Mudlark Jodi

Whodunnit: The lone trumper adjacent to my vicinity recently explained that she's not entirely 100% with his current direction, but apparently that's not his fault as she believes he's being effected by satanists, although she didn't manage to explain why this acceptance of satanism isn't his fault. Anyway, more importantly, I've now recreated this bullshit as a running in-joke to mock people who believe conspiracy nonsense. Shortly after The Satanism Explanation was aired, I was in an overlapping group of history fans. We were discussing ancient Macedonia and how Alexander destroyed all Philip II's work and left the Macedonians in a mess, so I said it wasn't Alexander's fault... it was satanists! And now every time somebody in our in-joke circles mentions one of our historical hate-figures someone will respond that his failings weren't his fault because he was being controlled by satanists. Possibly you have to be there to understand how funny the delivery of this running gag is, but I'm so lucky to know so many smart and witty women who make my world a better place.

Earworm danger: I accidentally ended up sharing transport with a group having a 1980s weekend complete with a best [worst] of the 80s soundtrack that I can only hope was intended ironically. Within a few minutes I was in danger of being earwormed by China in Your Hah-yah-yand, and Klingons on the Starboard Bow, warded off by the only marginally better Footloose.

Ferroequinology: I had a chat with the usual bunch of white, male, middle-aged "railway enthusiasts" who told me I shouldn't call myself a trainspotter. I replied that I am definitively a trainspotter because I like seeing specific types of locomotives (and signalling) and nobody should be shamed for innocent interests and enthusiasms. And the delightful upshot of this conversation was that I was invited to a 1980s themed disco that evening (yes, I do have a black belt in the art of talking with strangers on public transport). I was expecting a nostalgic school-disco sort of affair but the "railway enthusiasts" had actually organised a very good live band and a very drinkable bar run by a local micro brewery. My new besties for the evening all proved to be good dancers due to having grown up in the era of Northern Soul and Ska revival music. Although I did garner further evidence for my hypothesis that nobody, however skilled, can dance to Footloose without looking like a white boy from the mid-west at best and a spider on ketamine at worst. And the moral of this story is always to take a polite interest in other people's innocent enthusiasms because dancing the night away with a bunch of ageing gricers in a nice airy marquee is better than sitting alone in an overheated hotel room with the only ventilation being windows that open onto a very climbable roof.

Birbs
02-06 Double the winter maximum number of Jackdaws feeding on my lawn, from 12 to 24.
03-06 Two adorable, learner flyer, juvenile yellow-tinted Blue Tits following their busily generous parent around begging for food.

Today I re-proofed my old waterproof. Wash-in Nikwax will never be as good as a new waterproof but it costs £8 and a wash cycle instead of £80+ for a wasteful new jacket that would be less good than my old one re-proofed.

( Reasons to be cheerful, part.... :D )