Morning.
Sunday.
Grey.
Misty.
Sunless.
Drily damp.
14.4 deg in here, 13.3 in the kitchen, 10 in the leanto, 6 out the back.
1016 mBar, 30 in Hg, 762 Torr, 14.74 psi, (down from 1017 last night), 66% RH (Lidl electric).
A curiously decent night's sleep, though where the bit about Samuel R. Delany came from is a mystery, other than a reference to him in a review on Goodreads of "Nine Princes in Amber" by Roger Zelazny.
It just generated some sort of error trying to edit this after editing a post further down: refreshing the page fixed it.
Walk (
unabbreviated, towpath up to the res & back) walked in the sunshine. Said res is still looking absolutely fine: and I found someone who'd met someone who'd taken a photo of it when it was 3/4 empty & orange, which proved that I hadn't dreamed it. Which was good. My sense of reality isn't very strong these days.
Had a wee in the leat instead of the canal: it's getting colder out there & at my age etc.

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Lunch: brunch. Watched the walkpast on BBC1W. One of the participants was 103.
Alan Cummings Scottish Islands thing: Barra, Eriskay, South Uist, North Uist, Berneray, Harris, Lewis, Callanish. Abandoned crofts.
Book. Other book.
Tea: beans on toast with scrambled egg. Nice enough.
Entertainment: 17 o'clock news. Something or other. The thing about Values & why engineers were first up against the redundancy wall when AI discovered how to code.
Oak Island bollox. More wood etc. A venetian glass bead, one, very small, red. More wood. Logs of wood in the swamp comprising what might be a stage leading to, wait for it, The Eye of Ye Swamp. More digging in the swamp now they've stopped digging in Smith's Cove. Again. The X ray florescence lady, Emma, always seems to be laughing at them in the so called "War Room". I gain the impression she can't get over being paid for all this crap.
Henry Cole crap <click quicker than one might reasonably expect can't stand the ****>
Edited highlights of the morning's events.
Another ep of the Duchovny bollox on Blaze: The Oak Ridge Plutonium experiments to find out what injecting
4.5mg 4.7ug of Pu into someone does. Nothing good, much as one might have expected. Ebb Cade died in 1953. The USSR supersoldier project: mating chimps & humans, humans and chimps: oddly enough due to the differing count of chromosomes it doesn't work. Unit 731. Plague Island, Aral Sea: those nice Russians working on adapting smallpox & other nasties as weapons. Who'd have thunk? Mr Roman Tritz: flew B17s during WWII, got PTSD, received "treatment" from the VA that included hot & cold sprays, insulin coma therapy, ECT, and finally a lobotomy. Poor sod survived until he was 97, still as fecked up as when he started with the added advantage of state sponsored brain damage. Brainwashing by Edward Hunter, a CIA plant who wrote a book based on Pavlov's human experiments in that nice Russia in the 1920s. DDR, Stasi, Erich Milke: collecting bottles of individual's human scent so they could be tracked using dogs.