Tuesday 26th January 2016

Monday

And as certainly as toast lands butterside down on the carpet, Monday follows Sunday, and I am suffering with allergies. In trying to find a pattern in all this allergy malarkey means that I know think I am allergic to shaving; or the shaving gel I use. Or have been using recently. I could be wrong. Or mad. Or both. I have no idea what sets off the sneezing, sniffing and itching, but then if I am allergic to dust, then I must be. But I cannot deny that was fine on Sunday, and all allergic on Monday; you tell me!

In science news, if you want a perpetual motion machine, then in reference to the paragraph above, instead of buttering toast, butter the back of a cat. As you know, butter will always land on the floor, and a cat all always land on its feet, therefore, a cat with a buttered back will fall until just above the floor, at which point it will spin and spin forever.

Jelltex solves the global energy crisis with just a tub of butter and a spare cat.

But it is Monday morning. I have a full inbox to deal with, meetings to attend, and allergies to put up with. I take drugs before getting the booze out. Nothing quite ends a fine day with a three hour phone meeting, where you are the one who cannot see the documents being discussed due to a software failure that should not be able to happen. But it does, you know...

At lunchtime, inbetween tasks, I decide to get some fresh air, as it is a glorious day out there, with the sun clearly higher in the sky now, therefore casting less-long shadows. I go over the field to the pig's copse, where there are no pigs or piglets left, the final one having been taken to market since I last walked up here. I have, however, remembered to bring some old carrots with me, so walk down the dip where the gray filly observes me with disinterest. However, changes her tune when she sees my bag of moldy carrots.

Are those for me she says, trotting over, and no you cannot touch my nose or head, but I will let you feed carrots into my mouth until they have all gone. Yum. No, I said do not touch my nose, I am not interested nort hat kind of horse, however, give me all your carrots.

The bag empty I walk back home, snapping the vibrant colours, and in the sunshine it certainly felt like spring, warm enough to have my coat undone.

Back home there is the three hour meeting to get done, I only escape because of the time difference in Denmark and they need to lock up the offices. Phew.

We have cold stuffing and friend potatoes for dinner. Or that's what I decide to cook. Always good when you let your inner child cook. But it is why I don't let it go shopping any more of course.

There is the final episode of the history of Egypt to watch, which means I feel all the worse for not having visited it before now. So add it to the list.