Raised voices

One thing that should be remembered at all times is that my father is always right. Even when, as far as every scrap of empirical evidence is concerned, he is wrong.

I refer, specifically, to the night vision CCTV camera my mother recently purchased via eBay. Forget, for a moment, that she started out convinced that she'd been sent the wrong thing because the 'wireless' CCTV camera came with cable attachments (in case, y'know, you don't want to run it wireless) and a power supply rather than a battery compartment (how long would batteries last running the camera, the light sensor and the large bank of IR LEDs? And how hefty a battery, or how many would be needed to power it - for the sake of argument - overnight?)

She bought the camera, ostensibly, to watch our garden wildlife during the wee hours. I don't think it will be long before she's using it to spy on our rowdy neighbours and their street parties. But that's just me.

At some point, my father decided to investigate these wonderous bits of electronic trickery, as is his wont. He decided, based on a small piece of paper referring to a 12v power supply and an 8v power supply, that we'd been sent the wrong power supply for the camera. What it actually says is "If you have a camera with one of these model numbers, you should have an 8v power supply, while cameras with either of these model numbers require a 12v power supply".

Guess who hadn't bothered to check the model number of the camera, and so assumed that one set of model numbers was the camera, while the other set was the receiver.

Even after I explained the true meaning of the instructions, he still couldn't see why there wasn't an 8v power supply in the package.

For a smart guy, he has huge problems with logical progression.

I've been repainting Movie Megatron some more... and finding that the more I paint, the more I see that "could use a lick of paint to make it stand out a bit more". At this rate, I'll end up painting the whole bloody thing.

On another note, earlier today I had to smile when I heard the screams of many little girls from the school down the road (my old school, as it happens... all those many years ago). From the volume of the screams, and the overall sound of them, one could be forgiven for thinking some terrible nightmarish monster had sprung from the ground and started eating them... But, no. The reason for their screams was far more mundane.

It was raining.