Fifty thousand people have signed up to a ‘joke’ Facebook event with the aim of mass-storming Area 51. I’m worried that a proportion of these people are not joking.
I’m still shocked at how much I have been spending on food. I weighed myself on Monday to cement the general feeling I have of disappointment with myself.
We’re in that phase of the year where we have not yet acclimatised to the weather, so we spend a good portion of our time complaining that it’s too hot, too dry and that spring was too short. We spent the preceding six months complaining that it was too cold, too wet and that winter was too long. If we’re not talking about Brexit, we’re talking about the weather.
I really like the North American word ‘hike’. I don’t think we have an equivalent in British English. We use ‘walk’ to define any length of journey by foot. It could equally mean a quick walk to the shops, or a walk from Lands End to John o’ Groats. A hike sounds like a proper walk. Hills climbed. Energy expended. Maps read. Like the one so beautifully described this week by Neil Steinberg. A walk is just a.. walk.
I have little else to say this week – except please don’t go on any unnecessary journeys to top-secret military bases.