2012 — 4 September: Tuesday
Then there are other mornings1 when, presumably in a weird variant of Newton's 3rd 'law' of motion, sleep has a lie-in. Which could be why it's now 09:02 and ticking towards the time of my walking rendezvous. And me both un-breakfasted and un-packed-lunched (as it were).
I don't think I like the sound of deep-fried bubblegum (even though it is really marshmallow). Only in Texas, naturally. (Link.)
It would seem...
... from an item in my little 'spam' midden, that I have a distant admirer :-)
That must have been the night I drank too much vodka. No, wait, I don't drink vodka, except after steeping damsons in it for a couple of years. And then only a thimble or so at a time.
Meanwhile, in the real world, after a delightful (new) walk in what's turned into an Indian summer it's time to clear all the junk out of the car ahead of its service tomorrow, and sink another cuppa, or two.
If this afternoon's...
... ornithological discovery thrown up by Mike's pixel apparatus turns out to be a previously unknown species...
... then we're thinking of naming them "long-necked amphibious humongous sparrows." For obvious reasons.
Not only did I actually remember to put my "glass bottles" crate out for collection in time this month, I've also now reduced all the cardboard that was used to package my TV stand and popped it into the "green" bin for collection tomorrow. I'm still trying to think of a use for the large flat slabs of polystyrene packing. At the moment they're acting as a light seal behind the curtains at the back of my living room. Unaesthetic, I grant you, but effective.
I shall even admit to my afternoon reading: "Triplanetary" ring any bells? Surprisingly enjoyable. But it's 18:37, the sun has long since vanished, and the increasingly acute hunger pangs are now stridently demanding I do something about them.
[Pause]
And so, as Pepys is supposed to have said, to bed.