There's an advert on television for fruit juice. A man goes to work through San Francisco and announces to his radio audience that 'Today os gonna be a great day'.

Well, I won't be buying any fruit juice, but yes, this morning feels very much like that. Except Swindon isn't on the Bay of Angels and there aren't any trams going up and down Victoria Hill any more. To be honest, Swindon really isn't all that exotic. Somehow I think choosing San Francisco for the advert was a better choice.

But hey, breathe in that cool spring air. There's a hazy clear sky and a genuibnely good mood. Even BFL has stopped grabbing everyones attention this morning (She's such a hypocrite. When she wants silence, moan moan whinge bicker. When she wants to talk, do you mind? She's talking).

No, I won't get sidetracked. Today is gonna be a great day. With or without fruit juice.

Last Night

It was dark as I ambled home from a last minute dash to th shops to resupply my rations. In the clear night sky, the moon was visible as a dark disc, lit on one side as a glowing arc. Almost in front of it a solitary airliner crossed the sky leaving a contrail, an odd sight in darkness, and the overall effect was surreal, like fifties sci-fi artwork.