But first, a cautionary tale - rocks can be slippery when wet. Out with the dogs on Monday morning, as usual, and it was chucking it down, as usual. There is a stile into the field near us, which I go over twice a day, every day. There are rocks either side of the stile, normally providing a sturdy path, and given little thought. On this fatal day, however μ, the coefficient of friction, was obviously considerably sub-optimum for reliable traction. Down I went, possibly the most painful thing that has happened to me since, and I still don't know how it happened, I got myself tangled up with my bicycle frame whilst descending the South Downs rather fast. Anyway, it could have been worse, could have been life-changing had I been less lucky, but as it is I have a backside the colour of a baboon's and pains in my back which make gardening difficult...into each life a little rain must fall.
Oh, yes, ants...idling in the conservatory, unable to do any gardening - see above - I was surprised to see a large squadron, I would say swarm, but apparently that is racist, of ants heading in my direction. Normally, I take a benign view towards other life on this planet, if it leaves me alone, I am happy to reciprocate. I addressed the advancing horde and told them they were not wanted, that they must leave, and that would be the end of the matter. I think the leader muttered something about 'all property is theft', so desperate measures will be taken.
And finally, cue for a song...Blue Moon
