Bless Those Boffins In Cambridge

I miss my afternoon naps.

Work is the curse of the thinking classes, as you know, and now that I'm gainfully employed again, I'm not getting enough snoozes in. This is, as the boffins in Cambridge would say, a Fact. 

Right now, it's Saturday morning, and I'm putting together this blog entry so that I can schedule it to post automatically on Sunday afternoon. 

And what will I be doing on Sunday afternoon after a big dinner?

I think you know.  

I was just on my way home from work when I spotted this bizarre cloud formation. It almost looks like a tube? I didn't see anything in the news about being invaded by aliens. But if we were, they'd probably arrive like this.

And facing the other way, oddly fluffy clouds. No processing here, they really did look this smudged. Some days, you just get lucky. I think that was what the guy in the car behind was trying to tell me, anyway.

I thought this view of Cambridge merely looked interesting, but a friend (hey Dazza!) later commented that it looked like a train: wheels, smoke stack, driver's van. Can you see it? So much for Art.

Close to the office, I stood in the middle of a field at lunchtime to take this. Nobody was at all surprised.

In Woburn, on the way home from seeing Jaco Roth (my smarter, slimmer brother), the deer were sweeping majestically across the plain. Yes, just like they do in Torquay. I lost count of the points on this lad's antlers, but I'm sure a hunter could tell me at a glance.

And when they weren't sweeping, they were nibbling....

... sometimes they nibbled in black and white, too.

It really must be a wonderful view from the local Tudor houses. Tho requiring a lot of clearing up before daring to mow the lawn.

This lad saw me off the premises. In fact, I thought he was going to ask for a lift, he got so close. I took it as a good signal to leave, all the same. 

And I will now too.

Indigo

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