Out of Kilter

It started with Easter Day ... only it didn't; it was actually still mid-evening on Saturday when the first Easter celebration hit my diary.  The church where we ring bells had decided to have what was described to the ringers as 'a short service at seven, and we have been asked to ring the bells afterwards.'  When I turned up expecting to ring at about 7.30, as requested, I found that we were all joining in from the balcony with a full Easter Eve liturgy.  The last time I took part in this service must have been about 40 years ago!

We then lost an hour's sleep as British Summer Time kicked in ... and I don't remember anyone celebrating that this is the centenary of its introduction!  All too soon, it seemed, we were back at the ropes as we rang for the usual early morning service; the normal Sunday sequence had begun.

As has become my custom recently, I departed on Monday for my cousin's home, where I enjoyed a relaxing time with the family.  I use that phrase deliberately for, although her family wasn't there, just her and her husband, I took time out on Tuesday to drive over to Matlock to call at the Derbyshire Record Office to research the family of my eldest uncle, who lived in the south of the county for much of his adult life.

All too soon it was time to drive home again, and now, without a work pattern to guide me, I'm all confused.  Did I have a bank holiday?  Is this now Thursday, Friday or Saturday?  There are times when I'm very glad of modern technology and the fact that my computer screen has a little date-and-time icon in the corner.  I then match the first part of the date with the calendar that hangs on the wall in front of my desk to see what day of the week it is.  In Meerkat-speak, 'Simples!' ... or it would be if I'd remembered to turn over the calendar to the new month!

It's all getting too much for me, with the clocks changing, Easter and the month-end coming so close together.  Someone told me last week that it will be another 141 years before the Feast of the Annunciation falls on Good Friday; I think I'm content for that one to fall off the edge of my radar.

Talking of radar, screens, and the like ... it's been a very trying time in that direction too.  As I told my singing colleague on Sunday, my family history database seems to have caught a cold.  In the last couple of weeks, it has crashed twice.  The first time I restored what I thought to be a safe back-up a few days old, but the second time, to be sure - as I thought - that I'd got around the problem, I wiped out the program, re-installed it and brought back an older set of data from the beginning of the month.

As I cautiously re-re-input data that is now so familiar I almost feel I'm shaking hands with these cousins who are a century old and more, I began to feel a new sense of confidence. All was going well ... until this morning. The error messages came back again as I ran the back-up on closing down for lunch.  I opened the program again, ran a quality check, and closed it, taking another back-up.  No error messages!  Fed up with playing ducks and drakes with it, I resorted to professional help ... I e-mailed my son.  His advice made perfect sense; the upgrade to the newest version of the software is now on its way.  As well as offering me a whole new range of bells and whistles, it is allegedly impervious to the devious ways of Windows 10.

Meanwhile, the sunshine has returned, so I can go out for pleasant afternoon walks again.  What was that about rain being forecast for next week?