Back in the Smoke

Well, I'm back at The Athenaeum Club to find out that the only computer in the place that will speak to teh intarweb is Furtle's Mac which I am currently using. My desk top cannot find an IP address and when I plug my laptop into the router, it tells me that there is no DNS server, which is patent balls since the Mac has found it. Though it will obligingly let me use MSN Messenger, which my PC won't.

I have absolutely no idea what is wrong; the router seems to be working - viz this post, but the Microsquash aspects of our shared technology seem to have given up. I do know that I powered down and unplugged my PC when I went away and that evening Furtle was having connectivity problems that mysteriously sorted themselves out the following day at about 8.30 in the morning. She turned my PC on in my absence whilst checking the connection, but didn't look at it again when hers started working, not unnaturally. The upshot is that until I can fathom what has happened, we are a one computer house (although when she gets back, I might fire up Furtle's Mac notebook just to confirm that it is a microsquash software problem, which I am guessing (hoping) might be at Plus.Net's end. In the meantime, I haven't a clue what to try.

If any of you IT gurus out there have any ideas, I'd be happy to listen.

Anyway, the weekend.

Shropshire was meltingly hot (for an Englishman at any rate). I went out to the pub on Friday evening with my niece, Hayley and my nephew, Tom, to celebrate the latter's 18th birthday. That went well enough, though we were bothered slightly by some drunken and over friendly Scousers, but they wobbled off eventually, so no harm done.

Traipsing around Shrewsbury on Saturday was draining, but I managed to get Mum some stuff for her birthday and pick up new trousers for me at the same time. Sunday was given over to watching footie on the telly, what with it being the last day of the Premiership season and the title and relegation places had yet to be sorted out. In the end, of course, it all ended up pretty much as expected, but there were nerves along the way.

Yesterday evening I took Tom to see Iron Man, he not having seen it and me thinking it worth a second viewing. Slight problems though at the movie's end at 10.30. It seems that the last train back to Wem was at 10.50, though I think it might have been earlier. Despite the pair of us tanking it up to the station in record time we arrived to find only one train scheduled and that not going anywhere near Wem. So an 18 quid taxi fare home made it a rather more expensive evening than envisaged.

In additional news, my nose seems to have either regressed thirty-five years, or the heat has had an unforeseen effect, or maybe I have eaten too many lard sarnies, or a combination of all three. Whatever the cause, it is breaking out in annoyingly painful zits, which combine well with hayfever to make life more miserable than it ought to be.

Happy days.

Back in the Smoke

Well, I'm back at The Athenaeum Club to find out that the only computer in the place that will speak to teh intarweb is Furtle's Mac which I am currently using. My desk top cannot find an IP address and when I plug my laptop into the router, it tells me that there is no DNS server, which is patent balls since the Mac has found it. Though it will obligingly let me use MSN Messenger, which my PC won't.

I have absolutely no idea what is wrong; the router seems to be working - viz this post, but the Microsquash aspects of our shared technology seem to have given up. I do know that I powered down and unplugged my PC when I went away and that evening Furtle was having connectivity problems that mysteriously sorted themselves out the following day at about 8.30 in the morning. She turned my PC on in my absence whilst checking the connection, but didn't look at it again when hers started working, not unnaturally. The upshot is that until I can fathom what has happened, we are a one computer house (although when she gets back, I might fire up Furtle's Mac notebook just to confirm that it is a microsquash software problem, which I am guessing (hoping) might be at Plus.Net's end. In the meantime, I haven't a clue what to try.

If any of you IT gurus out there have any ideas, I'd be happy to listen.

Anyway, the weekend.

Shropshire was meltingly hot (for an Englishman at any rate). I went out to the pub on Friday evening with my niece, Hayley and my nephew, Tom, to celebrate the latter's 18th birthday. That went well enough, though we were bothered slightly by some drunken and over friendly Scousers, but they wobbled off eventually, so no harm done.

Traipsing around Shrewsbury on Saturday was draining, but I managed to get Mum some stuff for her birthday and pick up new trousers for me at the same time. Sunday was given over to watching footie on the telly, what with it being the last day of the Premiership season and the title and relegation places had yet to be sorted out. In the end, of course, it all ended up pretty much as expected, but there were nerves along the way.

Yesterday evening I took Tom to see Iron Man, he not having seen it and me thinking it worth a second viewing. Slight problems though at the movie's end at 10.30. It seems that the last train back to Wem was at 10.50, though I think it might have been earlier. Despite the pair of us tanking it up to the station in record time we arrived to find only one train scheduled and that not going anywhere near Wem. So an 18 quid taxi fare home made it a rather more expensive evening than envisaged.

In additional news, my nose seems to have either regressed thirty-five years, or the heat has had an unforeseen effect, or maybe I have eaten too many lard sarnies, or a combination of all three. Whatever the cause, it is breaking out in annoyingly painful zits, which combine well with hayfever to make life more miserable than it ought to be.

Happy days.