Tuesday, September 04, 2007

IMGP2146Does anyone know how to make jam? Because I have pints of damsons rotting rapidly. I, or rather this household, also seem have enough sugar stashed away to induced widespread depression in all the local ant nests through the Heruclean, if not Sisyphean, scale of potential pilfering. And yet still it causes chaos when the SIL wants a little bit of sugar in her tea (or her rootjoose).

So other than reining in damson trees, which it turns out is the reason no one's done anything about the bindweed rampaging across them, recent life seems to have been a succession of not going to things while discovering things I have to go to. One of which involves either staring blankly at someone as they discuss something known by the German word for Scottish or staring mildly less blankly at the ground as they do. It also seems to involve an awful of people* asking repeatedly "where?" as well as me looking at a map and asking why they run out of towns.

* Spot the missing "lot", but I quite like the idea that the collective noun for people is an awful. Apt.

So, er, basically, rather than go somewhere with one set of people, I'm now going somewhere vaguely near with another set of people around a similar time. Expect pictures of mist and mossily damp fir trunks (and apparently a World Heritage Site. Cue news item on the irreparable damage caused to a UNESCO protected building through inept dancing).

Although I've just checked and the declined first expedition would have been based 124 miles away from the soon to be delisted place, although that's as the Google drives, involving wide diversions round curiously blank or oddly stripy parts of the map (Google's draggable via option is fun in this part of the world, as the poor thing can't cope with there only being one road and much of the area being terra inaccessia. I can nearly write my name with it). 125 miles probably is quite a long way, but it's all so far off it scarcely registers; to me Birmingham's the gateway to the dragonlands.

Think that better be it as I have mouldering fruit to attend. Expect a burning smell imminently.


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