Time to let my daughter fly.

My daughter begins college on Monday. Is it just fathers of girls who feel so terrified? I know I have to let her leave the house sometimes. If I had my way she wouldn't have her first date until she was forty. It's a big bad world out there and full of men who, well men who are just like I was. Which isn't to say I did anything bad or illegal but very little other than food, computer games and the the other thing ever enters their minds. There weren't any computer games when I was a teen and I've never eaten much which left only one thing.
  I'll probably get over it but I hope it isn't too soon. Of all the places for a girl to grow up, London isn't the one I would have chosen.
  I asked my wife a few months ago if we could go home - to Birmingham.
  'Yes', she said, 'of course. The very moment we're divorced or I'm dead.'
  So I suppose that means no.

   Anyway, I was going to do normal stuff this weekend to have a rest from writing. Well I thought very hard and I can't remember what normal is so I'll just write. To that end I've just bought another box of keyboards from the computer faire which means I'll be fine for a month or so. The guy there knows me now and always gives me a gleeful smile and a serious discount. I wonder if he thinks I'm doing something deviant with them. I'm not; it's just that keyboards don't last (me) very long. A single mug of tea dripped onto them and they're finished. And that rotten cat did for one last week when she hurled chunks all over it.

  And there's a someone in my street whose found a way of hacking into my wireless network. I spent an hour working on 128 bit, and he's still hacking me.
  But unlike the last time, I'll write down the new code instead of trying to remember it. I wonder if I can use Cyrillic in an encryption code; or maybe Esperanto. Or even better: Klingon