caldrail

There's been plenty of reminders in the news that a six ton satellite is about to crash toward Earth as the laws of gravity overcome millions of dollars worth of investment in orbital technology. No-one knows exactly where it's coming down, or exactly when. Apparently my chances of being hit by lumps of melted NASA hardware are something like 1 in 3200. Given that a satellite of this size crashes to Earth every year, that does make my future look little better than standing at the target end of a shooting range used by blind people. Thing is though.. If satellites as big as double decker buses crash every year, why is this the first one we've been told about? Is it no coincidence that Facebook is receiving a facelift? Are we to believe that cloud gaming began at the same time this satellite crashed as being a mere accident? Or that a hiolidy jet lands in the wrong airport? Or that the projected state of Palestine is being taking seriously for the first time? Or maybe NASA is out to get me for making lame jokes? Way Too Fast I note with something of a groan that scientists have measured a neutrino, a tiny sub-atomic particle, as travelling a teeny bit faster than light. By now the internet pundits are probably licking their lips with forum posts claiming that science is wrong, that God has given us a sign, that James T Kirk could become a reality in the next century, and that salt sucking alien monsters will thrive in the worlds drier hotter climate. There's many possibilities. One is that the clocks were not perfectly synchronised, or that the curvature of the Earth has distorted the calculation of a particle that travels through solid substances without much difficulty in a straight line, or simply that this neutrino is a very naughty particle and must be spanked severely. i hope this isn't going to be another 'cold fusion' episode. Well Intended Reminders On my way here I stopped at a pedestrian crossing and pushed the button. At this particular spot it's wise not to step across the road if it looks clear, because the blind bend often has cars piling around it at a fair old speed. Sure enough a hot hatch growled into view. I was a bit startled by the sudden braking, and noting that the vehicle had stopped and that someone else was crossing the road from the other side, I decided to step across. It turns out the car had braked to avoid the pedestrian and the lights weren't in my favour. Oh well. At least the Highway Code says I have right of way if traffic is stationary. Unfortunately the driver hadn't read that bit. Finally losing his patience, he swerved around me and accelerated away with a loud reminder to look next time, which whilst understandable, isn't going to impress the police at all. So read the Highway Code next time, you dozy wazzock!

Constantine is, perhaps understandably, eulogised by typical christian thinking whereas there's plenty of reasons to see him as anything else than laudable. Anyone who puts Constantine into context is doing just fine in my book.

There was a recent newspaper report of evidence for moorish troops stationed at Hadrians Wall.

When an organisation says something will have minimal impact, what they mean is that they haven't got the time, money, or inclination to do anything about it.

Way back when I was very young I had a fascination for dinosaurs. Time and again I would leaf through books showing artists impressions of lost worlds, painted images, rather than the photoreal imaging that is increasingly common in childrens books today. Back then dinosaurs were an object of curiosity but unfashionable. Kids generally preferred football. Not me. In my imagination I walked among the swamps andf orests of the Jurassic world. These dinosaurs are immensely popular. And to underline the point, last night I was bombarded with television programs about them. Planet Dinosaur, the latest BBC 3D animation fest, told me about the chinese fossils, ranging from small semi-birds to violent carnivorous turkeys weighing a ton and a half. How To Build A Dinosaur showed me the expense and expertise of recreating dinosaurs for chasing museum security guards. Extinct showed me how even in the last few decades, our 'Golden Age' of fossil finds has found many times more new speices and even more detailed investigation into colour, form, lifestyle, and behaviour. Enough. My primitive 1960's brain can take in no more information. The thing is though when I learned about dinosaurs as a child they were no more than monstrous lizards, ferocious carnivores and huge grazers wallowing in deep swamps. As we learn more about these extraordinary creatures, it dawns on me how alien and bizarre they're becoming. Yet the toy dinosaurs on sale at my local supermarket haven't changed a bit. The truth is that like all those strange supernatural hazards of past ages, we want them to be ferocious monsters. Not Quite Extinct Yet By now most of you will know that birds are the modern descendants of the dinosaur breed, and increasingly researchers are using birds as a guide to what the dinosaurs actually were. Generally speaking though birds don't do anyone any harm, apart from muggijng old age pensioners for bread crumbs in the local park. Only Alfred Hitchcock could make birds scary, though I have to admit watching an angry swan cross the lake toward me at full attack speed was a bit hair raising, though in fairness the swan was annoyed at some upstart goose and wanted to beat him up. Just of late though there's been a lot of reported shark attacks. Sharks are another great survivor. They've been around since before the dinosaurs, and only four million years ago a giant shark finally died out. It's a funny thing though. In popular culture sharks are depicted as ruthless and cold blooded killers. In some respects they are. But the sailors of those tall wooden ships in swashbuckling days never mention them. With the british Navy sinking every suspicious vessel on the seven seas in a hail of gunpowder smoke, you'd think sharks would merit some form of threat. Maybe the sharks are trying to find something to eat? With trawlers reducing fish stocks around the world perhaps sharks are getting so hungry they have no choice but to eat us instead. Or perhaps they've gotten fed up of all the trash we throw overboard? Waiting For The Big One After all the fuss I made about the extent of borrowing the Labour Government did when they were in power, it would be a litle hypocritical to ignore the fact that our current coalition government has borrowed at a heavier rate. We have the deputy prime minister telling us yet again that life is going to get tough. Is Britain going through it's Cretaceous Period, struggling with an increasingly difficult financial enviroment and in danger of rapid extinction from some big european asteroid? At any rate, we now have clear evidence that the British Politician is not yet an endangered species. Strikes me though they survive because we feed them breadcrumbs or else.

You see, those last two replies are exactly what I mean. The issue of loss and unrealised promise is not contested. I agree with you both. My point was the motive that underlies that sentiment. Think about it. If for instance he'd died a hero in battle, we would still mourn his passing, but instead of a 'meaningless loss' his death would have taken on a meaning deeply entrenched in our psyche. It would be.. Well, maybe not acceptable as such, but we could rationalise and accept his passing so much easier. Don't forget, the man was a successful actor albeit with an unintentionally short career.

Since when were my views extreme? All I've ever suggested is that the Romans did not invent the twenty first century. Whatever the Romans did for us was thrown in the bin within a century of their military withdrawal. And as for medical assistane, it would be as well to realise there was no formal training for medics whatsoever. Any idiot could call himself a physician in ancient times and set up shop. I suspect a great many did, some of them operating at a low level quack healer rather than the skilled surgeon people want to believe in. Of course the legions felt a need to keep their men fit and healthy. Viralty was admired in Roman culture to begin with, along with martial virtue. The last thing they wanted was six thousand malingerering poofters sitting in beds with the sniffles at public expense. That they made some official attempt to provide healthcare is noteworthy but as I've already pointed out, describing the Roman world in our terms does lend itself to accurate reporting, nor does it encourage the issue of context, and basically you end up describing the world you know rather than the one you want to discover.

Yesterday I'd arranged to meet DW for a photo-shoot in town. The weather map last night showed rain crossing the country and I had images in my mind of being immortalised as a miserable drowned rat. As it happens the weather wasn't too bad, being merely overcast. With my business for the day seen to I had some time on my hands. Quite a lot of it So I sat down outside the library and watched the world go by. What is this life if we have no time to sit and doss? All of a sudden I realised DW was emerging from the nearby cafe. That was a suprise. I hadn't expected him to turn up on time, never mind an hour early. He looked mystified. "Are you seriously going to sit there for another hour?" He asked. Mate - I'm unemployed. What did you think I was going to do? Being Seen This wasn't the first time I'd done a photo shoot by any means. Having been in the music business for many years the need to be publicised usually got the better of me sooner or later. DW asked if I was okay about doing something unusual in public. Erm... Like what? I'm not stripping naked mate. He'd chosen that part of town to get a sense of activity and life into the photos as the public walk by. I guess a lot of people might find that sort of thing intimidating, posing for photos in a busy public thoroughfare, because let's face it, inevitably you look ridiculous. Some members of the public thought I might be some kind of nut. No comments please. Actually I'm not botherd. I've performed in public since I was a little kid. Just another gig really. So for a fun hour I had my picture taken. It's a strange thing to see yourself in a photograph sometimes. Normally I only gaze wearily at a face in the mirror every morning and I think my brain is trying to con me into believing I'm still twenty one. In the photographs I look like Moses. All I need to do is grow my hair a bit and Ian McKellen will never get the chance of playing an old wizard in feature films ever again. Inevitable The Lib-Dem conference is in full swing and they want to be the greenest party ever. For some reason that doesn't fill me with joy. In their enthusiasm to inspire ours, they tell us that cutting carbon is essential for human survival. Actually that's rubbish. Cutting carbon won't make that much difference. With populations expanding everywhere it's inevitable that at some future point there really will be starvation on a colossal scale. It's a law of supply and demand that nature is very strict on. Less carbon does not equal more food. Never mind. At least the low carbon economy will boost growth. Not sure why that should be, because inevitably enforcing restrictions raises costs and reduces spending. In any case the while the Lib-Dems talk about it the rest of the world is slowly overtaking them. I see on the news that the first hydrogen refuelling station has opened in Swindon. That's inevitable too, with petrochemicals taxed several times over and batteries just as incredibly expensive as they always were. It does beg the question though who actually owns a hydrogen powered in Swindon.? Anyone? No? Let The Buyer Beware I know that shops are struggling these days but heck - avoid music shops at all costs. I made the mistake of asking for some replacement locknuts yesterday, little nuts and bolts that aren't essential for an electric guitar but certainly help keep it in tune. Fifteen pounds they charged me. Fifteen quid! The guy told me he only orders japanese parts, not the rubbish chinese ones. What a rip off. I daresay he was very pleased with himself having cost me a weeks food. I wonder if he realises how much trade that's going to cost him?

With a proliferation of middle eastern cults you might think so. However, I would point out that many of these cults did not appeal to educated classes. One in particular was popular among rural slaves. Notice also that verbal traditions are far more important in ancient times and since the Romans weren't shy of accusations of witchcraft, even in pre-christian times, you wouldn't expect such damning evidence to be lying around.

Yeah - I knew someone would. Try this for size... However, in considering medicine in Roman Britain it is crucial not to become blinkered by a modern perspective: health and health care must always be seen in context... ...By adopting a twenty first century view it is also all too easy to dismiss or denigrate some aspects of ancient medicine and yet to overplay others significantly. How can we be confident that a bronze instrument was actually a surgical tool? Do acqueducts, drains, and health houses really reflect a concern for public health? Should we so easily dismiss dream therapy and other apparently bizarre treatments as being ineffective in the context of Roman Britain? Introduction - Medicine and Health Care In Roman Britain (Nicholas Summerton)

Unsightly and actually sometimes dangerous. Blades come off occaisionally. I'm not too concerned with birds hitting these things - they hit everything sooner or later, including cars, aeroplanes, and their own reflection in a window - but I just don't like them. It's an unreasonable bitter hatred I suppose. Don't care. Turbines are 'orrible nasty things and I'm slowly turning into a raging NIMBY.

You know what? After being accused of leading a fantasy life, I have to speak out. Sorry, but it's real. I really am here. And just to prove how lame my life can be, I wish to describe the highlights of yesterday... 1 - A woman asks me for assistance. That was unexpected. The reason was of course Microsoft Excel, the cause of more lost hair and failed interviews than anything else known to mankind. Don't get me wrong, my excel skills are best described as 'Almost', yet I still know more about this secret arcane program than your typical library goer. Thing is though... How did she know? How could she possibly have known that I've studied excelmancy in my spare time? 2 - Another woman plays video too loud. I've no idea what it was. My first thought was that it was a news report but at times it sounded suspiciously like a sermon, brought to you by the miracle of the internet. Who needs Jesus when you have telecommunications technology? I asked her to down it down but she just smiled at me. Maybe she didn't understand english? Or did she not know how to control this miraculous device that displayed the sermon on the full colour flat screen 1280x1024 monitor before her? 3 - Youth cracks his knuckles. It happens now and then. Some kid sits down to watch a music video and cracks his knuckles for something to do with that part of his brain that's waiting for the rap track to finish. Unusually though this kid has learned how to crack his knuckles at fifteen decibels louder than anyone else. Every time he did that it echoed around the quietened room. A part of me wishes that he'll suffer some ailment caused by continual cracking of the knuckles, like RKSS (Repetitive Knuckle Stress Syndrome) but I can't wait that long. That would have been it, but at the last moment, I decided to go for a walk around the local park, and who should I bump into?.... Bird Watching Yes, it was DW, our intrepid reporter. Bet you never saw that one coming. Well he decided to tag along and we discussed the finer points of philosophy and practice for the modern comedian, dinosaur nests, and in-depth analysis of bird species inhabiting the lake. No really, he knows about birds. Feathered ones. I now know those aggressive seabirds are Black Headed Gulls. They don't seem to very black headed to me. "That" DW assured me, "Is because black is out of season." Well there you go. Gulls can be fashionable too. Unfortunately we humans can only emulate their sense of colour and variety. In the case of one young lady walking by, badly. She wore black see-through leggings which revealed her underwear beneath. That was.. Erm... Interesting.... Sorry... What were you saying? Oh yes, the gulls.

Try Celebrity Deathmatch. Its a animated series showing spoof fights to the death between celebs. Gory stuff and completely stupid. Actually it's not that funny either. Okay, maybe it isn't worth watching after all...

I considered it necessary, because inevitably when features of a site are described in modern terms, there's an immediate reaction in readers that goes beyond that point. I'm not disputing these features exist - I'm pointing out that it's unwise to draw conclusions from them without corrobrative evidence.

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.

That's exactly the assumptive frame of mind I'm warning against. This hospital would in all likeliehood be used for illness or minor injury - in other words, keeping legionaries fit for battle rather than patching them up afterward. Furthermore, the chances of severely wounded men making it back to camp without death from shock, bloodloss, or infection is not good. If the Romans lost the battle, this was virtually impossible. As regards the apparent modernity of the instruments, remember that these are tools and whilst I agree they were intended for a similar purpose, there is no guarantee the Romans used them for extacly the same objective. In other words, they may have done certain things to affect health care, but not necessarily in the same order or purpose that we do today. Also, we know that treatments prescribed for aiolments often had no actual curative strength. Indeed, some of them were more likely to cause harm. What we have to be aware of is that sophistication in Roman medicine was not uniform at all. Be aware that overall the Romans had little idea of hygiene other than a social custom. The connection beyween conditions and infection was not something that was really understood until recent times and I seriously doubt the Romans did either, other than an empirical realisation that clean conditions appeared to be more condicuve to heath, but then they would have thought that anyway due to the idea that cleanliness was a human condition to be applauded. Note that legionaries, despite being of various origin and of rough disposition, were encouraged to bathe as much as their betters. In fact, it could be argued that medics (being educated men) were probably keen to create clean conditions within the hiospital merely to suit themselves. It must also be realised that medics in the legion were invariably greeks (I don't know of any exceptions) and this would have been the skill that gave them immunes status. That does not guarantee that the greek legionary actually knew anything. As long as he could convince his seniors of his knowledge then he got off manual labour, and given the hospital was normally fairly empty anyway whilst good health was the norm in peacetime, it was an easy assignment. Educated medics like Galen were an exception, and although his knowledge was well ahead of his time, it served the medic no good at all to teach those skills to all and sundry. The Romans earned a living from expertise after all. Only in certain cases where the common good was emphasised - such as combat skills - was there establisjed means of teaching skills to others freely.

I would urge caution in gettin g carried away with the apparent modern-ism of this kind of thing. It is true the Romans had learned a thing or two about treating injuries, but if you look at what they actually did many of their methods were just as painful or just plain wrong as anyone elses. The trouble, as always, is that we look for things we recognise and as soon as we spot anything with a modern parallel, people make all sorts of assumptions. Furthermore, it must be pointed out that the only legionaries who got treated in a hospital of this kind were those that made it there. Plenty of wounded men never left the battlefield, and the provision of evacuating men wounded in melee was pretty well non-existent.

I've always said that you can tell a lot about someone by the way they enter a room. DW, our intrepid reporter for the online wiltshire magazine, always seems to enter a room without having to open the door. That's quite a classy entry and frankly I'm envious. My personal battles with doors are the stuff of legend. It turns out that DW has just interviewed a celebrity for his website. I've never heard of her before but I 'm sure she's very famous. Yet no sooner had I poured scorn on his latest showbizz wheeze than a real actress stormed through the door pretending to be angry with him. She's very good. Had me convinced. Apparently this lady has done parts for Casualty and Father Ted. "Have you seen Father Ted?" DW asked me. Not really... I would have remembered. Anyhow we got talking and would you believe it? She's invited me to an evening of intellectual group discussion on the finer points of media and theatre. Can't wait. Deal of the Century All of a sudden Young L suggested that he'd thought of a great business idea. DW, never slow to spot an opportunity to make money, looked a bit quizzical but nonetheless replied "Okay, let's hear your business plan." "I haven't got a business plan." Young L responded, unaware that even with business plans prepared in advance, competitors of Dragons Den still get mauled for being useless wazzocks. "No, no hear me out..." Young L's appeal for mercy succeeded. With a deep breath DW awaited the Deal of the Century. It turns out Young L plays for a football team that are planning to head out to Sweden if they can find sponsorship. I think the idea is that L's team teach the swedish how football should be played. For a mere seven thousand pounds, the team will have magazine advertising on their backs in front of lots of swedish people. "We're a wiltshire magazine." Replied a completely baffled DW. "Why on earth would Switzerland..." Sweden, I reminded him. "Sweden... Yeah.. Always get those two countries mixed up. Why on earth would Sweden be interested in a wiltshire magazine? How would I get my seven thousand pounds back?" "No no no" Young L persisted with admirable enthusiasm, clearly hoping that his trip to Sweden would soon become a reality. Gradually he realised that he was going to get a little battered by jibes and humourous dismissals. No... Too late... Young L is goining to get mauled and he hasn't even applied to go on Dragons Den. Worse still, although DW is pulling his business arms and legs off, DW is also the guy who only minutes before stopped me from squishing an insect. You can tell a lot about people by the way they let things go through the door. Close... But No Cigar The burglars were out and about in the small hours this morning. Just before four o'clock one scavenging good-for-nothing tried to open my back window. Tell you what, Mr Burglar, if you're reading this leave your name and address - I'll get back to you and we'll sort something out. Can't promise a sponsored tour of Sweden, but I think we can manage a stay in one of Her Majesties hotels if you want.

Oh yeah, I know where you're coming from. All I have to do is hear Black Velvet by Alannah Myles and I'm back in the nineties, driving an open top car in bright sunshine with the world falling at my feet (please don't misunderstand what I mean!). Well, it felt that way at the time. Sleepy Satellite by Tasmin Archer has a similar effect on me. Both songs make me remember good times.

Interesting stuff but there's a part of me that's a bit uneasy with establishing prices. What we should realise is that the Romans did not control prices in the same we are accustomed to today. I know that from time to time laws limited the price for specific goods and services, but essentially prices were open to negotiation. After all, with such an emphasis on wealth and a cut-throat commercial sphere, it's not unreasonable that caveat emptormeant what it said. At best then the costs mentioned should be regarded as evidence for the associated period.

Now it's official - Privacy is dead. Get used to it. I learned that from Russia Today yesterday. That comes as something of a suprise since after decades of Cold War fiction I had no idea Russia had any privacy at all. So this is a cheery hello to all those secret agents in Russia who are currently reading my blog. Hi guys. Euro Wobbles Finacial experts (is there such a thing?) are predicting the current economic woes of the eurozone will continue for decades. Given the shakey record of some members, it hardly needed a Masters Degree in Finacial Disasters to figure that out. I also notice that Frabnce and Germany are still determined to create their euopean empire as they persuade the EU not to start evicting the worst debt ridden countries. I must admit to a some smugness over these economic difficulties. Some time ago I predicted the Euro would wobble. The problem with a United Europe is that it isn't united. It's a bunch of different established nations being persuaded to sign up for a single government. My predictions also included the strife of independence struggles to come in some future time, but of course, who would have predicted that the European Union would struggle so hard to work? Lost Money Also struggling to work is our local community internet. There's been quite a scandal as the company who were setting up the free WiFi service didn't, and cost the council oodles of cash. The council are of course confident the cash will be restored to them and now plans to try again with a different provider, only this time we will all pay for the service. I thought we were paying for it? Isn't that what Council Tax is about? Lost In Libya I see that David Cameron, our glorious leader, is heading to Libya for talks with the new transitional council. Well good luck on that, and I hope someone finds him afterward. I also notice that with mobile phone technology making it easy to locate individuals around the planet, some experts are questioning why no-one knows where gaddafi is. Come on guys, get real, he doesn't know where he is. Pub Of The Year A news item this morning tells us which pub is named as the Best In Britain. I didn't know there were any left open. Most of them in Swindon seem to be closing and I hear one Swindon tavern, built 105 years ago, is to be demolished for a frozen food outlet. Sounds like good idea for summer nights out. Maybe not so fun during winter, but at least you won't starve if the snow drifts trap you inside.

With so much done yesterday I decided to relax my job seeking and take advantage of a break in the blustery winds and showers. It's been a while since I took a hike out into the country and believe me, I was stunned by how unfit I've become. By the time I'd trudged up the hill where I live I was sweating and breathing deeply. Not good. Not good at all. As I crossed the polo ground, the grass wet with dew, I encounterd the morning dog walking shift. My suspicions about how long I'd been avoiding this spare time activity was that I didn't recognise any of the dogs, or their masters, which on the plus side meant I had an excuse for a bit of sopcialising with the young pretty female owners. Nice dog you have there. We had one like that once. Putty in my hands.... Well, I like to think so. The owner was a nice lady too. Dogs Here And There This is of course the windy season in the southwest of England. As a result, you should have seen the library foyer the other day. Leaves everywhere, right into the interior of the building. It looked pretty cool as it happens. Oddly enough though the trees in the countryside appear to be made of sterner stuff. Not many leaves lying around, and few others are turning a subdued shade of yellow or brown. Not enough to leaves to interest the local dogs yet, so they made do with me. After an amicable encounter with a playful dalmation, I was ambushed by a black labrador that darted out of the bushes right in front of me. I hope the owner has fed this one. It made a truncated growl as it came to a stop, then turned into a family pet again. Further done the path I encountered a dog I did recognise. A large black shag-pile lurcher, az mean tempered canine that never has really like me at all. It still doesn't. As the owner giggled at her aggressive dogs successful attempt to scare me witless, I backed off the path and... Oh.... The dog stopped snarling and looked at me as if to say "That's better. This path is mine, smellypants" before bounding off happy as larry. Is he gone? Yes? I stepped back on the path. to continue my hike and heard the owner call the dogs name in a desperate and generally pointless attempt to stop her dog from returning. I'm sorry, I'll step off the path again. Is that okay now? Squeezing Them In In a report in todays news headlines new houses are getting smaller and smaller. The latest are averaging less than the desirable minimum living space. Sort of like a dog kennel with running water laid on I guess. At least our pets get their garden homes for free, or maybe the odd spot of security work, or perhaps lifting the odd paw to amuse the owners. I'll bet the people who buy these new dog kennels will be paying a bit more than that. Going To The Dogs In the news I see the country is set for widespread strikes later this year. Not sure why everyone is unhappy. Plenty of food, clothing, gas, electricity, petrol, and dogfood. Plenty of shops left to buy them in. They've just opened a new shopping mall in London and everyone rushed in like nutters, determined to spend every last penny on the first thing they can grab hold of. But that's the problem. We're down to our last pennies. So naturally we members of the public blame our democratically elected glorious leaders. On the other hand, maybe the lack of pennies means we can't afford to anything else?

Happy birthday too Neph

I'm reminded of an old Dave Allen joke. It's a bit politically incorrect, but what the hey... An englishman, an arab, and a jew are sat on a bus. A fly buzzes around the englishman and he shoos it away muttering about the standard of cleanliness on middle eastern public transport. The fly heads over to the arab. He watches it intently, then grabs the thing, chewing on it and enjoying the extra protein. Another fly buzzes around the jew. He watches it intently, then grabs the thing before turning to the arab and asking "You want to buy a fly?"

Yes, that often ends in a fight too, doesn't it?