28th March 2019 Lovely waders! Get your waders here!

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Thursday 28th 45-60F, dark grey, slightly misty but calm at first. Sun or no sun? That is the question.

She made me do it! The head Gardener demanded I traipse out to Her garden to capture an excess of sunbathing Ladybirds on a poppy plant. 

The Head Gardener was a bit embarrassed yesterday. She hates wood pigeons almost as much as Miss Trotwood disliked donkeys. She was hurling verbal abuse at a dark blob huddled at the top of our fifty foot willow. When she suddenly realised it was actually Lord Phozzy. Unlikely as it might seem, for an almost flightless bird, our resident and almost regal pheasant, was roosting up there. 

Probably to avoid all the neighbour's cats. Which see our garden as a natural playground for all things cattish. I must say my sympathies lie with the pheasant. No matter how absurd that it should choose the highest tree in the neighbourhood to spend the night, THG's invective was decidedly uncharitable.

No doubt the NRA would enjoy hearing the Good Lady's demands for the latest WMDs which might be turned against the innocent pigeons. Perhaps we should get a new cat? The last one kept things "tidy." But He went walkabout after suffering a still unexplained head injury. Which cost us several years in advanced cat food expenses in veterinary bills. Life is all swings and roundabouts in these parts.

A walk to the lanes to watch an everyday story of country folk getting under way. A gigantic, 7 axle, shiny, stainless steel [stealth] tanker was loading pig's muck to share with some other locals. A tractor had been busy stirring the slurry in the huge concrete tank for a few days. With its extended "outboard motor" being driven by the tractor engine running flat out. Despite it being nearly 50F there was a decidedly cool wind blowing from the NW. It's an ill wind..

It was 60F warm in the afternoon but I was too busy for a ride.

Friday 29th 45F, bright and breezy. Stinking of pig shit. The independent TV channel weather wins again, against the supercomputer "rocking" meteorological establishment. Don't you hate that expression? "Rocking" does not describe anything useful except [perhaps] quarrying activities and soothing babies and grandparents in purpose designed furniture. It does  not [remotely] refer to the wearing of garments.

Talking of which: 2018 was warmer than ever and more CO2 is being stacked up in the atmosphere than ever before. 4.5 billion people have been affected by climate induced weather events so far. Fortunately our lords and masters of the Beloved 1% were not affected. So its "Business as usual." and "Greed works."

I really ought to invest in a pair of fisherperson's waders before prices soar. My insurance company keeps asking if I need "extended" flooding protection. And I'm well over 50 meters above sea level! The council keeps digging flash flooding storage ponds and road drainage schemes. Is there something "they" haven't told us?  😲

Following on the theme of excessive and/or unwarranted inclemency: I thought I had spots before my eyes as I ambled off towards the lanes. The local obsession with drainage has now been carried over to the roads. Each drain was neatly marked on the carriageway by a 75mm/3" painted yellow square. The question which occurs to me, is whether such spots can be seen while under brown water?

My neighbour cut his lawn yesterday and this has resulted in a bounty for the birds. Wagtails and even a pair of brightly embellished starlings had turned up for breakfast. It's ages since I saw a starling. So I suppose they must be added to the endangered list by now. Blackbirds are meant to be suffering from a deadly disease but it seems nobody has told them. Because there are literally hundreds of them out there. All over-playing the drama queen part at the first hint of a pedestrian OAP perambulating. Meanwhile the sky is full of lark song despite none of them holding a candle to Vaughan Williams. The hedges are full of Chaffinches and sparrows.

Heavy shopping in the car. The supermarket chain crooks are still advertising non-existent special offers. They shoud be chained up!

Saturday 30th 48-59F, mild and sunny again.  Walked to the village and back in bright sunshine and light traffic. Full sun all day.

Sunday 31st 38F bright with cold wind from the NW. Full sun promised. Despite having reached 43F the strong wind made my eyes water and my hands cold. Spring has definitely sprung with lots of blossom and leaves bursting from the bud. The clocks have gone forwards which the EU is supposed to end if they ever get a roundtoit. It was sunny all day but windy and cold at 48F max.

Click on any image for an enlargement.

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27th March 2019 Another 10 liters of bike chain oil, please?

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Wednesday 27th 43F, dark grey with light winds. D'y'all want sun or no sun, with that forecast? I'll take the sun, please? Coming right up! And so the battle of the "seaweed feelers" continues for another day.

The wind was at my back so I felt safe enough. Until I get home and drink the water. Walked to the lanes as very light rain began to fall. Nobody mentioned rain! I want a refund.

Does my bum look big with these spray bars? 

In breaking news: The EU is talking about compulsory speed limiters on all new vehicle by 2020. No doubt VW will find a way around another "silly" restriction. What about the 98% of secondhand cars on Danish roads?

Most Danes can't afford new cars when the import taxes are 250% to pay for vast fleets of Chumpy's fighters jests jets which are far too noisy to use. So that the taxpayer has to buy up whole villages and farms to demolish them around all the air bases.  At least it gives them an opening for increasingly unpopular, wind farms. Ironic that the jets are to preserve the Danish way of life against Pootin's drunken hordes, isn't it?

Meanwhile, Danish emergency service crews are wasting hours filling out forms to confirm they were on "a shout." When they accidentally passed one of the three new speed cameras in Denmark at only average traffic speeds. Speeding is a basic human right here. So I don't know what all the fuss is about.

The warmer weather has brought the Teslas and motorcycles back out on the roads of Denmark. Presumably they dissolve when fed on a liquid diet of Danish, road de-icer? My trike chain begins to rust within a few minutes of winter tyre spray. Did I tell you I have to buy my chain oil in 5 litre cans? No discount for bulk, either! It's no wonder I am often the only one on the road except for a few other, doolally OAPs. It's a good job I have a stainless steel trike! I only chose that material to avoid cleaning it. The foresight of Solomon, I call it.

These winter road treatments are so strong they even make big name, German white goods rust out from the inside! My 1990s car gives daily thanks for my very low mileage. Though it needed new sills at the last MOT. Beginning of the end? While my 1954 Higgins hangs and shivers in the draughty shed. I'm constantly praying to Odin that the spring gales won't be blowing off the nearest road today.

Click on any image for an enlargement.

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26th March 2019 "Wot he wrote."

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Tuesday 26th 39-46F, dark grey with a light breeze. Today's weather will be all day sunshine. Or all day grey. Eeny meany miney mo. TV2 or DMI? Off we [jolly well] go. A walk to the lanes in a cold north-westerly was closely followed by a ride to the village to shop. I trundled at an effrortless 20mph into the village and crawled back with rarely a sign of 10mph on the flight deck.

I do have one word of cycling advice: Don't take advantage of a vast, pig's muck spreader on a dusty road. Not even if you fancy a bit of uphill pacing while sheltering from the headwind gale! If the stench doesn't get you then the dust certainly will! I topped out at 14mph before admitting defeat.

I was just thinking: If the NSA is monitoring my "seriously doubtful" content, I do hope, for their sakes, and their genocidal god, that they aren't following my key strokes. Even after 50 years of constant typing, with 3-4 fingers, the number of typos per sentence does not diminish. Imagine the torture of following my virtual progress across the page? Snail racing at least has the element of competition. I compete with myself to finish a line.

I tried to learn to touch-type years ago but could never manage it. At least the levers don't cross and get all tangled up any more. As they used to do on my old typewriters. For those still in any doubt, my scribbling is a life-long habit. I used to scribble endless, illegible essays at school. 11 sides of riveting stuff was handed back to me with raised eyes. Without so much as a minus mark to my name.

In one exam my paper was returned, unmarked, as indistinguishable from an accidental scrawl. Any plans to ue this skill to become a doctor were [fortunately] hampered by my inability to remember anything from one moment to the next. It seemed that doctoring was mostly based on a good memory and sorting facts. I seriously doubt that anyone was less qualified than I at these tasks.

My handwriting never recovered from the change over from pencil to what passed for a scratchy, dip pen and ink pot back in the middle of the last century. Biros came later and were not supportive of any, deeply hidden, latent talent I might ever have had for forming words in a readable form.

"They" invented the typewriter just in time to save me from myself. Though my colleagues in the office, who suffered my painfully slow and deliberate typing, should have been knighted for their tolerance. It was no wonder I was never very popular.

Writing illegibly is a heavy burden on life's progress where quantity always outweighed understandable content. On the rare occasions when The Head Gardener read any of my output she said I left too many gaps in the narrative. It's true. I live the story as it unfolds. I make it up as I go along and entertain myself with my own words. Having the functional memory of a distracted gnat does not make for <cough> "great writing." More like slapstick writing in my case.

Believe it or not, most of "what he wrote" is actually meant to be slightly funny. But, if like me, you can't remember a single jok,e then humour on the page is unlikely to translate into real life. How could it? The things I find funny are rarely shared by others. I try to be funny on forums and nobody ever gets "the joke" and rewards me with a smiley. Or only very rarely. So I tried posting through the medium of emoji and that fell flat too. Why am I the only one who finds a smiley amusing in itself? They often say far more than any hieroglyph. I love the demented grins and loony winks. They, well some of them, have such "character!" They speak volumes I could never manage alone. 😎

If you find my words amusing then do try to laugh with me. Rather than at me. Believe me, I'm pedalling as fast as I can. But writing on a treadle sewing machine would be far more sensible than using any keyboard known to man. As I grow old older I find almost everything funny. It's probably an early sign of dementia. I now accept my weaknesses with good humour. Rather than feeling the need to justify myself over every past failure to perform. My life is basically, just, one, long typo. I am flawed. Therefore I am.

As a trendsetter and <cough> influencer I made a return trip to the village on my trike. 14 miles today! A Danish tax expert says that bloggers who gain financially from their activities should be taxed in full. Fat chance of me gaining anything except bemused onlookers as I trundle down the high street. Even after all these years there are still those who stare. Or actually look afraid. It's a third wheel, Madam. Not Boadicea's chariot!

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25th March 2019 SMICHYOSY or SMIDSYUATB?

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Monday 25th 36F, light breeze, clear and bright. Another day. Another choice of Danish weather services. Yet again the Danish, national, commercial TV station, TV2, is far more right than wrong. Day after day it is resolutely more optimistic on sunshine. While the Danish national weather service DMI is [as usual] far more pessimistic and more often than not, more completely wrong than right. Despite the recent supercomputer upgrade they bragged about. So now we just check the BBC UK weather maps to "know" what will happen over us. Heads, tails and.. whoopsadaisy?

Walked to the woods, anticlockwise, through the beeches then back along the spray tracks. Heard the tinkle of a robin on the edge of the woods but it was too well hidden. Chaffinches were calling from all over the place. A flock of pretty Goldfinches were chasing each other around over rough ground. Constant sunshine until I returned to grey skies.

The German transport minister is being ridden over the cobbles. Why? For using scantily clad, human bods in a campaign to bring attention to the lack of cycling helmets amongst younger riders. We must all pray that he didn't insist on being at every photo shoot. That would be in poor taste. SMIDSY [Sorry Miss I Didn't See You]

If nothing else, the global publicity has been difficult to miss. Even by those still wearing stylish headphones and dark glasses while texting and cycling completely in the dark. [SMICHOSY? Sorry Miss I Couldn't Hear Or See You.]  Google wanted to correct the spelling of SMICHOSY to psychosis.

Suit yourselves. The car driver will win in every [single] argument. Perhaps they should have had the scantily clad, young bods covered in [film makeup] blood?  SMIDSYUATB? [Sorry Miss I Didn't See You Under All That Blood] I suppose if they had posed models in the A&E that would have been "in poor taste" too?

What about saying 430 cyclists died a "horrible death." All mangled and torn and in agony with smashed limbs and heads. Like they had  in one year amongst cyclists in Germany alone? Is that in <cough> "poor taste?"  Surely 430 can't be enough for such a "Great Nation?" One which always sees itself as the leader of Europe? Hadn't they better increase the speed limits? You know it makes [no] sense.

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-47684746

NTSATH? 😏  Suit yourselves. You will anyway.

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18th March 2019 Send them all to Mexico? 😎

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Monday 18th 41-46F, early cloud clearing to sunshine. A windy day blowing from the north west. Sunshine depending on which of the two daily opposites in weather forecasting you trust.

Nothing [at all] to do with cycling but what about bussing all the US drug addicts to Mexico? Think of the savings on border patrols and building fictitious border walls and Home Security.

The drop in crime to pay for their disgusting habit and the endless battles to defend drug dealer's sales patches would be worth countless billions in savings on policing and prisons. The savings in health costs, from not having to treat the addicts and support their broken families, would be incalculable.

Think of the CO2 savings by the drug dealers on transport costs and security issues crossing the border? The cartels just need to open shops on every Mexican high street to provide easy access for their customers. Then, perhaps, we could have some more interesting news about something else. Like [say] cycling?

A walk to the lanes under grey skies and in a stiff westerly wind. Two blackbirds fought in mid air as a car bore down on them at 50mph. Ten yards further on it was the turn of the skylarks to be aerial scrapping. What has got into them? The sun came out in the last few yards before home and then disappeared for the next hour. The emphasis was mostly on cloud, rather than sunshine, for much of the day.

Tuesday 19th 32-46F, bright sunshine and sparkling frost. It should be sunny for most of the day on both forecasts. Which makes a change. A walk to the lanes then busy all day. Full sun from morning to evening.

Wednesday 20th 41F, dark grey and misty with a little wind at times. Walked along the marsh to disturb a pair of geese and a pair of cormorants. Four Mallards dashed off across the water followed by two coots. It's absolute mayhem on my walks!

The latest health [?] news is that consuming two sugar bomb "soft" drinks, per day, shortens life expectancy by 30%. I'm still waiting for the class action against the genocidal sugar companies. Round-up is being dragged through the courts on appeal against a conviction for causing cancer.

The Danish politicooze are discussing raising the price of cigarettes by 8 Kroner a pack. That's about 80p in Ol£e Money. The bleeding hearts are claiming it is a direct tax on the poor because only they are daft enough to still smoke. Somebody isn't considering the effect on the young who are vulnerable to societal pressures to begin the filthy habit and ruin their health.

Let's give the kids a nice big <cough> fat discount! Then the politicooze won't lose out on tax income from smokers to pay for another ten x $1Billion US fighter jets. Of course smokers don't last long enough to claim their pensions which they have paid for all their miserable lives. So there are savings to be made there.

I was allowed out for a shopping ride in the afternoon and cheated. I detoured over a hilly route through the forest on the way back. Still only 10 miles in total but every little counts.

Thursday 21st 44-46F, grey, breezy and misty. Two days of this are promised. Heavy shopping in the car.

Friday 22nd 43-46F grey and almost calm. The mist has gone and then came back again. A brown rat ran across from hedge to hedge in front of me as I walked to the lanes.

Saturday 23rd 43-48F, dark grey and misty. Some sunny periods promised by both weather forecasts. There was a bit of weak sunshine on my walk but it has turned uniform grey again. I checked my emails via webmail and discovered a spam box full of official, bank and business mails. Weird. I had to drag each one back into the inbox because there was no other way. No buttons to de-flag mails as not spam. How can the spam bot learn if there is no corrective action? Quite a sunny day but mostly cloudy with few gaps.

Sunday 24th 37F, calm and grey. Some sunny periods promised, again. Stolid grey throughout my 3 mile walk around the block. Hooper swans, geese and a woodpecker put on a show. As well as loads of others birds near and far.

Click on any image for an enlargement.

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16th March 2019 A bit of ride! [But not a whole one.]

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Saturday 16th 38-42F, looks more promising this morning. With lighter winds and thinner cloud. A walk to the lanes in quiet traffic. A buff coloured falcon landed in a roadside tree for a rest and was instantly mobbed by hooded crows. It flew across the prairie in only a few seconds followed by its fearless tormentors. They dropped back as they approached the forest. Just in time for another mob of crows to take over. I'm hopeless at identifying these birds but it had the distinctive bent and tapered wings and was probably twice the size of a kestrel.

A buzzard was circling over our house as I walked back. Soaring for a few moments as it searched for breakfast. Then turning and moving rapidly across the wind to pause for another for another scan. A speeding White Van Man, flooring contractor and sociopath, obviously valued my life as zero. As he brushed just past me. I had to jump onto the the grass verge to avoid certain death on a blind corner. He continued with his foot flat on the floor. Obviously late for a brain surgery appointment. The sun has come out now that I'm back but was very short lived. I wonder if I can escape on the trike?

And was! A lack of vital stock at local outlets found me on a hilly shopping trip. At ten miles it was time to return home directly into a 20mph headwind. Lots of cyclists out training in groups and singly. Many of them called out "God tur" and waved.[Pronounced "go' tour!" Good ride! Note the silent "d"]  Not going too badly considering my recent, almost complete lack of miles. 20 miles and back just in time for lunch.

It rained at 3pm. That should help the obvious roadside damage from two months of rain in the first week of March. Lots of large puddles in the fields and on the farm tracks. Not much on the roads.
I passed right under a mottled, grey and white, bird of prey roosting just above the road. Perhaps it was too tired and hungry to move? I shall have to be careful about building to longer journeys. Today was fine but a ride of double the length wouldn't have been much fun against the wind. Quite a number of old, rural houses had been bought up and used as an excuse to demolish and build something boring from scratch. Usually ending up as soulless bungalows.

Sunday 17th 41F, grey and breezy. And so it was, with some early sunshine between the clouds and hail and rain. March is officially the wettest ever despite it being only just half submerged [100.4mm by the 17th] so far. The average rainfall for the whole of March is usually 40mm.

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11th March 2019 Make every day count.

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Monday 11th 32F, dark grey, overnight frost. The forecast is for sunshine all day. Or no sunshine. Eeny meany miney mo. Walked to the village and back.

The Olympic silver medallist, track cyclist, Kelly Catlin is reported to have died aged 23. Cause as yet unknown.

Make every day count. You never know which of them might be your last. I can think of several moments when I might have died at other's hands. Despite the seeming odds against survival I am still here at 71 and still making an effort in my own, unique way.

Reasons to be cheerful still outweigh all else. If you are one of those fuckwits carrying a knife to use as an offensive weapon then you probably don't deserve to live for much longer. You are part of the problem. I was threatened by a coward with a knife at the age of 17. I was fortunate that I had a "useful" cycling friend with me who safely disarmed him.

My skills at self defence against such, or any attacks, have not improved. My near-death threat was over nothing at all. Probably just another a "village mentality" moron defending "his patch." I was just another cyclist buying chips at his local "chipper" on an evening cycle ride.

His "chip on his shoulder" nearly cost me my life and he a life sentence for a senseless murder. It was just one of many threats to my existence in my youth and later. Most of them were tribal. Always against a complete innocent who just happened to be in the wrong place. It was completely routine to be invited to fight if you went to a dance [i.e. A rock band playing in a village hall without much sign of any dancing going on] in Wiltshire. Get a life, of your own. Don't take one you don't own.

Tuesday 12th 37-40F, dark grey and windy with light rain. Walked to the lanes and back. Eyes watering in the cold wind. It is reported that Kelly Catlin took her own life after months of depression. She had suffered a concussion and broken arm which had prevented her training as she used to. A tragic loss of a truly, multi-talented, highly intelligent, young person.

Wednesday 13th 38F, dark grey, gales and all day rain forecast. I nipped outside to check and it was driving rain. No walk today.

Thursday 14th 41F, grey, walked to the lanes. Rain and wind.

Friday 15th 41F, grey, anticlockwise walk up to the woods. Saw a hovering kestrel. A 7 mile errand on the trike. Going quite well with a crosswind. More rain and gales later.

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8th March 2019 Politeness costs nothing but pays compound interest.

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Friday 8th 40-46F, dark grey and breezy. Severe gales forecast for the whole country. Sunshine or overcast depending on one's loyalty to which weather service. The "sunny" service offers higher wind speeds. This is absolutely crackers! The optimistic [commercial] service constantly offers sunshine which never happens.

It used to be so easy to use the DMI "official" weather service. Their charts were absolutely brilliant at sharing complex information at a glance. Then they decided to go with empty, colourless symbols and columns of figures against a white background. Has the DMI leadership come from the ranks of accountants? Now reading the weather requires serious brain power and considerable patience. Lives and services can often depend on the weather. Garbage in. Garbage out?

As an exile from Gravely Blighted I constantly wonder at the rudeness of many Danes towards supermarket staff. The Danes even have their own word for politeness. Høflig. [Pron: houflee means polite] Høflighed means politeness. The Danes have several hierarchical ways of  of saying thank you depending on the level of service or kindness provided. However, there is often a deliberate callousness to the Danes completely ignoring polite greetings at the checkout.

All too often the shopper fails to thank the staff for their service at the checkouts. The shopper snatches their receipt or goods and go off scowling with their heads deliberately bowed to avoid eye contact. Now the Danish news confirms it with story of a girl who gave up working in a supermarket due to the ignorance and rudeness of shoppers towards the staff. As a polite englænder who was "brought up properly" I always make a point of responding to the staff and thanking them for their service. Try taking away all the checkout staff and see how well your day [or week] goes!

A short but pleasant and respectful interchange with those who invisibly staff our vital service sector can make or break one's day. The vast majority of the elderly may never interact with another human being EXCEPT at the supermarket checkout. Politeness costs nothing and is the lubricant for a caring society where all have equal status. [Except for the "entitled," alien predator class represented by the parasitic 1%, of course.]

I see the sociopathic Fuehrer of the evil, Facebook advertising empire has had to pretend to listen to those who pulled their advertising through his private, megaphone service. "Privacy" is the new buzzword. That is until the next headlines about his deliberate cheating, with real people's private lives, just to add another billion to his temporary fortune. An ecosystem which is so leveraged against survival it is only a matter of time. Nature abhors a monopoly as much as it does a vacuum.

My walk was curtailed when I could no longer make any forward progress into the wind. I turned around and was blown back home while leaning backwards onto the wind. The rest of the day followed the same pattern of violent gusts but with lots of sunshine.

Saturday 9th 40-45F, dark grey, breezy and wet. Not quite such strong gales as yesterday on my walk. It dried up but any sunshine was fleeting.
 
The news is that the big car makers are facing a perfect storm. Nobody wants a diesel. Tariffs are hurting and China no longer needs more of the same. People are sick of toxic fumes, unhealthy gases and soot particles, built in obsolescence, unreliability and expensive repairs, noise and traffic jams. It used to be streets full of horse shit, then it was coal dust and black smoke blanketing the "civilised" world.

Now the world has finally turned its back on oil based fuels, advertising bullshit, lies and car commercials. Particularly those filmed at 3 o' clock on a Sunday morning in rural Romania on closed roads. Anything to avoid showing traffic jams and driving sociopaths. Everybody wants a self-driving Tesla. Or they'll scream and scream and scream! Until we are all sick to the back teeth of hearing about Tesla Boy's antics and lack of affordable, EV production.

Sunday 10th 37F, clear and bright start with light winds. It won't last! Well, it did for the moment. An anticlockwise walk along the road, up to the woods and back down by the field edges. Steady sunshine once the early cloud cleared.

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6th March 2019 Will the torment never end?

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Wednesday 6th 38-41F, dark grey with a light breeze. Still undecided which forecast to trust. Eeny, meany miney mo? Sunshine and showers or dry and cloudy? Who knows?

A walk to the lanes in a thin, cold wind. My efforts were slightly hampered by the twin moraines of prickly twigs slashed from the roadside hedgerows. I amused myself by kicking stray branches and the odd tree trunk into touch [i.e. the verge.] Basically anything which might hinder cyclists was removed from their path.

Will I get a ride today before I become too weak from hunger to manage the hills? I had been digging under the wire, for ages. But badly miscalculated how much space a touring trike actually needs to go through a tunnel.

The tunnel started under the trike shed. I was sneaking the waste soil out in the saddle bag on officially sanctioned, shopping trips. Letting the spoil trickle out through a flap in the bottom of the bag, onto the farmer's muck spreading on the roads, had made my efforts all but invisible.

Then The Head Guard noticed the rear tyres were already flattened by the weight of the soil as I was being body searched at the security gate. So finally, my ruse was discovered. I was sentenced to dragging a second, ABUS Mini U-lock along on future shopping rides. Which will make any hope of soil carrying completely impossible.

Now I have two Abus locks aboard my back tyres look flat all of the time. So I will have to watch out for pinch punctures. This is despite pushing the pressures up to well over 200psi on the Twin Peaks, track pump. All the plans of mice and mere tricyclists..

It turned very wet in the afternoon. Which meant going shopping in the car. Grr! Foiled again!

Thursday 7th 45F, dark grey and breezy. Rain and gales promised. It stayed dry for my hour and half walk along the marsh. Then up through the steep fire breaks and back along the soggy track. Everything was very wet from yesterday's rain. The beck was flowing very briskly too. While the marsh lake was inhabited by only two Coots. One shy, which literally dashed off across the water and one seemingly indifferent to my presence. Not one duck in sight after the many hundreds last year.

Later, I disturbed two large geese which were grazing on the field. Which was their cue to do three complete circles around me while complaining noisily at the interruption of their breakfast. Surely one lot of farmer's crops is much the  same as any other, or so I would have thought.  A vehicle had lost control on one of the blind bends in the village and damaged the ancient, concrete barrier. Fortunately it held and steered the vehicle back onto the road.

Click on any image for an enlargement.

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4th March 2019 Feeding stations on the Tour-de-Transylvania?

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Monday 4th 46F, mild and dark grey. Brightening with rain, sunshine and violent, or stormy gusts, promised over the next two days. AKA: Secondhand Freya from Gravely Blighted.

I risked a walk after a heavy shower and even managed a few hundred yards. Then darker clouds headed my way and I turned tail. Just in time too, as the rain began to batter my blotting paper jacket. 

The latest cycling news is that blood doping is all the rage in The Peloton. Blood bank feeding stations, anybody? What's next? A swarm of cycling vampires picking off lone spectators on quiet, woodland stretches?

I wish they'd pick off those fat barstewards wobbling their few yards uphill with the climb leaders on those tortuous, 120mile, multi-mountain stages! Take out the weeds first, so to speak. Giving each of the racing cyclists a lethal taser might be too cumbersome. They might start using them on each other! It would be too much to hope for a bloodbath finally putting an end to the extremist limits of obscene narcissism.

What about setting a new rule? If you can't jog or cycle all the way up the mountain, to your chosen viewpoint, then you simply aren't fit to watch the real vampires athletes. Driving up there to park a car or camper van on the mountainside should be banned immediately as unsporting!

Only foot, or pedal traffic, beyond the foot of the mountain for spectators. That should sort out the worst of the deranged scum. Enjoying their annual release from Europe's largest lunatic asylums for the morbidly obese flashers and perverts!

I wonder how many of them voluntarily return to their ordained accommodation at the end of their brief escape from their habitual straitjackets? Instead of their brief claim to infamy. Trundling, breathlessly and obscenely uphill in mass-produced, XXXXL rip-offs of Borat poser's costumes. As if such hideous garments could possibly hide the flab from their lifelong incarceration for their own [and our] safety.

Tuesday 5th 49F, dark grey and showers. The wind is dying down quickly after a supposedly stormy night. Though I didn't hear anything myself. Sunshine was in very short supply on my walk. An hour and a quarter walking anti-clockwise up to the woods and back the other way. It was far more windy than earlier and much worse where I was exposed to the open "prairie" without any shelter at all.

At least it stayed dry. The first, though brief, sunshine came after 10.30am. Continued to tease with occasional flashes of brightness. Until short, but fierce, hail and rain showers finally put an end to seeing any sunshine at all. After that it remained determinedly grey and cloudy. All pleas to be allowed out for a foraging ride were, alas, summarily rebutted.

The world's fastest hypercar car is now an electric vehicle produced by an Italian car designing company. Does this mean no more 50 litre, V24s with 20 turbos and a dozen blowers? Probably not. Those in the market for such vehicles probably have half a dozen of each and pay a pittance for child care.

Click on any image for an enlargement.

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Sunday 3rd March: Artificial sun bathing on the winter patio.

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Sunday 3rd 44-48F, dark grey, breezy with rain and brighter intervals. Even patches of blue sky appearing now. A walk to the lanes in a chill wind despite soaring temperatures. Now 46F at 10.30.

There is a political argument going on in Europe about the legality of children taking time off from school to protest against climate change. I wonder, do those same students insist on walking or cycling to school as we did in previous generations? Or are they driven up to the school gates by their doting parents in a large and impressive saloon? Just in case the other students sneer at them for their family's, undoubted poverty.

Perhaps the same students should protest against the use of patio warmers? 1500W electric, radiant heaters, for use outside. While the owners enjoy nature in the raw.  Probably while wearing the traditional Danish, winter wear, of short sleeved, cotton T-shirt and shorts. As they do all winter in Denmark with the central heating turned right up.

Add that to the strings of "landing lights" burning all day long outside. So that the home owners can come home, in their individual cars, one for each member of the family, to a safe and welcoming wash of artificial daylight. While simultaneously advertising their absence from home, all day, every day, to any passing thief looking for an easy target.

These <cough> security lights often use old fashioned light bulbs burning hundreds of watts per hour, often 24 hours a day. Because their owners are too lazy to update to compact florescent, let alone fit modern LEDs. I blame the crooked, compact florescent manufacturers. Flogging expensive "low energy" replacements for traditional incandescent bulbs.

The light outputs were obscenely overrated per claimed, replacement wattage. Which often meant buying several examples before enough light could be had. Of course nobody mentioned they filled the house with mercury dust and vapour when they broke. As many of them did. Not to mention the heat they produced. Often on a par with incandescent bulbs!

Just think: They could close one of the many, Danish, [imported] coal fired, power stations if they banned patio warmers and security lights, left on during the day time. We had "night and day" overrides on outdoor, proximity sensors [motion detectors] well over 30 years ago in Gravely Blighted.

However, under the rigid rules of Janteloven, this means that the Danes can't have them. Not until a pure bred Dane, with at least a thousand years of recorded pedigree in the same village, independently invents them. Since, under Jante's Law, nobody is allowed to feel superior, nobody bothers to invent anything useful like that.

The ordinary Danes would just sneer at them for trying to be cleverer than them. So it could take thousands more years before the electrical component monopoly starts manufacturing [in China of course.] For resale under a Danish label with non-Danish instructions and markings. Finnish is the most popular language for "white goods" sold here. You'll almost always find it on cookers and washing machines. And, it's no use contacting the manufacturer for instructions in a language you can understand. 

Thankfully, for the Danes, the trend towards "smart goods" means they can now have Google Translate built into the tiny screen. So that they can understand the gibberish printed on the control panel. Not that Google Translate is any better at translating, or pronouncing Danish, than it is at offering results to Danish language searches.

Sometimes, when we are really bored with Netfilch, which is all too often these days, we will do image searches using Danish language search terms. Just for the fun of it. It is absolutely hilarious! How you can have several pages of results? Without one, single image ever hitting the spot! 😏  

 

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2nd March 2019 The village people with special powers.

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Saturday 2nd 33-42F, overnight frost, thick mist with a grey overcast. It should get brighter depending on which of the two complete opposites in which you place your faith in total, meteorological fantasy. The Head Gardener has expressed an interest in a special offer from a supermarket chain which is not locally represented. If I leverage this correctly there could well be a ride in it. With the headlines full of stories of multiple pileups in thick mist I must hope that it thins.

Given the totally undisciplined driving style, in fog or otherwise, around these parts, nothing [at all] surprises me. The inhabitants of the capital refer to our geographic area as the region of the "special people." With decreasing respect depending on how far west these [supposedly inferior] people live.

A bit like Londoners thinking everybody from Devon or Cornwall is a yokel and as thick as a brick. Or two short planks, depending on personal preferences. Some believe that everybody north of the M25 is a peasant. While I personally believe most Londoners suffer from MVM [Morbid Village Mentality.] 

Many of the locals, hereabouts, obviously think of themselves as special. Though I wouldn't go so far as to allow them "special powers" behind the wheel. Which so many obviously believe they have. No headlights in thick fog despite a national law demanding dipped headlights 366x24? No rear fog lights despite the drooling idiocy of not using them when required?

Driving nose to tail when there is no legal means of overtaking for literally miles of double white lines, endless blind bends and blind humps? Cutting every single corner even when traffic is already using their only legal side of the road themselves? Or literally clipping the verge on every other?

Routinely overshooting the rest by at least a car's width? So that the double white lines are completely erased, on every single bend, over much of the Danish road network. Every traffic light is a welcome opportunity to RLJ. One not to be missed [at any cost.] City traffic speeds could be doubled literally overnight if they provided roundabouts. Instead of  further excuses to break the law in broad daylight.

Talking of accidents: I stopped counting when I reached 50 vehicles falling of the 3 miles of local roads within a few, short years. All left stranded on the verge, sometimes on their sides or even on their roofs. All waiting for the rescue services to tow them away. Some were there for a week! How, on earth, do these people survive? Owners of Scalextric, toy car, racing tracks will understand [exactly] what it's like.

A Dane once said that Danes ignore the rules of the road as a low key protest against having the highest taxations, service charges and retail prices in the world. Which may well explain the daily headlines of motorway closures due to <cough> "accidents." It is completely commonplace to see cars overtaking at well over  [160kph] 100mph in torrential rain and four inches of standing water on the Danish motorways, despite much lower legal speed limits of around 130kph. [80mph]

Meanwhile, the politicooze have far more pressing matters to attend to than mere driver survival. The pressure is really on to slash taxes for the "offshore" ultra-rich. While leaving 73,000 of the weakest, elderly Danes without any, official, home help. They have no bread? Let them eat cake! Or Danish pastries, in this case.

A huge machine was spraying the prairie as I walked along the road to the lanes. Too far away and still too misty for my TZ7 camera zoom to make much impact. Two geese went overhead while the Wood pigeons practised their deliberate stalls in the hope of <cough> pulling more birds.

Add another 15 miles to the triking total. I could feel my knees slightly today despite trying to stay between 95 and 105rpm. Did some climbing out of the saddle too. It felt much cooler than of late.

 

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1st March 2019 The great escape [from reality!]

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Friday 1st March 38-46F, calm and dark grey. After a run of fine and mild weather the clouds are back. There were a few spots of blue in the sky on my walk to the village and back. Quite a lot of pheasants about too. No wind suggests a ride might be in order if I can just get the trike over "The Wall." I could claim it was a national emergency but it is unlikely to get a pass by The Border Guard patrols.

Despite my doubts I was actually allowed out for a ride to a 10 mile distant DIY outlet. By the time I had detoured on the way back to try my luck at another DIY store I had managed 25 hilly miles. The wind turbines were all standing still but it still felt like a headwind whichever direction I rode. There was even a little sunshine.

My legs were fine for the first 3/4 of the distance but beginning to tire on the hills by the end. Hardly surprising given my very low mileage of late. My average speed on the computer has dropped to below 11mph. From a high of 13+ during my highest mileages. Rides on two days in a row? This could become a habit! Even a bit OCD?  😉

Saturday 2nd 33-42F, overnight frost, thick mist with a grey overcast. It should get brighter depending on which of the two complete opposites in which you place your faith in total, meteorological fantasy. The Head Gardener has expressed an interest in a special offer from a supermarket chain which is not locally represented. If I leverage this correctly there could well be a ride in it. With the headlines full of stories of multiple pileups in thick mist I must hope that it thins.

Given the totally undisciplined driving style, in fog or otherwise, around these parts, nothing [at all] surprises me. The inhabitants of the capital refer to our geographic area as the region of the "special people." With decreasing respect depending on how far west these [supposedly inferior] people live.

A bit like Londoners thinking everybody from Devon or Cornwall is a yokel and as thick as a brick. Or two short planks, depending on personal preferences. Some believe that everybody north of the M25 is a peasant. While I personally believe most Londoners suffer from MVM [Morbid Village Mentality.] 

Many of the locals, hereabouts, obviously think of themselves as special. Though I wouldn't go so far as to allow them "special powers" behind the wheel. Which so many obviously believe they have. No headlights in thick fog despite a national law demanding dipped headlights 366x24? No rear fog lights despite the drooling idiocy of not using them when required?

Driving nose to tail when there is no legal means of overtaking for literally miles of double white lines, endless blind bends and blind humps? Cutting every single corner even when traffic is already using their only legal side of the road themselves? Or literally clipping the verge on every other?

Routinely overshooting the rest by at least a car's width? So that the double white lines are completely erased, on every single bend, over much of the Danish road network. Every traffic light is a welcome opportunity to RLJ. One not to be missed [at any cost.] City traffic speeds could be doubled literally overnight if they provided roundabouts. Instead of  further excuses to break the law in broad daylight.

Talking of accidents: I stopped counting when I reached 50 vehicles falling of the 3 miles of local roads within a few, short years. All left stranded on the verge, sometimes on their sides or even on their roofs. All waiting for the rescue services to tow them away. Some were there for a week! How, on earth, do these people survive?

A Dane once said that Danes ignore the rules of the road as a low key protest against having the highest taxations, service charges and retail prices in the world. That may well explain the daily headlines of motorway closures due to <cough> "accidents."

Meanwhile, the politicooze have far more pressing matters to attend to than mere driver survival. The pressure is really on to slash taxes for the "offshore" ultra-rich. While leaving 73,000 of the weakest, elderly Danes without any, official, home help. They have no bread? Let them eat cake!

A huge machine was spraying the prairie as I walked along the road to the lanes. Too far away and still too misty for my TZ7 camera zoom to make much impact. Two geese went overhead while the Wood pigeons practised their stalls in the hope of <cough> pulling more birds.

______________________________________

Add another 15 miles to the triking total. I could feel my knees slightly today despite trying to stay between 95 and 105rpm. Did some climbing out of the saddle too. It felt much cooler than of late.

There is a political argument going on about the legality of children taking time off from school to protest against climate change. I wonder, do those same students insist on walking or cycling to school as we did in previous generations? Or are they driven up to the school gates by their doting parents in a large and impressive saloon? Just in case the other students sneer at them for their family's, undoubted poverty.

Perhaps the same students should protest against the use of patio warmers? 1500W electric heaters, for use outside while the owners enjoy nature in the raw.  Probably while wearing the traditional Danish, winter wear, of short sleeved, cotton T-shirt and shorts. As they do all winter in Denmark. Probably with the central heating turned right up.

Add that to the strings of "landing lights" burning all day long outside. So that the home owners can come home, in their individual cars, one for each of the family, to a safe and welcoming wash of artificial daylight. While simultaneously advertising their absence from home, all day, every day, to any passing thief looking for an easy target.

These <cough> security lights often use old fashioned light bulbs burning hundreds of watts per hour, often 24 hours a day. Because their owners are too lazy to update to compact florescent, let alone fit modern LEDs. I blame the crooked, compact florescent manufacturers. Flogging expensive "low energy" replacements for traditional incandescent bulbs.

The light outputs were obscenely overrated per claimed, replacement wattage. Which often meant buying several examples before enough light could be had. Of course nobody mentioned they filled the house with mercury vapour when they broke. As many of them did. Not to mention the heat they produced. Often on a par with incandescent bulbs!

 

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