TV woes

This will be a stub - as Wikipedia calls its incomplete entries. It's well after 10. I have little to report anyway. 

The day was hijacked by a tech crisis: our five- or six-year-old TV receiver has given up the ghost - it won't output audio. I spent a lo-o-ong time with tech support, then a fruitless long-shot attempt to get it to work by using a different kind of cable.  All for naught. It has to be replaced, at a cost of $500!

I did get out for my walking exercise with Fred Douglass in the morning. It's the mid-1840s and he's spending a year in the British Isles on a speaking tour. His successes keep mounting, but his relationships to and within the American Anti-Slavery Society and its British allies are starting to fray. It sounds like he was not an easy man. But who could blame him?

Most of the post mid-day meal period was taken up with sourcing a cable that I thought might solve the TV receiver problem, and trying to install it. As I say, to no avail.

In the meantime, I've carried on in odd moments with my project of renovating photos from our 2016 winter away. These two were taken in a very European setting,  a park-like triangle of land hemmed by three huge apartment buildings. The local street artists had found a nice quiet place in which to practice their craft. Also, alas, the dog walkers who seemed to feel that picking up after their mutts was not required in this place.

The murals, completed in 2013, were still fairly fresh in 2016. When I went back in 2020, they were looking a little decrepit. The colours looked nothing like this. The long one is  a stitched-together panorama from two exposures.