Once again Swindon has returned to it's natural state and raindrops are splattering against the library window. As it happens, the library is very quiet this morning. Partly I suspect because the loudies aren't interested in going there when it rains, but the mood is very subdued anyway. I can't see any reason for that, but it's fine with me.

Yesterday Punch & Judy were at their usual shenanigans. In fairness, they weren't as loud as they have been in the past, so it was an intrusive level of noise rather than excessive. Still not comfortable to ive with though.

Because peace and quiet is conducive to my work on the computer, I now tend to stay up late into the night working on one thing or another. The only intrusion then is the occaisional male display in the street, which I generally ignore, secure in the knowledge they'll fall over if they stop in one place for too long. A late night is no problem. After all, there's only the odd day when I have to worry about getting up early.

Last night, at around half past three, my concentration had ebbed to the point where going to bed was finally necessary. Ah well. it's been a productive night. Can't complain. Unfortunately on my way to the bedroom I stubbed my toe and knocked things over. A great dull thud as something heavy fell onto the landing.

Groan. Punch won't like that. Everything I do is some sort of attack on his territorial mastery. That's the problem with him. He's so wound up by hormones and east european machoism he just can't resist treating absolutely everything as a competition in which he has be top dog. It gets a bit depressing to deal with.

Sure enough, when he was leaving for work, there was a dull thud on something metallic outside, loud enough to wake me (briefly). The boy is an idiot. Apology refused.

Things Beyond My Back Yard

Swindon has always had a problem with the outside world. Historically the town was isolated on the north edge of the Marlborough Downs, and only the arrival of canals and railways opened the place up. Avebury was only just down the road and the stone circle there wasn't discovered until 1649, when John Aubrey stumbled across it hunting foxes. That's how wild and remote the region was.

It seems the modern descendants of Swindon Man have the same attitude. But enough criticism. let's throw off the yoke of myopic mentality and look at the news concerning the big wide world out there. Be brave, Caldrail.

Woman gives birth to own grandson

It certainly is a strange forbidding world out there.

Woman just eats crisps

That might be because she can't afford anything else. Another headline tells us that despite measures the cost of living is rising inexorably in Britain. And I need a news headline to tell me that?

Millions of faulty gas meters

Well there you go then. Fix her gas meter and she'll be able to afford food again. Fix mine and I'll have hot water and heating the next time we have a cold snap. It does make you think though. I've just endured the worst winter in decades with hardly any heating. No, really. All those television programmes by Ray Mears haven't gone to waste. I'd like to credit Bear Grylls too, but clambering all over the urban landscape the way he does will probably get me arrested if I don't die of exhaustion first.