By the time we woke up — or more accurately, got out of bed, it was late, real late, cos when we got out to town to eat, it was 2.20 and we had 10 mins to go until the afternoon tea special.
Then she went for a facial with her mentor while I had my hair cut. We’d arranged to meet 6pm at the crab shop. I finished at nearly 5 and originally just planned to hang out at HMV. But my neck was hurting so I did an hour at the massage place.
I got to the shop around 6.20 (SMS’ed to tell her my plans) and after a few phone calls, found out they were still on the other side of town. Sigh. Another hanging around waiting time, how are they part of my life.
Finally they arrived and we bought the crabs. The hairy crabs that are in season. Went to her brother’s place to steam them, we had 2 1/2 each. Very nice, but very high in cholesterol, so have to be careful. Had them with warmed wine, first time I tried, unusual but also real nice.
Just a bit of luxuriating.
Was discussing about info sharing with a colleague, the IT dept gave us a website of a project management software but when I looked at it, it was just glorified Outlook. Not what we wanted.
So what did I do? I paid $45 myself for another website, which my colleague named. So bullko.com was born.
What I had in mind was of course another weblog. But as others have demonstrated, weblog software are much much more than just blogs, they’re very valuable content management systems. And so they are.
With my newest obsession with wordpress, that’s how I built it in. I need to learn more about php but I managed the install fine, put in a few sample entries, went to Alex King’s to get a new style, tweaked the style and hey presto, a spanking new website.
The splash page image is from one of my Masai Mara pictures (one of the random dozen on invisiblecompany), filtered through a crayon filter in Photoshop. The quote I got from my Penguin quotations dictionary.
I still have to do the .htpasswrd file, and to figure out how to display post dated entries, but the skeleton is here.
Should I be proud? Should I?