What shall I do? I've finished my daily business at the library, had my lunch, and there's nothing worth watching on television for the next couple of hours. Aww what the heck, I'll take a walk around Lawns, a local 'open space', for a bit of fresh air.

For a while I sat on the ornamental steps that mark the end of the formal grounds and overlook the low lying suburbs beyond the grassy meadow that sloped away from me. Maybe it isn't the most stiring view to be had in the area, but on a pleasant day it's good enough. So I sat there with my mind wandering, watching the trees bend in the light breeze that carried the scattered clouds on their way.

My reverie was disturbed by the sound of an aero-engine. Way off in the distance, somewhere just beyond the southeastern edge of Swindon, a light aeroplane was performing aerobatics. I could hear the engine rising in tone as the plane gathered speed in a shallow dive. There he goes, up and over in a loop. It's been a long time since I've sat in an aeroplane doing that.

My thoughts drifted away to thiose heady and fearful days of 1940. I know, but it's something that strikes very deep in the heart of the English psyche. For a while I imagined squadrons of fighters and bombers crossing the sky in front of me, a collective rumble of pistons and propellors on their way to do battle with an implacable enemy. There was actually plenty of activity in the area duringt WW2. Vickers had a factory way off to my left. There was an operational maintenance unit way off to my right, turning newly built aircraft into military weapons. An operational airfield to the north, and a training airfield to the south. None retain their former purpose, most having been returned to agricultural land.

There he goes again, gaining speed in a shallow dive, his engine rising in tone enthusiastically. Think I'll sit here a while and enjoy the show.

We're Here To Help

The gas company guy answering the telephone went from disinterested boredom to a sudden fright. At the threat of my demand to curtail the service, he went to some length to persuade me not to do that. "We're here to help" He assured me. Oh? Really? Something tells me his interest is about quotas, targets, and my payments.

She Said Hello?

The Malignant Pixie said hello to me yesterday morning. I passed her at the bottom of the hill, and to be honest, I didn't realise she was there. Good grief, that's the friendliest she's been toward me ever..