2007 — 15 Feb: time to get up!

I'm off to sunny Calshot¹ at the crack of 9 a.m. in what, I suspect, may be quite a well air-cooled car (a 20-year-old 2CV). It will by then have had time, during the course of last night, to attain an ambient temperature that was certainly still heading downward when I checked at 11:40 after a heart-warming episode of Boston Legal.

But why? Partly to keep my neighbour company. Mostly in pursuit of his elusive MOT certificate. I admit, however, I'm definitely operating on a degree of trust that there will be something hot and wet in the potable line when (if?) we arrive, of course.

Back safely & certificated

With a new-found respect for the automotive capabilities of the Citroen's suspension but a much lower respect, bordering on contempt, for the seaside and near-seaside amenities (not) on offer by way of refreshment (on a lovely fresh Spring-like morning that happens to be in the middle of Winter) because we are "out of season". People still need to eat and drink, you know. Especially us poor pensioners!

In other news

My slowly-growing collection of George Herriman's Krazy & Ignatz continues with today's delivery of the strip from 1937 to 1938: Shifting Sands Dusts its Cheeks in Powdered Beauty.

plus, who could forget the bane of this strange love triangle, Officer Pupp?

Day 104

Footnote

¹ The embarrassing scene, over twenty years ago, of my failed attempt to run around a tilted indoor cycle track fast enough to stay upright. I was well aware of the equations governing my attempt — (m*v²/r) — in the unlikely event of my being a point mass, for example. But I admit I hadn't fully grokked the need for a minimum speed — ([gr/f]^0.5) — somewhat in excess of my capability to generate. Still, I now know that broken fingers can actually knit quite nicely when wrapped fairly tightly for a week or so in a handkerchief soaked in witch hazel.