Talking to monitors

It seemed to take a long time but finally I have a new monitor.   It was getting impossible to see round the interference from the old one and I gave up trying.  No matter.  The new one is big and shiny and was a splendid bargain (manager’s special offer in PC World – down from £135 to £99)  and it was quite a shock, seeing things all big and bright.  Dazzlingly bright even, and with alarmingly garish colours.  Maybe a little bit over the top?  So I’ve invested in a monitor calibration tool because either the photos looked right on the old monitor or on the new one but most definitely they aren’t the same.  I may have to do some dreadfully technical things when the gadget arrives though, unless it’s very clever and can talk to the monitor.  If not, I will have to talk to the monitor.  Um, well not like talking to flowers, you understand.  You don’t talk to flowers?  Well never mind, it’s all technical stuff about brightness and contrast and colour values that the monitor is using and you have to tell the gadget so it can – er – I’ve run out of jargon.  Calibrate?  Yes, I think that’s it.  I like a new learning experience.

We had a tremendously hectic bank holiday.  Some dear friends who have moved to Europe, came for lunch and then we went to the pub and sat in the garden.  The Middles came and Little Middle enchanted everyone as always and then they came back for dinner and to stay the night.  Two dinners in one day!  And enough boozing to last a week!  I’m just recovering – just as well too as I’m minding Little Middle today and you need to be well on the ball when she’s around*.

Well I got my calibrating gadget yesterday and I had a stab at telling it what it wanted to know about the monitor and I let it dangle on the screen till it had finished flashing and changing colours and probably now, what I see is roughly what I got when I took the photo.  It doesn’t take long for the brain to tell the eyes that things are just as normal does it?   Mine usually whinges a lot when I see the difference between tinted glasses and car windows and the naked view (the tinted windows make the open window bit look pink.  I really can’t stand that.)  but it’s different when there’s no change to compare.

So I’ve no idea what you’re seeing when you look at my photos.  It probably depends on your monitor!**

Meanwhile, I’ve noticed that not only are my typos getting wilder but I seem to be incorporating them into my handwriting as well.  Yesterday I wrote eblows instead of elbows and I couldn’t understand half of my shopping list last week – though that was partly due to my illegible handwriting – which is definitely getting worse.  And I’ve been losing surnames.  A friend turned up yesterday with a steam train magazine for Barney.  We don’t see them often but their son was one of my son’s best friends at school.  I remembered all the family’s names even the daughter, who I rarely met, and the dogs.  But their surname – Carr?  Carter?  Calder?  Calcott (Oh no, that’s a place).  Eventually I gave up and looked in my contacts.   Clarke.  Obviously!

Oh dear.

Once in a while I see something that’s just sensible.  I get emails from espares from time to time and for once, I looked at one, thinking, maybe I would like a wine bottle rack in the fridge.  Then I was distracted by the bit that said “Do you know how your fridge works Mrs Bardsley?” (No, not really) “watch this short video and find out.  You might pick up some tips on what to replace if it breaks down”.  Idly, I did and astonishingly it was  short and informative and Matt from espares wasn’t at all irritating and spoke intelligable English with no ridiculous verbal tics.  Fascinated by this unusual phenomenon, I went on to watch Helen explaining how to deal with smelly fridges and someone else showing you how to identify leaks and someone showing you how to replace a fridge seal.  Anyway, although a sudden fascination with advertising videos from a spare parts company may look like more of the sort of thing that you want to watch out for in the elderly, I’m including a link to it because I can’t remember when I last , if ever, saw advertising which was helpful, useful, inoffensive and assumed that you’d rather repair than replace your old fridge.

Now I’m going to fling a couple of photos in and go to bed.  I have an appointment with a small person tomorrow and she may not want me to sleep some more so I’d better do it now.

*As it turned out I didn’t need to be too alert as she was very keen to put me to sleep on the sofa with her cuddly blanket, variously, on and under my head or just wrapped around my feet.  

**But I checked and the poppies still look ridiculously red.