A couple of weeks ago I took my watch to the jeweller to have its grommets replaced. Although it's supposedly waterproof, when I sweat profusely its dial becomes cloudy. Having the grommet at the back of case replaced cured the problem for a while, but when it reoccured the jeweller advised me to have the one behind the winder replaced as well.
In the watch's absence I've been keeping track of time with an iPhone app called Westminster Chimes which strikes the quarters as well as the hours. It may drive Pat mad, but today it was a life-saver.
This morning I'd gone to Comunanza to pick up my Italian driving licence and to have the car cleaned. Shortly after moving here I had my licence officially recognised by the Italian equivalent of DVLA. It was cheaper than exchanging it for an Italian licence. Every few years I'd go for an eye-test and the licence would be updated by means of a sticker on its back. The most recent update lasts until 2014. Now while that's fine for driving in Italy, as the English licence expires when I'm seventy this June, I envisaged enormous problems if I needed to hire a car in the UK thereafter. Would your average Hertz employee - at Stansted many of them are Eastern Europeans - realise that despite the licence itself saying it had expired, the bit of paper stuck on the back made it ok? Somehow I doubt it. And if at some future date we had the misfortune to move back to the UK would Swansea happily renew a licence which had expired some years previously. I did put the question to them several months ago by email. I'm still awaiting a reply, but I guess the answer would be no. So, I've coughed up €80 and am now the proud possessor of a kosher Eyetie licence.
Having collected the licence I went for a coffee until it was time to pick up the car from the car-wash. That done, I drove home.
Mid-afternoon I thought I'd check the state of my iPhone's battery; went to pull it out of my pocket - and found it wasn't there. Searching the house failed to find it, as did ringing it from the landline. The obvious answer was that I'd left it in the car. Unfortunately, searching the car proved to be equally unproductive. I then began to panic: had I left it in the bar? The Find My Phone app failed to locate it. Applying electrodes to my one remaining brain cell produced a result: I remembered that I had the phone when I arrived at the garage to pick up the car, ergo despite my failing to find it it must be in the vehicle. So I went back to the car. As I opened the door I heard a blessed sound: my phone striking half-past. A prolonged search eventually discovered it hiding beneath the front passenger seat.
Although I was quite cross with its naughty behaviour - don't be fooled, these inanimate objects have minds of their own - like any loving parent I soon forgave it in my delight that it was safely home once more. And all thanks to Westminster Chimes.
In the watch's absence I've been keeping track of time with an iPhone app called Westminster Chimes which strikes the quarters as well as the hours. It may drive Pat mad, but today it was a life-saver.
This morning I'd gone to Comunanza to pick up my Italian driving licence and to have the car cleaned. Shortly after moving here I had my licence officially recognised by the Italian equivalent of DVLA. It was cheaper than exchanging it for an Italian licence. Every few years I'd go for an eye-test and the licence would be updated by means of a sticker on its back. The most recent update lasts until 2014. Now while that's fine for driving in Italy, as the English licence expires when I'm seventy this June, I envisaged enormous problems if I needed to hire a car in the UK thereafter. Would your average Hertz employee - at Stansted many of them are Eastern Europeans - realise that despite the licence itself saying it had expired, the bit of paper stuck on the back made it ok? Somehow I doubt it. And if at some future date we had the misfortune to move back to the UK would Swansea happily renew a licence which had expired some years previously. I did put the question to them several months ago by email. I'm still awaiting a reply, but I guess the answer would be no. So, I've coughed up €80 and am now the proud possessor of a kosher Eyetie licence.
Having collected the licence I went for a coffee until it was time to pick up the car from the car-wash. That done, I drove home.
Mid-afternoon I thought I'd check the state of my iPhone's battery; went to pull it out of my pocket - and found it wasn't there. Searching the house failed to find it, as did ringing it from the landline. The obvious answer was that I'd left it in the car. Unfortunately, searching the car proved to be equally unproductive. I then began to panic: had I left it in the bar? The Find My Phone app failed to locate it. Applying electrodes to my one remaining brain cell produced a result: I remembered that I had the phone when I arrived at the garage to pick up the car, ergo despite my failing to find it it must be in the vehicle. So I went back to the car. As I opened the door I heard a blessed sound: my phone striking half-past. A prolonged search eventually discovered it hiding beneath the front passenger seat.
Although I was quite cross with its naughty behaviour - don't be fooled, these inanimate objects have minds of their own - like any loving parent I soon forgave it in my delight that it was safely home once more. And all thanks to Westminster Chimes.
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