Every so often in your life there's a dim awareness that you're supoosed to do something. I find this usually occurs in that drowsy state when your concious mind is struggling to make itself heard against the instinct to stay in bed and sleep some more.

Eventually it dawned on me that morning had broken. Does that mean I might have to get out of bed? Yep. That's the way the world works. Or not, if you're unemployed. As Kenny's dad from South Park wryly observed, "When you're unemployed weekends lose all meaning". I can see his point. I woke up yesterday morning completely unable to recall which day it was.

Today however it's monday, and since the rest of the world is getting on with earning a living, it means I get dragged into it one way or another. Who said I can't conform? All I have to do is get of bed. That way I can find out which day it is and survive until the next one.

Back To Nature

I was watching a report about Chernobyl on Russia Today. Local officials have suspended tour operators from showing visitors around the abandoned town due to discepancies in accounts. That's a shame, because it looked like a fascinating place to see. The tour guide said that people had various reasons to go there, wanting to experience a post apocalyptic vision, or simply to revisit the soviet era.

A few days ago I took a few photographs over the fence surrounding the old college site. Passing that way yesterday morning (whatever day that was) I noticed all the trees and bushes growing between the brick wall and the white fence have been cut down, presumably so the security guards can see people climbing over to gain access. I guess I was the cause of that initiative. What next? Searchlights? Machine gun towers? Just what is going on in there?

By happy coincidence I was passing the entrance when some official was driving his car in, so I got a glance along the road that leads through the college site. And what a sight! It might not be as close to nature as Chernobyl has become, but the sense of abandonment I saw was stunning. Detritus everywhere, foliage sprouting from every nook and cranny, and quite unlike the way it looked when I was studying engineering there in my mispent youth.

Luckily I didn't have my camera with me. The guards might have released the hounds otherwise.

Another Mustang Bites The Dust

The news was playing in the background. Yet more in-depth analysis of armed resistance in Libya had become a little boring, so I kind of got on with other things. Then I heard the announcer mention that a world war two aeroplane had crashed. Oh no. Not another priceless relic smashed to bits? It did occur to me though that crashes of aeroplanes from that era can be very fatal indeed, and I hoped that like the previous loss of a Mustang at Duxford, the pilot had survived.

As most of us now know, this Mustang was a modified racer. I watched the footage for signs of what had caused the accident but to my frustration all I saw was images of emergency vehicles rushing past traffic queues. Yesterday though the news people had found an amateur video that showed the Mustang pulling up, winging over, and descending extremely rapidly nose first into the ground.

As yet I don't know why this accident happened to the 74 year old pilot. Whilst this might sound a bit pointless, for the sake of his honour as a flyer I hope he was a victim of circumstance than someone who did something completely stupid.