Cleethorpes

I’m in Cleethorpes. Or rather, I’m in an hotel in a village just outside Cleethorpes, in a place that’s probably more correctly Grimsby. Since my last post, I’ve:

  • Struggled to get my brain working again, and into a new project.
  • Entertained Flossie in Glasgow, briefly.
  • Taken her (back) to Leeds, to meet my parents (again). She’d previously taken my mother to Gilgamesh at the Playhouse, which as ways of introducing oneself counts as plain weird. But hey, it worked.
  • Accompanied her back down to Cardiff, where a week’s holiday was somewhat interrupted by Other Stuff, as follows:
  • Participated in Demostorm, a slightly muted but nevertheless hugely fun flurry of science demo-based activity. There’ll be videos and things, honest.
  • Panicked about SciCast, which kicks off in earnest tomorrow, with a formal launch event on Friday. Eek!
  • Cooked some extremely good food. If Wendy or Dan are reading this, I’m actually talking about the bangers and mash the night before, sorry.
  • Arranged for my car to be collected next week.
  • Been included in some group emails with senior bits of the US Marine Corps, and co-opted onto a Task Force. True story.

SciCast is proving tricky to sort – we originally had a plan for a part-time admin assistant, and we were right about that. But the real pain is having to get everything sorted by the launch day on Friday, when we have a few press trogging into a school near Rotherham to watch an MP being made to look mildly silly by 14 year-olds.

You’ll notice I’m not linking to a website. That’s because… er… it’s not done yet. Yes, this is a matter of [cough] some concern.

But meanwhile… well, Flossie’s fab.

[Comments are still hosed, by the way.]

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