s non-transferable. So please give me a call back at 855 501 0994.”

Of course I then had to do some interest rate calculations, given my past long ago with swaps trading, banking, etc. If this were a 10-year loan, the interest rate would be 4%, with total repayments of $54,600. A 12-year loan: 6.6%, total $65,520. A 15-year loan: 9%, total $81,900. So, given today’s financial markets, a 10-year loan looks OK, but other than that, nope. I’m certainly not going to phone back and find out.

Time for a text! From a phone number in the Philippines no less!

“Pay your FastTrak Lane tolls by January 19, 2025. To avoid a fine and keep your license, you can pay at
https://ezdrivemaqe[.]top/track
(Please reply Y, then exit the text message and open it again to activate the link, or copy the link into your Safari browser and open it)”

Of course this was sent on January 19. I did like the explicit way to “activate” the link: in replying to the text, iOS will assume that the phone number it was sent from is legit and then the next time you open the text you can click the link directly. Needless to say, I deleted the text and reported it as junk (not that I am confident that actually does something, jaundiced, me?).

Admittedly, that wasn’t the only brain rot text I’ve had this year:

“Laguna Fabrics
##USAA_FRAUD_PREVENTIONS: $350 charged at LAGUNA FABRICS on 01/09 at 4:15PM. Not you? Cancel at https://centre[.]is/USAA_/”

The UPPERCASE stuff must make it totally legit. Oh and I got this text at 5:21pm on the same day. Really rapid detection of fraud…

Talking of rapid detection of fraud, I just received two emails from the same address within two minutes of each other, with exactly the same text apart from the amounts. The first promised me a “Batch Settlement” of $41,814.00, and the second the same “Batch Settlement” but of $41,122.00. Right! Totally legit, but it’s a shame the settlement is going down! I should’ve opened the first attached PDF quickly…

Playing: Shakatakadoodub by Kruder & Dorfmeister, especially as the spellcheck gives up.

Brain rot

julian m bucknall — Wed, 11 Dec 2024 00:30:00 GMT

You may have read a couple of weeks ago that brain rot was named the Oxford Word of the Year for 2024. The definition read as follows: “the supposed deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state, especially viewed as the result of overconsumption of material (now particularly online content) considered to be trivial or unchallenging.”

To me this seemed to hit home, especially given the election palaver over the past few months here in the States. In a way it brought forward my “overconsumption” of the news articles and so on that I was reading up until Election Day. Sure it’s great to subscribe to The Guardian, especially as it’s from the UK so I was getting a different viewpoint, but I got into the habit of refreshing the front page every half-hour or so in the evenings, Britain time. Which of course leached into evenings, Colorado time.

Since then, over the past month, I’ve been trying to restrict my perusal of the news, especially given the nominations for the new US government in January. Also hasn’t helped with all the other goings on in the world of course, but I’m trying.

Another brain rot alleviation is to stay away from Twitter. Sorry, X. It’s getting to be all brain rot through and through. Thanks, Musk.

Another brain rot problem in a way is scammy emails. Oh yes, I purge them without reading any more than the brief synopsis that Outlook gives me, but sometimes I can’t resist. How about this one, sent to my DevExpress email account?

“Just following up to let you know that [CompanyName] can provide skilled iSeries/AS400 and cloud migration professionals within 48 hours.”

For f*ck’s sake, why advertise AS/400 skills as needed for DevExpress? We’re entirely PC-based. I even took a look at my résumé and although I mention the IBM System/38 (the precursor to the AS/400) from my job 36 years ago, never have I worked on an AS/400. Sure, in a way, I miss programming in RPG III but not much.

Yet another brain rot? I’ve been getting scam phone calls. The “best” one – received several times now – was from a “collection agency”. Always as a voicemail, sometimes two within a 10-minute span:

“This is an urgent and time-sensitive message from SRS. Please return our call using the number on your Caller ID to be connected to a live representative. Please return our call as soon as possible.”

Yeah, not. No friggin’ way. Especially as the Caller ID was different every time.

One of the things I’ve started doing again to alleviate brain rot is … reading fiction. Sure I read job- and programming-related stuff all the time, but I got out of the habit of reading fiction. One book I can really recommend is Ian Rankin’s latest: Midnight and Blue. Yes, it’s a John Rebus thriller, but I’ve read them all and ever since that final bit of A Heart Full of Headstones, I’ve been waiting to grab the next one in the series. Well worth it, if you are an Ian Rankin fan.

Playing: Zoo York by Paul Oakenfold. Yep, sometimes brain rot needs some trance music…

Goodbye Musaeus, you wonderful tabby

julian m bucknall — Thu, 07 Nov 2024 22:00:00 GMT

Yesterday was, shall we say, a really awful day. Our tabby cat, Musaeus, has not been too well over the past couple of months, losing weight like crazy despite being the one cat in our feline assortment who ate the most every dinner time. He’d also gotten into the habit of suddenly awakening at like four in the morning and then miaowing in the bedroom to make sure everyone was awake and could give him some loving. He’d also decided that having a sleep by the laundry basket was the best thing. Yesterday, he was there, miaowing every now and then until I stroked him and got him to purr. The last time was just after lunch, and I was worried enough to phone our vet to see if I couldn’t bring him in for an emergency checkup. Of course, I’d forgotten that our vet closes on Wednesday afternoons, so I resolved to take him in as soon as I could the next day, snowstorm permitting. But the next time I checked up on him a couple of hours later, he’d passed away and my heart broke.

Musy was part of a litter that one of our neighbors at the time was fostering, and my wife used to go over to help out occasionally and cuddle the litter. One of our first cats, Orpheus, had died a year earlier and we’d already got a ginger kitten (we named him Perseus, who was conceived in a shower of gold) from a previous foster litter. This time? Musy was always the one who would go to her and roll over on his back with his front paws in the air, like he was mimicking Superman. Well, lo and behold, that did the trick and we said we’d take him. That was July 2009, so we’ve had him for over 15 years.

Why the name Musaeus? Well it turns out that in Greek mythology Musaeus was either a son or a disciple of Orpheus. Since both Orpheus and Musy were tabby cats, we just settled on the “is a son of” part and that became his name. Since he was a small kitten compared with the other three, he also became known as Littlest.

Musy in the vet's sink

Musy was a really friendly cat. He’d purr like crazy when stroked. He quickly became a brother to the other three cats and would cuddle with them, wash them, and play with them. He was also a fan of the elastic hair ties that my wife would use for her long hair, and steal them to flick them around the house. Every time I move the sofa or the armchair to clean underneath, I’d find the hair ties he’d have flicked there.

One vice he did have was to sharpen his claws on the carpet on the stairs. Not on the sofa, since that would be a vertical claw sharpening exercise, but on each step of the stairs since it was horizontal. We quickly had to buy some double-sided sticky tape and put it on the sides of every step on the stairs to discourage this foible. That wasn’t his only bad habit though. The cats have a water fountain to drink filtered water from, it being easier to maintain than the water bowl the puppy has. Well, a few years ago, Musy discovered that he could head-butt the lid of the water fountain off and then a short while afterwards he discovered how to head-butt off the filter container of the fountain with the result of water all over the floor. Every time I’d clean the water fountain and replace the filter, I got into the habit of taping down both parts so that he couldn’t head-butt them off.

He had another bad habit too: he was lithe and powerful enough that he could jump up from the floor onto the island and countertops we have in the kitchen. Once there, he’d lick the butter from the butter dish, knock off stuff onto the floor, and do other naughty things. We got into the habit of making sure we’d put everything away and that the lid was on the butter dish.

Like all our cats he was an indoor cat, but every now and then in the summer we’d let him out with his brother Zephyrus into the back yard so that they could sniff around, roll in the grass, and just explore. Under direct supervision of course, we weren’t going to see if they could jump the fence or something equally dangerous.

Musy cuddling Hermes

It’s only been a day, but already we are missing him. Yesterday evening was weird since I only had to put cat food onto 4 plates instead of the usual 5, and Musy wasn’t the first in the kitchen for dinner time like he used to be. Even this morning, as I turned off the shower, I thought I heard a Musy miaow as he used to do in the past.

Once upon a time there was a wonderful friendly tabby called Musaeus who loved us as much as we loved him. Goodbye Littlest, we miss you a great deal already.

Catching up …with the past

julian m bucknall — Thu, 26 Sep 2024 01:00:00 GMT

Earlier this month, I confirmed, by looking it up in an old diary I’d kept, that it had been exactly 45 years since I started my first job as a programmer after university. 10 September 1979, with CAP Group, at their offices in High Holborn, London. Sure, I’d had previous “manual” type jobs (working on a local farm to my parents over the previous summer I was getting £1.20 per hour!), but they were not career-defining ones like that first one. If memory serves, I think I started at £4,200 per year, plus £600 London weighting. We had two weeks of training on some kind of PDP 11, using MicroCobol as the language, using 8-inch diskettes, before getting some real work. Ah, memories, memories.

At that time I was living in a bedsit in Herne Hill, London. Next door, in another bedsit, was my friend Alison, who I’d first met in the King’s College Halls of Residence some 3 years earlier. As it happened, when we went to England on vacation in early September we stayed at a rather lovely hotel in Wells, Somerset. And it so happens Wells is where Alison now lives, so of course we had to meet up and have a long chat. It had been over 35 years since we last saw each other, although these days we follow each other on Facebook. Another old friend was there too, staying with Alison: Denese. A fabulous evening! Ah, memories, memories.

Another anniversary for 2024 is the 60th birthday of my Volvo 1800S. From the chassis number on the identification plate, it was probably built in February 1964, and was sold to its first owner in Alabama in August 1964. So I’ll have to pop open a bottle of champagne and share it with the car…

And then a friend of mine posted on Facebook that she was celebrating 40 years in the theatre. Of course, at that point, I had to go check my personal theatre history: my first part was in A Murder is Announced for the Dulwich Players in – wait for it… – January 1984! So this year I’ve been acting and directing for 40 years too! Wowza.

Of course, thinking back to those very early days acting in London, I had to go look through what parts I’d had and to see if I could remember anyone. There was one person in particular who really helped me in my early acting career, Jenny Gammon. As far as I remember she was a professional actor on stage, but decided to give it up, get married, and have children. Instead of pursuing the professional career she would help out with local amateur dramatics groups such as the Dulwich Players, and the South London Theatre in West Norwood, either acting, directing or helping out back stage. We first acted together in Bedroom Farce in October 1987 and I was completely fascinated by how she approached her part and how it fitted into the production. I loved her. She was talented, graceful, and we’d get into bed together on stage and pretend to sleep. I think I saw her for the last time in late 1992, maybe 1993, at the South London Theatre just before I came to the States. In googling around, I was devastated to learn she’d died on 21 February this year. I am heartbroken.

Playing: Shameless by Groove Armada, with Bryan Ferry. Ever since I first heard this track, the Bryan Ferry lyrics and vocals just grabbed me. “And the way we were / Fatefully entwined / In a shameless world”.

EOW-Scam phone call

julian m bucknall — Mon, 19 Aug 2024 23:15:00 GMT

On Friday, I got a sudden unexpected phone call.

“Hi this is <name> from Colorado Springs Utilities. Are you the owner?”

I immediately thought this was about the replacement sod their contractor had installed on our front lawn a couple of weeks ago, where the other contractors had had to dig up in order to put in the new neighborhood fiber optic cable for faster internet. It had been trashy looking for some four months already, and I was glad to see the new sod being installed.

“Yes”, I said.

“Your payment for your electricity bill is overdue and your electricity will be cut off in 30 minutes unless you pay immediately."

OK, big alarm bells. For a kick-off, CSU also charges for water and gas, not just electricity. There’s no way I could not just pay my “electricity bill”. Besides which, I pay our utilities bill at the beginning of the month along with a couple of other bills. OK, yes, I could have forgotten, after all Friday was the 16th of the month.

Nevertheless, this just had all the vibes of a scam call. If I didn’t pay right now I’d have no electricity. I couldn’t even imagine CSU blackmailing users like that.

“Let me log in to the site to check. I might have inadvertently forgotten, but I can pay there immediately.”

The caller then started into a spiel about they’d have to send out a technician to reconnect the electricity if I didn’t pay up, but I just put the phone down, logged into the CSU site where it said I’d paid my bill on at 6th. They must have been desperate because they phoned back, to no avail.

“I’ve paid, bye.”

I also phoned up CSU directly and warned them about the scam call and provided them with the caller number: (719) 716-2885.

Continuing the scam theme, onto emails. Perhaps once a week I’ll get an email to one of my personal accounts that starts off with:

Julian, We are excited to inform you that Julian M Bucknall has been awarded a business credit facility of $328,400. This offer comes as a result of the outstanding financial performance of your company, evidenced by a 10-point increase in your commercial credit rating.

Yeah, right. “Julian M Bucknall” is a well-known commercial company with a great credit rating.

Playing: Sadeness (part 1) by Enigma. I just love the classical choir in the background and the medieval feel to it.

EOW-Mortgage refinance

julian m bucknall — Tue, 13 Aug 2024 21:45:00 GMT

A couple of months ago, I decided that we had to do some work on the house, and also to sort out a couple of loans I had. Easiest way would have been an equity loan for sure, but our lender isn’t doing those at the moment. So next easiest was a mortgage refinance, and I took advantage of the opportunity to also reduce our mortgage period. All fine and dandy, it took a little while, sure, but eventually it was all closed and we moved on.

Except…

I started getting these weird letters/postcards:

You have recently closed on this mortgage with [bank name]. We need you to please call us about an important matter regarding this loan. This is time sensitive so please call us at [phone number] as soon as possible.

No company name, nor any hint as to what the heck this “important matter” is. Got two of those as postcards with the same text just about, but with different phone numbers.

FINAL NOTICE. Julian, We have been trying to reach you regarding a matter of importance as it relates to your mortgage. Please call [phone number].

Got three of those as envelopes where you have to fold/tear strips off the sides and bottom. Different phones numbers again, and no clue as to this “matter of importance”.

I’m guessing that it’s about insuring the mortgage in some way, but to be honest, these mails just make it sound like a complete and utter scam. All are now shredded.

Playing: Mr Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra. The reason for this one is a complete hoot. Last weekend my wife ran the Georgetown to Idaho Springs half marathon. As is usual for this, I drop her off at the start line in Georgetown and then I drive down to Idaho Springs and park the car, have a cup of coffee at The Frothy Cup, and then meet her at the finish line.

Mr Blue Sky!

Where I’d parked the car you could see a sign on I-70 for the turn off for for Mount Blue Sky (the new name for Mount Evans since September 2023), as — wait for it — “Mt Blue Sky”. And me? All I could read was “Mr Blue Sky” and so I was humming it the entire time…

EOW-Job Offer!

julian m bucknall — Tue, 06 Aug 2024 21:30:00 GMT

Imagine my surprise when I got this email late last week. It starts off with:

My name is Akash and I'm a recruiter at Axelon Services, our records show that you are a professional with experience in Assembler III. I have an opening for a contract position with one of our clients in Colorado Springs, CO that may be a fit for you.

Wowza! Experience with an assembler? It’s been years since I even wrote any code in assembly language, I’d even say a good couple of decades. In fact it was when everything was being written for 32-bit and I needed to write some Delphi functions in assembly language that needed the extra speed. Coding for 64-bit? I’d be a bit lost. Mind you, ditto for 32-bit these days! Thinking about it, it’s been a long while since I put anything referring to “Assembly language” in my résumé. I wonder how old their “records” are.

It continues:

Job description:
Assembler III
Colorado Springs, CO
6 Months
Pay rate: $20/hr.
2nd Shift 2:00 pm to 10:30 pm if overtime is required, end time would be 12:30 am.

A somewhat cheap pay I must say, and coding afternoons and evenings? Bleugh. And then…

Will be using standard size forklifts, no experience needed
Perform repetitive mechanical assembly involving sensitive or precise dexterous movements to maintain pace and quality of assembly work.

Ah ha! It’s not programming, it’s assembling stuff in a physical sense. Stuff that will need use of a forklift, no less!

I think I’ll pass.

Playing: Yello – Oh Yeah. A fun song from nearly 40 years ago, one that was featured in the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.