Wettest Day on Record

(internet at home is being variable and undependable -- need visit from computer geek of some sort. probably of the Wirish sort.)

Yesterday was the wettest day in British record-keeping and this June is the wettest as well! There is horrible flooding all over the country. People have died. Business people had to be evacuated from offices. It is MENTAL.

Today, it is very very cold (at the moment, it is 11*C -- this is like the low 50*s F, I think). The wind is blustery. I did not ride my bike as was afraid of being blown into the side (or even worse, back) of a rubbish truck.

Sundry people who shall remain nameless have pressured me into joining yet another of these stupid web/network/'IHaveMoreFriendsThanYou things. It is Facebook. It is okay, I suppose. AND, I have 22 friends so far (hoorah!).


At work, am planning travel for Fall. This is like a grand puzzle and is quite fun for the most part.

Friday last week, went to meeting in London at Goodenough College. Can you imagine working there?! The horror of having people ask you incessantly if your college was 'good enough'... Tee hee hee. It was a useful meeting and involved British people saying that the US was actually doing something much better than themselves! (gasp) This something is Pre-Departure and Re-Entry Orientation for students studying abroad (e.g., University of the Pacific).

Helene met me in London after taking the train from work, and we rode up on the 6.30 together, which made the journey quite pleasant.


Not much of historic note was accomplished over the weekend other than food, wine, lime cheescake, coffee and guacamole consumption. Skies were pretty grey the whole time, too, though fortunately no deluges.



To left, is St. George Tombland, which is interesting for the square blocks forming the flint knapping as opposed to being flint rocks simply split in half.



To right, is Helene (and she hates this picture because she is a Silly Lady Friend). Photo inside the Cloister of Norwich Cathedral, right before we had the poorest cuppa tea in the history of the planet in the Refectory.



And, the Royal Arcade (where resides The Colman Mustard Shoppe)!



*******
Finally, what on earth makes Paris Hilton's release from prison of import to Britons? This was considered (by some dim candle) that this needed to be on the morning BBC news, alongside stories of destructive flooding and the Alan Johnston video of him wearing an explosives belt. But, yes, let's follow helicopter video coverage of a dime store bimbo leaving Lynwood after serving (less than half the) time for breaking a drink driving parole. Super!