Sunrise 0717, Sunset 1642

No idea how these times relate to the changing of the clocks.

That Fall Back thing used to be quite welcome in city life, I seem to remember that 'extra hour' was a great thing of almost mythological importance - stoking up the batteries for the winter to come, or maybe partying like hell the night before and seriously needing several more hours in bed for the rest of the week.

Up here though it's just an excuse to get confused and to be forced to change routine - all of which to my grumpy little mind is totally unnecessary and a complete waste of energy. It's far worse in the spring of course - but still a pain in autumn. We've adjusted to it this time by changing the time of our evening meal - it now being after the goats have been done, rather than before as it was in the summer. This change is designed to minimise the disruption to the goats, and maximise the use of available light.

Meanwhile, The Girl and I went fishing yesterday. We got very wet. I mean very, like really. We lost our spinner (I think that's what it's called), got really really wet, and cold and caught nothing (except, as the girl brightly remarked, "We nearly caught our deaths!"). Spirits were restored through the application of hot cocoa and tomato cuppa soup* when we got home, swiftly followed by watching Merlin on BBC iPlayer. And all was well.

* I knew someone once whose main income was cleaning caravans in a caravan park. She used to delight us with tales of the things holiday makers used to leave behind - "I haven't bought soap or toilet paper in weeks". The cuppa soup has a similar history - not something we would buy, but visitors bring all sorts of exotic things and they are always a delight**

** Though I must confess- we've had a couple of Heinz sponge puddings in the cupboard for over 12 months. We've eaten a couple of them - and when I was a kid I loved 'em - but somehow they are no match for my own sponge puds (which I always bake cos steaming is too much faff and they're nicer baked anyway), and I find making my own sponge puds to be less faff than boiling the tinned stuff, then fighting the hot tin with tin opener etc. So there they sit (until the donors return, when they shall be fed them).***

***Sorry about the footnoting of footnotes. I remember being told off at school for an overuse of parentheses - "Most immature Lee" - but surely the footnoting of footnotes is far worse.