Just a quick hello to break the week-long silence. I've been watching Wimbledon religiously for the last two weeks; recording the surprisingly good coverage from TNT while I'm at work, then zipping through it in the evenings, fast-forwarding to the good matches.

But it's making me feel rather old. I've been watching Wimbledon year-in, year-out since I was in high-school. Back then, we'd get our six-week Summer vacation, and, to the annoyance, I'm sure, of my Mom (who always seemed to want to vacuum the living-room carpet at match point), I'd spend a third of it cooped up watching the BBC's coverage. In fact, I still miss their most famous commentator, Dan Maskell, with his "Oh I SAY!" and "My word!".

But a particular reason that watching Wimbledon makes me remember my age is when they talk about the great stars of the past, like Bjorn Borg. I was watching a replay of Tim Henman's first set against Ivanisevic just now, and the commentator said that Henman was five years old the virst time he visited Wimbledon - to watch Borg play! I even remember the last time a Brit won at Wimbledon; 1977, the Queen's Silver Jubilee, when Virginia Wade won.

Henmania is gripping England right now. That's a term coined by the press to describe the hysteria generated each year when Tim Henman, England's last best hope to win Wimbledon, starts to win matches. England hasn't had a men's finalist at Wimbledon in something like 65 years, so if Henman gets through Ivanisevic this morning, you may see even the stiffest upper lips bend. Mind, for that to happen, it has to stop raining first.

I've had a tough week at work for once, but a fulfilling one. As usual, doing hard, proficient work makes me feel good, and reconciles me, for a while, to my job. Since I'm leading a project which isn't due to finish until well after I've left on vacation on July 17th, it's obvious that the hard work is going to continue like this until that date. I started to come down with a cold on Wednesday evening and normally, when this happens, I immediately take sick leave, since I've discovered that's the fastest way to recover. Absolute rest, no exposure to cold or tension, and lots of herbal tea. This time, though, I didn't feel as if I could do that, so I worked through the last two days, and, this morning, feel pretty rotten as a result.

Still, my vacation to England with Brett is fast approaching, Henman is beating Ivanisevic, and I'm enjoying my job for once. Can't complain. Much :)

July 4th sunset over Telegraph Hill

Night draws near. You can see the long trail of cars heading along the Embarcadero in the fruitless search for parking spots to see the fireworks in the Marina.

Fireworks! (My digital camera doesn't work so good at night!)