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Now the sun is up, it's quite bright with plenty of blue sky. Sadly the Lufthansa lounge's view of the airfield is obscured by the bars on the exterior of the building (some design aesthetic).
Chilly in here at 14.7 deg, 12 in the kitchen, 10 in the leanto.
989.5 mBar, 29.22 in Hg, 742.2 Torr, 14.351 psi, (down from 991 last night), 55% RH (Lidl electric).
Meanwhile on the 2nd of March 2020 there was more talk of watches, T2 and T5 at Heathrow, whilst NF was up a stepladder changing the bulb in the kitchen, only to find that all the available bulbs were defunct so had to cook tea by the desk lamp, on top of which there was the excitement of The Crash up the Road, BR14 was mentioned but AWOL, and the gravy I'd made was disgusting and thusly discarded.
Walk (unabbreviated, towpath) walked in the sunshine. Even had two conversations.
Lovely sunset with golden rays shining up the valley, boyo. There's tidy then.
I've realised that when the clock goes back I seem to stop doing anything much and, instead, hibernate inside. Odd innit?
Tea: Mr Brains faggots with peas & such. Nice enough.
Entertainment: PM.
The Nazi programme: The battle of Kursk.
Thing about Merthyr Tydfil: seen it before: the glories of 200 years ago <click>
The Oak Island nutjobs. The metal detecting nutjob finds lots of pottery in the swamp along with a piece of the heel (or 'eel) of a leather boot. The latest drill hole starts bringing up chunks of 17th century plastic poly something drillhole lining. Ooops. Some expert dates last week's glass beads to 1500 to 1650. And there was a George III penny.
Tonight’s viewing was the remaining bit of an episode of Police Interceptors I started watching on, I think, Friday
Later, I finished reading A Gun for Sale. An excellent novel! I must get around to reading more of Graham Greene’s early stuff; I’ve got his Collected Short Stories, so I might make a start on that next
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