pumpkinstrokemarrow

After a while the battery fell out. Then the key board fell out. A thin floppy thing, rather like a large version of what you get in a mobile phone. What a surprise! Revealing no less than two small fans. But I still could not prise the two halves of the body of the thing apart. Found a few more screws to remove and still no joy. Eventually had to force things a bit, with the result that reassembly would probably have been difficult. Separated the screen from the computer. Snipped a few wires in the process. Eventually dug down to the disc unit which said that it was made by Hitachi. At least it was not Samsung, said to make the insides of all kinds of things these days.

Being properly security conscious, decided that I needed to finish the disc off, but the screws were too small for my jewellers kit. Maybe the disc chamber was a sealed unit. Warranty invalidated if you tamper with. Resorted to smashing the thing - about the size and shape of a 20 pack of Players - with a ball pein hammer. Interestingly, the disc itself, maybe two inches in diameter, shattered into very small slivers. Rather in the way of a car windscreen and rather different from the way in which a regular CD shatters.

Dumped all the bits and pieces in a stout plastic bag. Wondered about what identification I should take to the waste transfer station. First thought was to take my wrinkly - a form of photo pass issued by Epsom & Ewell Council - so that I could have an argument with the chap manning the control point about whether this constituted proof of residence in the borough. Last time I tried this, I failed. Second thought was to take along a recent utility bill, as asked.

Scored a tweet along the way when, for the third time in my life, I saw a kingfisher flying down the brook running down the side of Longmead Road. A flash of intense blue which could not possibly be anything else. As it happens the first time in my life I saw one was more or less at the same spot, maybe a couple of years ago.

Trudged passed the caravan café at the corner of Blenheim Road where several dustcart crews were taking their mid morning break. Sociological factlet: despite it being rather warm, the crews preferred to sit in the cabs of their carts while taking their breaks, rather than interacting with the other crews. As far as I could see they were not smoking - which would, of course, have been illegal but which was still odd as I would have thought there was a strong correlation between being a dustcart engineer and being a smoker.

Entered the waste transfer station to find that the control point was not manned so I could get inside without having to present my utility bill. The two containers which appeared to be for monitors and such like were firmly shut, so the wreckage of the Viao found rest amongst an assortment of vacuum cleaners, toasters and printers.

Back past the butcher in Manor Green Road where I had a sudden desire for grilled pork belly with tomato sauce for lunch - having had a rather inferior version of same during a second visit to L'Ulivo's the previous day (see 8th December). This turned out very well. Tomato sauce made by frying some chopped garlic in butter. Then adding two finely chopped medium sized onions. Cooked them until soft. Add two finely sliced celery stalk and one chopped orange pepper. Cook for a bit. Chop tomatoes of various varieties and sizes. Add to the mixture and simmer for 45 minutes. Very good with grilled pork, mashed potato and crinkly cabbage.

And then, just before I started on this, amused to find that Amazon France have a zone called 'Bébés et Puériculture'. I shall have to find out what the corresponding section of our Amazon is called. Not as good, I don't suppose.