Hymermut wrote:
> IS YE SHEDD DEAD?
>
> It’s so quiet in here
> Spooky is the word
> Although I have no fear
> That would be absurd
> Empty is ye shedd?
> No human habitation?
> Maybe we’re all dead?
> Extreme annihilation?
> The nail has snagged no jersey
> There’s cobwebs on Franks glarses
> Was that a cry of mercy
> Or just a crow that passes?
> The kettle is a simmering
> The tea is gently stewing
> I’m sure we’re all just slumbering
> And posts I’ll soon be viewing
>
> Wake up ye members of ye shedd!
> Inspection time! Stand by your bed!
>
> Tone March 2004
```
You did it again Tone, made ye shedd proud.
2004 tickles me.
v - from over there in the caff
--
https://www.thefarside.com/

snipeco.2@gmail.com (Sn!pe) wrote in
news:1qqzeiw.1rpej9yjzwqroN%snipeco.2@gmail.com:

> Peter <myshed@prune.org.uk> wrote:
>
>>
>> SWMBO takes a simmlar view. She has a perflecty good ferm, very up to
>> date and modern, with all sorts of appy things on it which she would
>> find useful (like bus and train timeables) but she refuses to use it
>> for anything but talking to someone at a distance.
>>
>
> Wot, find and yrnea gb hfr a napp? Wossat then?
Ferzackerly

--
Peter
-----

In article <1012695526.733131081.407427.timdownieuk-yahoo.co.youkay@news
..individual.net>, Tim+ <timdownieuk@yahoo.co.youkay> on Tue, 26 Mar
2024 at 07:32:54 awoke Nicholas from his slumbers and wrote
>Nicholas D. Richards <nicholas@salmiron.com> wrote:
>> In article <XnsB1409B400CA16Factura3476@135.181.20.170>, Peter
>> <myshed@prune.org.uk> on Mon, 25 Mar 2024 at 15:15:41 awoke Nicholas
>> from his slumbers and wrote
>>> "Nicholas D. Richards" <nicholas@salmiron.com> wrote in
>>> news:WwYKEKAGRYAmFAzi@salmiron.com:
>>>
>>>> In article <20240325131932.13c3d77c5ecd58e784fc5ec8@eircom.net>, Ahem
>>>> A Rivet's Shot <steveo@eircom.net> on Mon, 25 Mar 2024 at 13:19:32
>>>> awoke Nicholas from his slumbers and wrote
>>>>> On Mon, 25 Mar 2024 11:07:31 +0000
>>>>> Hymermut <tone@email.com> wrote:
>>>>>
>>>>>> Wake up ye members of ye shedd!
>>>>>
>>>>> <yawns loudly>whassat ?
>>>>>
>>>>>> Inspection time! Stand by your bed!
>>>>>
>>>>> Bed ? what bed - mind you this bloo circle is comfy.
>>>>>
>>>>> Ah well howsabout an ickle rant.
>>>>>
>>>>> So my fern is a five year old who-are-we P20 which the
>>>>> manufacturer
>>>>> has stopped supporting a couple of years back and now my bank are
>>>>> saying that their app will no longer be supported on such antique
>>>>> versions of android as of next week. So this means that I shall have
>>>>> to ohl an arg fern to replace the perfectly good one whose only fault
>>>>> is that it's not getting software updates.
>>>>>
>>>> I refuse to use apps, they are an excuse for every nefarious ferm (not
>>>> fern) to collect information about us and our activities.
>>>>
>>>> When I need to contact my 2 banks I either use the oldfashioned land-
>>>> line or get on my trolley and go down to the branch (long may it stay
>>>> open) or use the land-line fern.
>>>>
>>>> Long live the cheque (check to leftpondians)!
>>>
>>> SWMBO takes a simmlar view. She has a perflecty good ferm, very up to date
>>> and modern, with all sorts of appy things on it which she would find useful
>>> (like bus and train timeables) but she refuses to use it for anything but
>>> talking to someone at a distance.
>>>
>> I have never understood why anyone would use an app for bus and train
>> arrivals/timetables. You just need an old fashioned browser.
>
>Convenience? Display optimised for phone screen? Shortcuts to useful map
>overlays showing live positions of buses?
>
>Tim
>

As an example try:

https://tfl.gov.uk/bus/uk/490010731S/

I navigated from:

https://tfl.gov.uk/

try also, for location of buses:

https://traintimes.org.uk/map/london-buses/?#P13

traintimes.org.uk gives access to train times.

Also:

https://www.nationalrail.co.uk
--
0sterc@tcher -

"Où sont les neiges d'antan?"

Sam Plusnet wrote:

> That urinated me off about Android phones.
> For entirely different reasons I shifted over to an iPhone a few years
> back, and they _do_ keep on pushing out updates for earlier models.
> Grudgingly, I have to say that Apple dun good.

green robots now does gooder than iThings (7 years of updates for recent
phones)

On Tue, 26 Mar 2024 14:53:18 +0000
Tease'n'Seize <tease-and-seize@invalid> wrote:

> green robots now does gooder than iThings (7 years of updates for recent

Deep ends on the maker innit, only got three years on my who-are-we.

--
Steve O'Hara-Smith
Odds and Ends at http://www.sohara.org/
For forms of government let fools contest
Whate're is best administered is best - Alexander Pope

In article <slrnv0538m.8sl.maus@d1.org>, greymaus <maus@d1.org> on Tue,
26 Mar 2024 at 08:53:42 awoke Nicholas from his slumbers and wrote
>On 2024-03-25, Hymermut <tone@email.com> wrote:
>> IS YE SHEDD DEAD?
>>
>> It’s so quiet in here
>> Spooky is the word
>> Although I have no fear
>> That would be absurd
>> Empty is ye shedd?
>> No human habitation?
>> Maybe we’re all dead?
>> Extreme annihilation?
>> The nail has snagged no jersey
>> There’s cobwebs on Franks glarses
>> Was that a cry of mercy
>> Or just a crow that passes?
>> The kettle is a simmering
>> The tea is gently stewing
>> I’m sure we’re all just slumbering
>> And posts I’ll soon be viewing
>>
>> Wake up ye members of ye shedd!
>> Inspection time! Stand by your bed!
>>
>> Tone March 2004
>
>A cellar door opens, and a weak light is switched on, then a voice calls
>down.
>
>"Is there anyone there?''
>
>Yog Soggoth raises his eye stalks above the water of the cellar that he
>has found had a sea entrance, and where soft, squitchy things enter now
>and again. The steps of the victim come down the stairs, and then reach
>the level of the water. From the sound, it would seem that it would be
>big enough to feed a Saggoth for weeks, while the Saggoth allows the
>body to be softened by its dissolving saliva.
>
>"Arrggghhh"
>
>After that, no sound comes from the cellar.
>
Made me go back and read, rather than half remembered, Walter de la
Mare's 'The Listeners'.

‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

It is a subject of some of my Night Mares
--
0sterc@tcher -

"Où sont les neiges d'antan?"

On 25/03/2024 19:24, Sam Plusnet wrote:
> I have to say it Tone, you seem to have aged a lot in the last few hours.
>
> --
> Sam Plusnet

I woz thinking the same thing....

Tone

On 2024-03-26, Nicholas D. Richards <nicholas@salmiron.com> wrote:
> In article <slrnv0538m.8sl.maus@d1.org>, greymaus <maus@d1.org> on Tue,
> 26 Mar 2024 at 08:53:42 awoke Nicholas from his slumbers and wrote
>>On 2024-03-25, Hymermut <tone@email.com> wrote:
>>> IS YE SHEDD DEAD?
>>>
>>> It’s so quiet in here
>>> Spooky is the word
>>> Although I have no fear
>>> That would be absurd
>>> Empty is ye shedd?
>>> No human habitation?
>>> Maybe we’re all dead?
>>> Extreme annihilation?
>>> The nail has snagged no jersey
>>> There’s cobwebs on Franks glarses
>>> Was that a cry of mercy
>>> Or just a crow that passes?
>>> The kettle is a simmering
>>> The tea is gently stewing
>>> I’m sure we’re all just slumbering
>>> And posts I’ll soon be viewing
>>>
>>> Wake up ye members of ye shedd!
>>> Inspection time! Stand by your bed!
>>>
>>> Tone March 2004
>>
>>A cellar door opens, and a weak light is switched on, then a voice calls
>>down.
>>
>>"Is there anyone there?''
>>
>>Yog Soggoth raises his eye stalks above the water of the cellar that he
>>has found had a sea entrance, and where soft, squitchy things enter now
>>and again. The steps of the victim come down the stairs, and then reach
>>the level of the water. From the sound, it would seem that it would be
>>big enough to feed a Saggoth for weeks, while the Saggoth allows the
>>body to be softened by its dissolving saliva.
>>
>>"Arrggghhh"
>>
>>After that, no sound comes from the cellar.
>>
> Made me go back and read, rather than half remembered, Walter de la
> Mare's 'The Listeners'.
>
> ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
> Knocking on the moonlit door;
> And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
> Of the forest’s ferny floor:
> And a bird flew up out of the turret,
> Above the Traveller’s head:
> And he smote upon the door again a second time;
> ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
> But no one descended to the Traveller;
> No head from the leaf-fringed sill
> Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
> Where he stood perplexed and still.
> But only a host of phantom listeners
> That dwelt in the lone house then
> Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
> To that voice from the world of men:
> Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
> That goes down to the empty hall,
> Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
> By the lonely Traveller’s call.
> And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
> Their stillness answering his cry,
> While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
> ’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
> For he suddenly smote on the door, even
> Louder, and lifted his head:—
> ‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
> That I kept my word,’ he said.
> Never the least stir made the listeners,
> Though every word he spake
> Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
> From the one man left awake:
> Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
> And the sound of iron on stone,
> And how the silence surged softly backward,
> When the plunging hoofs were gone.
>
> It is a subject of some of my Night Mares

Thanks.

I was rethinking Lovecraft
--
greymausg@mail.com
Come Back Boris, all is forgiven,
Oh, drat, he has.

On 25/03/2024 14:42, Ahem A Rivet's Shot wrote:
> On Mon, 25 Mar 2024 14:03:50 +0000
> "Nicholas D. Richards" <nicholas@salmiron.com> wrote:
>
>> I refuse to use apps, they are an excuse for every nefarious ferm (not
>> fern) to collect information about us and our activities.
>
> I don't use anti-social media for that reason but ...
>
>> When I need to contact my 2 banks I either use the oldfashioned land-
>> line or get on my trolley and go down to the branch (long may it stay
>> open) or use the land-line fern.
>
> My bank winds up knowing just as much about my activities no matter
> what means I use to communicate with them or make payments - app, phone,
> walk in, card, cheque it's all the same, they get all the details of every
> non-cash transaction and they get to know how much cash I withdraw and
> when. I don't goove they can get anything extra out of the app apart from
> more opportunities to try and offer me loans that I don't want - these I can
> ignore.

Or they can access your fern book and call log and send everyone you
know SMS spams saying you have recommended them (the bank etc) to them
(your friends etc).

I've just had arj NHS hearing aids (WHAT? NEW HEARING AIDS!) and to turn
the volume up/down I need an app. I have to run it on SWMBO's fern as
mine is too old. It demands access to the fern book and call history and
photos (really!) to install. Well ha ha to them it's not "my" fern.

--
Nev
It causes me a great deal of regret and remorse
that so many people are unable to understand what I write.

greymaus wrote:

> I was rethinking Lovecraft

Wipe the slime off the bags of Blue Circle, would you?

On Wed, 27 Mar 2024 11:09:22 +0000
nev young <newsforpasiphae1953@yahoo.co.uk> wrote:

> Or they can access your fern book and call log and send everyone you
> know SMS spams saying you have recommended them (the bank etc) to them
> (your friends etc).

It can't, it's not one of the very few apps with access to my
contacts let alone the even shorter list with access to my call log.

--
Steve O'Hara-Smith
Odds and Ends at http://www.sohara.org/
For forms of government let fools contest
Whate're is best administered is best - Alexander Pope

On 26/03/2024 18:14, Nicholas D. Richards wrote:

> Made me go back and read, rather than half remembered, Walter de la
> Mare's 'The Listeners'.
>
> ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
> Knocking on the moonlit door;
> And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
> Of the forest’s ferny floor:
> And a bird flew up out of the turret,
> Above the Traveller’s head:
> And he smote upon the door again a second time;
> ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
> But no one descended to the Traveller;
> No head from the leaf-fringed sill
> Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
> Where he stood perplexed and still.
> But only a host of phantom listeners
> That dwelt in the lone house then
> Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
> To that voice from the world of men:
> Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
> That goes down to the empty hall,
> Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
> By the lonely Traveller’s call.
> And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
> Their stillness answering his cry,
> While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
> ’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
> For he suddenly smote on the door, even
> Louder, and lifted his head:—
> ‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
> That I kept my word,’ he said.
> Never the least stir made the listeners,
> Though every word he spake
> Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
> From the one man left awake:
> Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
> And the sound of iron on stone,
> And how the silence surged softly backward,
> When the plunging hoofs were gone.
>
> It is a subject of some of my Night Mares

Much more highbrow than Walter de la Mare.

Somewhere in the dark and nasty regions,
where nobody goes, stands an ancient castle.
Deep within this dank and uninviting place,
lives Berk ("Allo!"), overworked servant of
"the thing upstairs" ('Berk! Feed Me!')
But that's nothing compared to the horrors
that lurk beneath THE TRAP DOOR
for there is always something down there,
in the dark, waiting to come out....

Don't you open that trapdoor,
you're a fool if you dare!
Stay away from that trapdoor,
'cause there's something down there...

On 30/03/2024 18:37, Soup wrote:
> On 26/03/2024 18:14, Nicholas D. Richards wrote:
>
>> Made me go back and read, rather than half remembered, Walter de la
>> Mare's 'The Listeners'.
>>
>> ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
>>     Knocking on the moonlit door;
>> And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
>>     Of the forest’s ferny floor:
>> And a bird flew up out of the turret,
>>     Above the Traveller’s head:
>> And he smote upon the door again a second time;
>>     ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
>> But no one descended to the Traveller;
>>     No head from the leaf-fringed sill
>> Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
>>     Where he stood perplexed and still.
>> But only a host of phantom listeners
>>     That dwelt in the lone house then
>> Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
>>     To that voice from the world of men:
>> Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
>>     That goes down to the empty hall,
>> Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
>>     By the lonely Traveller’s call.
>> And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
>>     Their stillness answering his cry,
>> While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
>>     ’Neath the starred and leafy sky;
>> For he suddenly smote on the door, even
>>     Louder, and lifted his head:—
>> ‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
>>     That I kept my word,’ he said.
>> Never the least stir made the listeners,
>>     Though every word he spake
>> Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
>>     From the one man left awake:
>> Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
>>     And the sound of iron on stone,
>> And how the silence surged softly backward,
>>     When the plunging hoofs were gone.
>>
>> It is a subject of some of my Night Mares
>
> Much more highbrow than Walter de la Mare.
>
> Somewhere in the dark and nasty regions,
>  where nobody goes, stands an ancient castle.
>  Deep within this dank and uninviting place,
>  lives Berk ("Allo!"), overworked servant of
>  "the thing upstairs"  ('Berk! Feed Me!')
>  But that's nothing compared to the horrors
>  that lurk beneath THE TRAP DOOR
> for there is always something down there,
>  in the dark, waiting to come out....
>
> Don't you open that trapdoor,
>  you're a fool if you dare!
>  Stay away from that trapdoor,
>  'cause there's something down there...
>

<like>

Tone

On 25/03/2024 13:05, Sn!pe wrote:
>
> I blame Polly Ticks.

You've been doing that every day for the past three years. It's the
tedium that keeps me away.