Broken sleep. Always happens when I set an alarm. Off to da smoke for a couple of days for the Netuk1 conference. Now sat on the train waiting to set off. The seat next to me is reserved from Peterborough. Huh! My wits are not quick this morning. Need a cup of tea and a bacon roll to energise the brain.
Could have caught a later train I suppose as the conference is not until this afternoon but the timings of the direct options were not particularly good and I couldn’t be bothered to change at Newark.
I’ve stuck the news on. The Today Programme on Radio 4 has a suitably soporific effect. I can filter out the political crap. Will probs lose signal between Lincoln and Newark anyway. Bandwidth.
Tis a beeootiful day. Summertime and the weather is fine.I’m wearing the shirt I bought in Cape Town. Colourful. Classic African collarless design.
The growing season is in full swing. Just passed a deep green onion field. I like onions. Very fond of them actually. Didn’t bother growing any this year. Went for peas instead. Won’t have much of a crop. Might harvest them before we go to France.
The difference between peas and onions, apart from the obvious, is that you can buy perfectly good onions in the shops. You can’t buy very fresh peas. They have to be frozen. Don’t get me wrong I like frozen peas. They are one of my fave veggies. There is, however, nothing quite like freshly picked peas. From garden to plate in half an hour or less.
Now passing wheat fields. Uniform green. Not a weed in sight. Plenty of chemicals in that field.
In the news is a heatwave in Vegas Baby. Fifty degrees Celsius. Goodness me, too hot man. It’ll hit eighteen in London today. V comfortable.
The algorithm. Heard on the wireless. Our lives are governed by it. It is the new big brother.
The milkman came at three forty one.