Week 13: Sixty three
We’re at the fag end of summer now. The wind carries a hint of chill, and the nights are noticeably shorter. I’ve had a quiet week.
Little E and I tried to catch up on our geocaching challenge this week and bumped this years haul up to sixty three. Still a way to go, but we might just bag the century after all.
My favourite shirt, which has been under my careful ownership for at least a decade, threw in the towel this week and headed off for retirement. Whilst in mourning, I enjoyed reading Ben reflect on the shirt that he has owned for 26 years. Being from from Yorkshire, I would rather pluck my eyeballs out with teaspoons than spend £75 on a single item of clothing. But then again, if I had, maybe I would still have my favourite shirt.
I can’t believe I’ve managed to do this for thirteen weeks straight.
From the net:
Some things I enjoyed reading this week:
London’s abandoned underground – in pictures [Guardian]
Nobody likes wasps. Nobody. Except Dr Gavin Broad.
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