Dead to Rights

Persistent blogger (I’d say ‘fellow persistent blogger’, but my daily entries are perfunctory compared to Dave’s) Dave Rogers, one of the original circle of people I used to link to regularly, commented today on my describing 19°C as ‘hot’. Fair play, Dave; I used to live in Florida too, but that was (mumbles like Trump) years ago, and I’ve lived north of 50° (the other kind of degrees) (one of the other kinds of degrees, sheesh) for the past fifteen years, sneaking up on being a quarter of my life. I’m fully acclimated to British temperatures, where (a) 19° really is a hot daybreak temperature and (b) we reserve the right to complain about the weather no matter what anyone else thinks of it. (Sorry for the links to Twitter, but VBP isn’t active on BlueSky.)

Anyway, it was down to 12° this morning, so my miles were pretty comfortable. Both knees behaved (after an early jolt or wobble from each of ’em), I pulled my stride closer to the front of my foot, and I sustained a decent pace through the morning. Coffee, fruit breakfast, some liturgical typesetting, pastoral visit to Fr Keith, and work this afternoon on tomorrow’s homily for the Assumption/Dormition….

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