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Morning all Last day (this week) in the land that produced the deep fried Mars bar. Home tonight, WFH tomorrow, then off to the land that produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, the Renaissance and Alfa Romeos.
Morning all Last day (this week) in the land that produced the deep fried Mars bar. Home tonight, WFH tomorrow, then off to the land that produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, the Renaissance and Alfa Romeos.
And that most memorable car, the Lancia Beta, well known for falling in half.
Morning.
Grey.
Dark.
Dire.
Dreary.
Drizzly.
Depressing.
Misty. This morning there is no sign of Baglan mountain, Margam, or, indeed, the cranes on the other wharf.
Some of this is down to the tulipe on the windows, but it's misty as well.
Warmer side of notsocold.
And I have 11 days of holiday to take over Easter.
I'm off to London this afternoon; to the RAF Club on Piccadilly, to be precise, for a talk this evening by historian Guy Walters on the Great Escape being less a heroic endeavour and more a complete balls-up, and not just for getting fifty PoWs murdered (I paraphrase)
I'm not staying down there, though; the talk will be over at a civilised hour, I'll probably have time for a pint of Spitfire in the bar there, and then I'm getting a late train back.
One of the odder* passengers spent much of the trip discussing the treatment of her puppy with some vet or other
Better than talking about her own illnesses like so many old farts do. The last thing you need when you're in a cafe slurping your tomato soup is somebody to start talking about Crohn’s disease.
I downloaded shedloads of Ciarcia's Circuit Cellar, which started off understandable & simple with 8080, Z80, & suchlike & gradually became more & more obscure as time went on.
X7 home.
One of the odder* passengers spent much of the trip discussing the treatment of her puppy with some vet or other.
It's a shau pei & requires surgery so the poor fecking thing can see properly.
Tea/dinner was the remains of the chicken from Sunday.
I remembered the cranberry sauce which spiced it up a little.
Haven't seen the next door neighbours, I assume they haven't killed each other yet.
This evening's epic turned out to be "The Spiral Staircase (1946)" with a shedload of people I've never heard of apart from Elsa Lanchester (Bride of Frankenstein) and Ethel Barrymore.***
Just found out ours appears to have 2 Luxated Pattella's. Waiting on an appointment with the orthopaedic specialist, potentially looking at surgery on both back legs
Thanks god for insurance.
"Being nice costs nothing and sometimes gets you extra bacon" - Pondlife.
Morning all Last day (this week) in the land that produced TV, telephones, penicillin, tyres, logarithms etc etc Home tonight, WFH tomorrow, then off to the land that produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, the Renaissance and Alfa Romeos.
Better than talking about her own illnesses like so many old farts do. The last thing you need when you're in a cafe slurping your tomato soup is somebody to start talking about Crohn’s disease.
Been there, was on the bus coming home on a Saturday morning from Tesco, only to find myself sat in front of a pair of elderly ladies talking about colostomy problems.
Suppose I'd better start getting ready to head to London. The RAF Club has a dress code, even for visitors to non-club events, which includes a strict no T-shirts rule
No ripped jeans either, though I don't have any of those, or not deliberately. And at least they don't demand a tie (though they do of members in certain rooms at certain times of day).
Anyway, I'll make myself look moderately respectable and rely on my public school charm to carry me the rest of the way
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