Freshly Spilled Thoughts

Every time I buy a packet of Kallo Organic lightly salted wholegrain low fat rice cakes (JESUS, what a tongue twister that is), I open them and get carried away. They seem so inconsequential that you can just plough through them like a farmer in a field.

LOL it’s absolutely bloody fatal.

“Yeah, I bought these because they are healthy and low in calories?”

“Really? How many in a pack? About 30 or something?”

“Yeah. I guess”

“How many do you eat in one sitting? Two? Three?”

“Erm. 30 in a pack you say?

I have to stop buying them I think. It’s like a cocaine addict saying they’re fine with one line and then ending up with his face buried in a mountain of the stuff like Al Pacino in Scarface.

Excuse me, I just OD’d on Rice cakes. What can I say, I’m living on the edge 😉

Sometimes I miss the old gym crew. It was like Cheers but with weights at the time…

We all look mad in this photo.

So much fun. Hard… but fun.

That gym now costs about £135 a month to be a member so the clientele would be somewhat different.

I’m still a member.

Wow… I totally forgot this picture being taken. Summer 2025…

“I Forgot What Photos Were Taken Last Summer” 🙂

At this time of year, during brass monkeys cold weather, there is something extra special about hot showers.

The bit where they end isn’t as good, but there’s a sweet spot where you feel lovely and warm and it’s at that point I say to myself, “I have reached Nirvana”

Unfortunately it only lasts 5 minutes, but it’s good while it lasts.

Extra points if you do stretches while you’re there (multi-tasking).

I sometimes wonder if I’m the only one that thinks phones have got too BIG.

If you want to pick up a new phone now, you basically have to carry a slab around with you.

Does anyone remember when the thing was to try to get them as tiny as possible? I quite liked being able to hold it in one hand, as the bishop once said to the actress.

Smut and jokes aside, I liked it when you could put a phone in your pocket instead of a rucksack. It was more like a secret weapon back then, only you could send and receive messages on it. I felt more empowered with a basic phone than I do with one you can put a shit ton of apps on.

Eventually we’ll all just be carrying televisions around with us and calling them phones 🙂

Don’t get me wrong – I get it. I know we can never go backwards and that people now think YouTube, Spotify, Instagram, Facebook and Amazon IS the internet.

I spent quite some time looking to see what new compact phones were available that were still decent and to be honest there aren’t many of them.

Which is something of a dilemma when you come to upgrade.

The really small ones are too small (I’m talking Unihertz Jelly 3.0 inch which won’t be large enough to satisfy most consumers).

And the next ones up are just too big.

Where is Goldilocks when you need her? You know, the one that’s ‘just right’.

Is bigger always better? I’m not so sure, but consumers vote with their wallets so that means people are clearly loving having a big one at the moment.

The Two Hander is very much a thing in 2026. lol the Two Hander as I’ve just dubbed it.

I went into Birmingham’s Chinese Quarter over the weekend. I’m no expert on these things but apparently number 37 on the Menu is the one to go for 😉

I don’t really need the hustle and bustle of the city to get my kicks and would always gladly trade you countryside pubs for it. I prefer the chilled out nature of people that live in those areas as well and you don’t need a stab proof vest.

There’s one place in the Chinese Quarter one of my mates keeps banging on about, which is supposed to be an amazing place to eat, so next time I see him I’m going to find out what exactly that is and that’s where I’ll go next time I’m up there. Probably 2027 then (lol).

It seems I made a new fan to the right of me in this photo. Good day to you Sir, I’ve preserved you for prosperity (or at least until this blog sputters out).

Monday has just sneaked up on us like a thief in the night and Bob Geldof is nowhere to be seen.

I’m still a couple of caffeinated drinks away from being fully in the flow.

But the show goes on…

Monday. Here we are. Hurrah (cup of joy etc).

Someone remind me to write about Everwood at some point (not a euphemism).

Six things I could never do without

• Laughter
• Exercise
• Music
• Good conversation
• A mind that keeps me on my toes

That’s 5. The sixth one isn’t a thing. It’s a feeling.

Rolo playing Peekaboo…

I had the most amazing night sleep, like the ones when you have when you’re a teenager when you practically go into hibernation even though the universe wants you to do boring things like A Levels. As I was awaking from my slumber, a song by The Carpenters was playing in perfect pitch.

Back in my college days I could never get up on time so I had two alarms I’d set. One was a normal *Beep Beep* style one and the next one was an alarm clock that talked to you which I think I bought from Argos.

It was very camp and it would start off nice and quiet saying, “It’s time to get up now”.

A minute or so would go by and it would say nearly the same thing again, only slightly louder: “It really is time to get up”

After the third reminder it changed what it was saying, got MUCH louder and began to sound really pissed off with me. It was a very disciplinarian alarm clock, all things considered.

I always ignored him because I’m an anti-authority rebel like that, but it was so loud it woke up everyone else in the house.

Ironically, this was the thing that actually woke me up, much to everyone elses chagrin.

HA HA, it’s still funny thinking about it…

“Camp Transvestite Sounding Alarm Clock for Sale. It won’t wake you up, but everyone else will be so pissed off with it, they’ll wake you up instead.”

Overall it was good value for money. 8 out of 10.

Many moons ago one of the first jobs I had was at a Gas company. We were all temping at the time and we were on a desk of 5. There was an older woman that used to run a pub, who also regularly played Bingo and she kept winning money. She won so often that we even jokingly talked about taking up Bingo ourselves (minus the blue rinse).

There was also a guy I sat opposite who was super talented and went on to run an animation company. The other two were already together and we all got on like a house on fire. I only worked there part time as I had another job in the afternoon, so I used to rush from there to an I.T. job later in the day.

Looking back, we were all over qualified for the menial job we were doing and it was such an unlikely turn of events that we should all be in such close proximity. The guy that later went on to run the animation company was one of the brightest people I’ve ever met and the other two were no slouches who already had degrees. I honestly don’t know how we ended up working there really.

When they realised how well we all got on, they inevitably split us up which is something they used to do often in offices. Getting on with each other = Less Productivity. I ended up facing a wall (good way to shut me up) and I left to work at the I.T. place full time, but I always missed those guys. If I had my time over again I’d have stayed longer just for the bants, but when you’re on the same desk the chemistry is different.

In those days we didn’t have social media and not many people had mobile phones, so I lost touch with them until everyone decided Facebook was a good idea.

Those two I worked with back then have now been together for 30 years. What an amazing love story that restores my faith in humanity (lol).

And here they are (bless):

You always know when perfume or aftershave is being sold on TV…

It’s always artfully directed. They usually draft someone in we know like Johnny Depp and then they speak a lot of twaddle, which is invariably in French.

There’s usually an embrace at the end, intimating that the viewer’s life will be complete if they go on to make a purchase.

“You’ll smell dead gorgeous and you’ll be livin’ your best life when you’ve picked this up, like. I’ll see thee after a brew, flower“, would be the stereotypically up North version.

Doesn’t quite work as well does it?

When I was in the gym the other day, I’m sure there was a bloke wearing perfume. Maybe his aftershave ran out or he watched one of those adverts, got carried away and bought the wrong thing.

“Well, I’m not wasting it now I’ve bought it.”

We all sort of accept these adverts and they must work by selling the scented dream, but I’d rather they did it about things like Steak, Chips and Onion Rings.

LOL imagine an artfully directed advert about a pub meal. J’adore le steak! Eau de Onion Ring. Limited edition.

Johnny Depp then has to go and fetch his own condiments at the end, just like in real life.

You know how some things in your day you just don’t plan?

Like coming face to face with a badger.

I never woke up that particular day thinking to myself, “I hope today I finally have my long awaited badger encounter”

It just wasn’t on my bucket list.

The badger didn’t care though, it was determined to have a rendezvous and it wasn’t taking no for an answer.

That day I happened to be looking out of the kitchen window, staring into space, when all of a sudden I saw something that looked rather powerful coming towards me.

At first I thought it was an escaped dog, until it got closer.

It moved faster than I’d expect a badger to move and it had powerful looking front legs.

It would just be the worst Western ever if we’d met up at high noon. Me at one end and a badger who fancied his chances at the other. Billy the Kid would just piss himself.

Undeterred it covered the whole length of the garden before purposefully darting off into a hedge.

Badgers are much more scary than Harry Hill would have you believe. He called one Tasmin Archer Badger and that made me think they just enjoyed listening to Sleeping Satellite.

I think if a badger jumped out at me from a hedge I’d definitely leg it. You aren’t going to hang around and reason with it are you?

That’s what Timothy Treadwell did with Grizzly Bears and they ate him. He was so deluded about apex predators that he even called them names like “Chocolate”. He used to chat away to them not realising they’d never been arsed to read a copy of the concise Oxford English dictionary.

The same bear ate his girlfriend as well after she hit him on the head with a metal saucepan (I felt more sorry for the girlfriend because Tim probably sold the whole bear thing to her as an ‘experience’). Humans are the meals bears can eat between meals without ruining their appetite.

Me? I prefer Milky Ways ’cause I’m civilised 😉

Before I sound like some kind of part-time Saint, I’m going to begin this entry with a Bukowski quote:

“That’s the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.”
—Charles Bukowski

So with that out of the way, I am going through a phase of trying out alcohol free beer during times the halo hasn’t slipped.

Here’s what I’ve tried so far on my quest:

Leffe 0% – This may be my favourite when the wind is blowing in the right direction. It comes in bottles and it tastes totally different to everything else (they even put cloves in it – nobody does that, not even Ooompa-Loompas). The only downside is it weighs in at more than 100 calories per bottle. It’s a drink you’d have if you had a moustache you enjoyed twizzling, I’d say.

Guinness 0.05% – If you can tell the difference between this and alcohol laden Guinness, you must be of Irish descent. Last time I drank one a leprechaun appeared out of nowhere. Honestly, the most surprising thing for people that try this is that it does actually taste exactly like Guinness. They think it’s wizardry. About 16g of carbs a can and 75 calories.

I told my Aunt it had 0.05% alcohol and she freaked out. “I can’t drink any alcohol“, she said dramatically. “Don’t worry, your body will metabolise that before you’ve even opened the can“, I assured her. She didn’t look convinced.

Ghost Ship 0.5% Ale – Pretty decent with a super cool name. All aboard the ghost ship. It’s not as good as a Bishops Finger, but not many thing are. It flirts with me in Sainsbury’s sometimes.

Side Note: While I’m going down the rabbit hole of suggestive names, here’s a few more I’ve never handled but apparently exist: Lusty Monk, Whiplash IPA and Bare Ass Blond Ale. I don’t know how I’d feel about putting a bare ass blonde ale on the counter and paying for it to be honest. “I just fancied some bare ass this evening” isn’t really something you should ever say to a shopkeeper now is it.

Brewdog Nanny State – It’s super low in calories but I can’t fall in love with it. It does what it says on the tin, but you end up feeling a bit disappointed. A bit like going to a Take That concert I’d imagine 🙂

Brooklyn Special Effects Ale 0.4% – This is right up there taste wise and probably the best ale type out there that has passed my lips. They used to do it in bottles but now it’s in cans. Would go well with a pizza if you wanted to go carb crazy for the evening.

Shipyard Pale Ale 0.5% – Pretty decent again really. They sometimes sell this in pubs (I’m mainly saying that because I drank it in a pub).

Becks Blue – This was the first non alcoholic lager I ever tried. At the time I didn’t think it was that bad, but things have evolved since then.

I’ve tried more, but I can’t remember all the names.

The Top  3 On Dean’s Alcohol Free Podium Are [1]: 

1. Leffe 0%
2. Brooklyn Special Effects 0.4%
3. Guinness 0.05%

Nothing non-alcoholic actually beats alcohol, that’s just a fact of life, so I’d never make such bold claims.

However, if you want to feel bright and breezy the following day, they’re not a bad substitute.

Of course, you can drink water as well if you’re into that sort of thing 😉

Warning: NEVER (never ever ever) drink or buy alcohol free wine. They haven’t got anywhere near perfecting this and it tastes worse than old sock. If you want to drink wine, stick to the real thing. If you ignore these words of wisdom you’ll have to pretend to like it until the bottle runs out.

Wine lovers around the country look at alcohol free wine with levels of contempt usually only reserved for traffic wardens.

[1] I’m classing anything 0.5% ABV or below as alcohol free.

It’s never hump day already.

It is you know…

More humps than a fleet of camels.

If Wednesday was a song it would be Islands In The Stream.

Islands in the stream
That is what we are
No one in between
How can we be wrong?
Sail away with me
To another world
And we rely on each other, ah-ah

Speaking of sailing, I had a soft spot for Nigel & Nippy in A Place In France.

Nippy was a practical, no-nonsense guy grounded in common sense. Nigel was a romantic who had bucket loads of enthusiasm for life and what was possible if you dared to follow your dream.

I always liked Nigel because he threw himself into everything like a kid would, without worrying too much about what could go wrong :). I suspect Nigel never looked up the meaning of the word ‘contingency’ in the dictionary.

Nippy used to just get frustrated with him – very much an A + B = C, type. He didn’t have time for any romanticised notions.

Despite his failings, Nigel was very much so the most likeable of the two and that made you want him to succeed, even when he was chasing after a flying pig.

Somehow these two very different people were friends and they bought a dilapidated place in France together, which they renovated.

Nigel being Nigel, fell in love with the local estate agent about 20 years younger than him (lol).

They did it up and sold it, then Nigel ended up sleeping in a tent and alsorts. Later he set up an Indian restaurant in France, which didn’t work out.

Finally, he sailed off in a boat for about a year with a woman called Susan.

There’s never been anything quite like it on TV, before or since.

The original property they bought and where the dream started, was in Ardèche. These people visited Ardèche and somehow managed to find it:

https://noparticularplacetogo.co.uk/the-ardeche-southern-central-france/

Nigel was a legend, no-doubt no-diggety. His friendship with Nippy was so unlikely it became greater than the sum of its parts as a fly-on-the-wall viewer.

I hoped that wouldn’t be the last we’d have seen of Nigels antics on TV. Sadly he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and left us in 2011 at 58 years of age, which shocked me when I read the news.

Life is a bitch sometimes eh. They never repeated it on TV for years but someone came to the rescue and put the episodes on YouTube (yay).

There’s a book by Ray Bradbury titled, “We’ll Always Have Paris”

That’s a nice thing to be able to say isn’t it…

… you know, in passing:

“Well [insert name here], we’ll always have Paris.”

You can say something like that and do a bit of flouncing. It’s a perfect underline that cannot be topped.

It’s much better than saying, “We’ll always remember the time we shared a Doner Kebab just after the pubs were closed”

Or…

“We’ll always have the time we ran out of petrol on the way back from Stonehenge”

Or…

“We’ll always have that deflated dinghy that we nearly capsized in when we went night fishing in Wales”

Or…

“We’ll always have a spare pair of tights just in case the alternator belt breaks and we need to use it in a makeshift fashion to get home”

Paris has the romance and the intrigue.

Broken Sword: Shadow of the Templars is still the perfect Autumn fix because it’s set in Paris.

Strange then, that I’ve never actually been to Paris.

I’ve been all the way through France and Germany. I’ve been on a ski lift in Yugoslavia (as it was known then).

I’ve been to Austria, and spent a day or two in Italy.

But Paris… no.

I can’t say to anyone that, “We’ll Always Have Paris”

So that is something I need to remedy. One of my friends has bought an apartment in Paris, which I guess is what has got me thinking about it.

If you were a starving artist, at one time there would be no better place to be, sipping Absinthe (or “The Green Fairy” as it’s also known) in between paintings as you listened to other raconteurs with arty dispositions.

First though, I suppose I should read that book by Bradbury (I just liked the title to be honest).

A pub near me sells Tera Roja Malbec and it goes so well with steak that it should really be a sin.

And I suppose it is.

So it’s with a heavy heart I’m turning my back on this divine tipple for the next 3 months.

All the best things come with consequences don’t they.

Why is that?

There is no penance for Brussel Sprouts.

Or water that gets filtered through rocks and plonked into plastic bottles.

But enjoyment without sacrifice invariably comes at a price.

You want free dopamine? We’ll have to give you a hangover and make your organs work overtime.

You want it the hard way? You’ll have to run 5km and sweat like an extra cavorting in an Inner Circle music video.

Ah la-la-la-la-long
Ah la-la-la-la-long-long, li-long, long-long
Ooh

There’s a devil on one shoulder and an angel on another.

I’m an angel by day but by night I turn into a creature of indulgence. Keeping the lid on that thing has always been a double edged sword.

Volvic it is then. BORING! 🙂

Or is it? People I know that don’t drink at all seem really happy. This was an alien concept to me.

They had no desire for it. No inclination towards zero cost dopamine, facilitated by an easily filled pint glass.

All these super healthy, high functioning people thriving on H20 as God intended. It didn’t seem very Gen X to me.

How can they not want a bottle of Bud now and again?

Socially I still think it’s a great thing. There’s conversations and times I never would have had without someone pouring that stuff into a glass.

So regret nothing. There’s no need to quit, we just have to take a break from time to time.

And that time for me… is now, with the odd social interlude.

Does anyone remember when chocolate was genuinely orgasmic?

Old Cadbury’s bars were milky units of wonder, so solidly built it was difficult to break them by hand. You had to commit.

I actually used to work in Bournville, back when you could smell chocolate in the air before you even saw the factory.

That was before it was sold off to the highest bidder. Before someone in an ivory tower decided that profit mattered more than the thing itself.

“Our products need more sugar,” they allegedly said.
“What about the milk and cocoa butter?”
“Don’t worry about that. Replace it with palm oil. The hoi polloi will eat whatever we give them and they will jolly well like it.”

And if they had said that, they were right.

It was a quiet turning point, really. Not just for chocolate, but for anything that used to feel indulgent without compromise on quality. Best of luck finding anything as good as that on the supermarket shelves in 2026.

Willy Wonka would need pharmaceutical assistance to get excited about chocolate these days. Even that’s probably been diluted down to the point where consumerss fly at half-mast unless they take two.

Didn’t we all just take Cadbury’s chocolate as it was for granted. The funny thing about human nature is that things like this only feel irreplaceable once they’ve already been replaced with something altogether inferior.

11 years ago, back in 2015, I was minding my own business looking at DVD’s in Sainsbury’s. I was perusing the aisle to see if anything took my viewing fancy.

I don’t recall exactly why, but I was tilting my head, looking at one of the DVD’s on display (probably trying to read something at an angle), when all of a sudden I sensed someone standing next to me with their head tilted as well.

I thought, “Who is this weirdo standing next to me?”

It was one of my friends, who coincidentally happened to be in there. He’d seized the opportunity to take the piss out of my noggin, situated at a 45 degree angle.

“What are you looking for?“, he asked.

“I don’t know exactly. Just seeing if there’s anything good. Are you into sci-fi?”

“Yes I am.”

“Is The Martian worth watching? I haven’t seen that yet?”

“Well it depends. Do you like watching people plant potatoes on Mars?”

“Not really. I don’t mind if there’s an assortment of vegetables, but one foodstuff just isn’t going to hold my attention.”

“Well that’s it basically. A bloke planting tatties on his own and watering them.”

“I think I’ll give that a miss”

“Have you seen Interstellar?”

“No.”

“Well, if you haven’t seen that. Forget everything else, that’s the epic film you need to watch next.”

He actually said it was EPIC. I can think of another four letter word for it.

Now I am a fan of sci-fi. I love the Twilight Zone, Ray Bradbury and some sci-fi films so this should have been right up my alley. However, it ended up on my “to watch” list for 11 years until just the other day.

I had high hopes for this film and expected something amazing, so I was fully signed up for some kind of thrill ride into outer space. I rate Matthew McConaughey in films like Gold, but seriously? This guys accent isn’t suited to anyone working officially or unofficially for NASA. It already felt unbelievable to me that a ‘hick from the sticks’ with that kind of drawl would be in a film like this.

No matter, I carried on watching. The next thing I found ridiculous was the manner in which they stumbled into a secret NASA project station where they were planning the next mission, and it just so happened Matthew M was already fully trained up as a pilot to neatly meet this elite requirement . How very convenient – the script must have been written by the same people who make those painting by numbers books.

After a brief appearance from Michael Caine rambling on about how much they needed him to fly off into outer space for years, I was expecting things filled with wonder. Maybe they’d visit other planets and have a chat with other lifeforms or something.

Instead what the viewer is greeted with is an absurd scenario where the crew unexpectedly ages and end up being communicated to in one-way fashion by eternally confused loved ones back home, decades on via the medium of pre-recorded videos that somehow get magically transmitted to a fault. I never worked out why the crew couldn’t just reply and say, “Thanks for your video, I’m having a brilliant time floating around in a tin can“, because the script writers had obviously made the communication a one-way affair. What a load of balls.

It’s like a shit version of Surprise Surprise, but without Cilla Black.

After that it goes from bad to worse, but I don’t want to spoil it for anyone other than to say I thought it was about as much fun to watch as being trapped in a lift with Lenny Henry.

For me there were no real redeeming features. I wouldn’t even recommend this to fans of space. It’s one of those films that pretentious critics and me-too movie goers say is brilliant, when it really isn’t all. I actually said out aloud, “I hate this film. Please let it be over soon“, then I cheered when the credits rolled.

The credits were the best thing about it.

Dean’s Verdict:

1 out of 5. 

Interstellar is the most mundane and dreary assembly of space shite I have ever endured. I give this film a mere 1 drinking horn out of 5… and that’s being generous (IMDB don’t know what they’re talking about). I’ve derived more enjoyment from watching Button Moon on TV when I was a kid. I would rather count peas for 2 hours than ever watch this film again. Instead of subjecting yourself to this, check out First Men In The Moon (1964) which is very silly, but at least you’ll have a good laugh at a bloke building a rocket so he can whizz off to the moon and have a jolly good time. And why wouldn’t you?

I quite like semi-ridiculous Horror. Stuff like Severance with Danny Dyer in (I know, you wouldn’t think Horror & Dyer went together would you). A team building weekend that goes bump in the night.

Wrong Turn and The Hills Have Eyes are also in this lane.

The latest one I watched was a foreign one called “Nobody Sleeps In The Woods Tonight”.

Personally, I’ve never slept in the woods on any night (perish the thought). The nearest I got to that was going camping and getting cramp in one leg whilst inside the tent, when I was taking my trousers off. I ended up announcing my sudden affliction before falling onto the sleeping bag in a very unflattering way. One of my friends wore a balaclava and I woke up at one point in the night thinking I was about to be taken hostage by a member of the IRA as he unzipped the tent.

There was someone in our group that thought he was good at comedy. He kept telling us jokes, but his delivery was so bad that every joke fell flat and he came from a part of the UK where humour isn’t a strong point. He was oblivious to all this and seemed to be of the belief that he was a sparkling wit that every good camping weekend/party needed.

So I did end up laughing in the end, but not at his jokes 🙂

I spent 3 days in a tent with a member of the IRA, listening to bad jokes, falling over due to cramp in a confined space and being woken up by a never ending generator. This is why I choose hotels now instead.

Going back to the film…

It was dubbed over with bad accents, which does sometimes make this kind of film more unintentionally comical. The film caught me out with at least two unexpected jump scares.

I can’t say it was a good film as such, but for me it was. I don’t mind them being slightly bad, I know what I’m getting. In these films you know they are all going to get bumped off at some point, but you enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.

The things causing all the mayhem are two brothers who ended up being exposed to some sort of experimental warfare testing. It genetically mutated them, bestowing them with superhuman strength and blood lust. They reminded me of a much darker version of the family that lived in Fraggle Rock.

My favourite character was this teenage kid who had a crush on a girl that had a necklace on with some sort of Terminator type figure attached to it. He cottoned onto this and started doing Arnie impressions to impress her. Which worked and they vibed… bless.

I liked him because he had more personality than the rest of them and was awkwardly geeky, but that just made him more authentic.

In the end the two seemed quite attached to each other, in their own little way, but murder waits for no man and this was a Horror film so you can guess the rest.

I don’t know many drinking horns to give this. It’s an almost 5 on IMDB and was in the top 10 on Netflix for a while.

Objectively I would give it 2.5 drinking horns out of 5.

But for me, I lap this kind of thing up and accept the cheesy nature of it, which bumps it up another half a star to 3 out of 5.

Not a classic, but you know what you are getting and that makes it sorta fun if you’re into that kind of thing.

They did a part 2 of this film, which got much lower scores than its predecessor.

Absolutely pissed it down earlier, but I beat the snow and snuck (is snuck a word? it is now) a session in:

By the time the Summer rolls around I intend to be fitter than I’ve ever been in my life, which isn’t going to be an easy task but I’m mentally signed up for it.

I found one other person in the gym that actually runs like me. The T-Shirt is the big giveaway.

Everyone else walks…

What is that all about? Are people scared of running in 2026? 🙂

At first I couldn’t believe I rushed around seemingly unnecessarily to beat the snow that hadn’t arrived…

Until I looked out of the window less than an hour after I got back (lol)

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to work today. I tried digging my way out of the house to my car but it was all to no avail.”

“What did you do instead?”

“I just ate Hobnobs and milled around the living room.”

“Splendid choice.”

Let’s see what tomorrow brings. Bon Soir.