Water under the bridge, through the pipes. Summer

I’ve never thought much about the practical applications of fluid dynamics as much as now that the water in the bathroom is turned off and we’re flushing with a ten litre bucket. Where previously a steady flow along the rim of the bowl gently swirled the fear of ID away, three hand-poured buckets of water do little but break yesterdays dinner into its constituent parts. Let’s celebrate the ability of modern science and engineering to deal with shit!

Summer is supposedly already here, but you wouldn’t know it without looking at the calendar. It’s wet, windy and I’ve been able to show of my calves in shorts for only two days — to the disappointment of the public at large. Work has petered out and is almost non-existent at the moment, which I understand is known as “vacation time” for those with jobs, and once I’ve managed to get the math studies out of the way I’ll have time to catch up on all those projects scattered about the place.

I’ve badly neglected my and Olle’s garden. Partly due to it being so cold there was little sense in planting anything earlier, partly due to low ambitions. You’d be forgiven if you believed, as did I, that Olle wouldn’t be able to dedicate as much time to the garden what with a new kid to cuddle and coo at, but you’d be mistaken. He’s very serious about his schedule and so has weeded and tended the garden despite the weather and having more to do than I. This makes me feel bad, and I’m thinking to make up for it by building a totally badass perimeter enclosure for our lot. In my head, it will be beautiful. Also in my head, the sun is fucking shining.