Sunday, May 11th 2025

A beautiful, glorious, sunny and warm day.

A day to spend outdoors, in the fields, in the park, on the streets, in your own garden.

An almost perfect English Summer’s Day.

If you’re not looking at the news of course.

Don’t go outside?

Fucking Hell.

Our ancestors are so mortified that they’re actually cringing in their graves. They’re too traumatised to spin.

We’re that pathetic.

It’s around 1830 right now and I’m drinking a beer while I cook dinner. The doglets are both shattered.

Milo because he’s walked around 5 miles today in the killer heat ( spoiler, I carry water as well as home made treats like dehydrated chicken and chicken sausages) – Cairo because she’s followed me all round the land while I cut bits of tree down and burn them – oh yeah, I dug a wildflower area over too. And also because we played for the best part of an hour with the hose and the water gun.

She absolutely loves it and so do I,

We get to play in the open air, she goes absolutely fucking apeshit, and I laugh.

A lot.

I can’t tell anybody how to live their lives, I can’t say what’s good or bad. I can’t say what’s safe or dangerous, but I can tell you what I know.

Days like today are for spending outside, having fun or getting things done. Or both.

The day that the MSM can tell us to avoid sunlight are apparently here

All we can do is laugh at them.

Hide inside.

Fuxake 😂