I prefer to live my life swaddled in a blanket of security, protected from the horrors of everyday life by layers of imaginary armour. Living with she who must be obeyed provides me with all the danger and conflict I require in my declining years. But today I found myself outside my comfort zone; twice.

First of all, I deleted Pattaya Days. I have been having some problems with the admin part of the site for some months; with 404 errors popping up when it should have reported “done that, my master”. Various attempts were made to resolve the problem; but I was eventually left with only one option; delete everything and re-install. The trick with Wordpress is that some of the files represent the design of the site; and other are for the generic Wordpress installation; so you have to save the design part; delete and re-install the rest, and then put back the design part. For someone of my limited (non-existent) technical skills, the opportunities for a massive fuck-up are wide ranging.

Very long time readers of this journal will no doubt not remember that my very first post, in March 2008, was a muse on my most excellent coffee machine, a La Pavoni Professional:

It is with deep regret that I have to announce that I was overcome with excitement with my purchase today of a grout scrubber:

Keen to expose she who must be obeyed’s little sister to the many delights of Pattaya, we take her to Mimosa.

A parcel from October Revolution Street in Moscow arrived this afternoon. Was it the “Putin Supporters Pack” I had been hoping for? No, something more mundane; yet another Russian lens.

Thanks to my unnecessarily large Russian camera collection, I already had an unnecessarily large Russian lens collection. But they are tempting and cheap little buggers and I keep buying them, most recently a Tair 11A and a Jupiter 11, the latter in response to a YouTube video from “Blunty”. The Tair I am uncertain about, the Jupiter 11 I adore.

Then “Blunty” posted another Russian lens review, this time of the the Jupiter 3, and he liked it; a lot.

This surprised me because I have a Jupiter 3 and I like it, not in the slightest. This maybe because it had accumulated significant cleaning marks on the front element during fifty seven years of use; or maybe it was on of those Monday morning vodka hangover lenses. Whatever, it had scored badly on my great Russian lens comparison test and had been put to one side to be dumped on eBay at some point.

But Mr. Blunty was so effusive in his praise that I thought I ought to take another stab at the Jupiter 3; and it was copy number two that arrived today.

Like the Kiev camera and many lenses, the Jupiter 3 arose from the Russian takeover of Contax and Zeiss after the second world war. Zeiss had produced the well-regarded Karl Zeiss Sonnar 50mm F1.5 in the 1930’s. The Russians appropriated the designs, the toolings and even the glass; and produced what became known as the Jupiter 3. Production from 1951-54 used old Zeiss glass; thereafter the design changed slightly and production continued into the 1980s. As with the Kiev cameras, the earlier the better; so I scoured eBay looking for something cheap, clean and old; and here it is:

Pattaya does not solely cater to those who like to spend their time in bars and then insert their genitals in places they should really avoid; although this is the perception of some (mainly those who spend their time in bars, and STD clinics).

The vast majority of overseas tourists are families (mainly Russian), and every weekend also sees a flood of Thai visitors escaping Bangkok. They are all seeking amusements, and many attractions have realised that visitors are happy as long as there are things they can stand next to and be photographed. Nong Nuch has some spectacular flowers; but the most popular location features pink concrete cows. Mimosa offers fake, brightly-coloured houses to serve as a back-drop to the crucial selfie; and Art in Paradise is just rooms full of photo opportunities. Given these requirements, Pattaya Sheep Farm should do very well.

It’s a sprawling site on the outskirts of Pattaya.

I am pleased to report that the massive condo overhaul is nearing completion, with only a few minor jobs to complete the transformation.

One such job was the replacement of the door bell. The old one failed and even though we rarely get visitors, they shouldn’t have to hammer on the door to gain attention. So a new bell was procured and, with batteries installed, I started to work through the 36 chimes on offer. I was happy with “ding dong”, but she who must be obeyed wanted something more exclusive, something that truly reflected our status in society. She soon found it, an atrocious little jingle which she happily advised me was the theme “tune” to that most awful of Japanese manga characters; Doraemon.