What do you do when you’re bored in January and live in Cambridge? Answer: drive for 2 hours to fulfill an idiotic challenge to run up an arbitrary number of hills based on a somewhat tenuous definition of a ‘highest point’. It just dawned on me that I can’t really justify this challenge, other than “I’ve started so I’ll finish”. It’s genuinely nice that people regularly ask me how the challenge is progressing, but I also get a little bit of a sense of disappointment when I tell them I’ve only run up 16/103 hills.
What do you do when you’re bored in January and live in Cambridge? Answer: drive for 2 hours to fulfill an idiotic challenge to run up an arbitrary number of hills based on a somewhat tenuous definition of a ‘highest point’. It just dawned on me that I can’t really justify this challenge, other than “I’ve started so I’ll finish”. It’s genuinely nice that people regularly ask me how the challenge is progressing, but I also get a little bit of a sense of disappointment when I tell them I’ve only run up 16/103 hills.
Once upon a time. That’s a terrible beginning for any story. But that’s the beginning of this story. A story of sights, sounds, and gingers. Let’s begin.
A wise man said that only a ginger may call another ginger “ginger”. He also said “cheese”, a lot, and had a penchant for lunging. This wise man’s name is Tim. Tim is an entertainer from a strange country called Oz. We went to see Tim in his “show” before we decided to run around our nation’s capital.
Once upon a time. That’s a terrible beginning for any story. But that’s the beginning of this story. A story of sights, sounds, and gingers. Let’s begin.
A wise man said that only a ginger may call another ginger “ginger”. He also said “cheese”, a lot, and had a penchant for lunging. This wise man’s name is Tim. Tim is an entertainer from a strange country called Oz. We went to see Tim in his “show” before we decided to run around our nation’s capital.
This will be a short post, as I’ve heard that brevity is the soul of wit (Hamlet).
It’s a long time between Christmas and Easter this year. Too long. It got to the point where both Julie and I were getting run down, so we planned an impromptu break to the Cotswolds and Stratford upon Avon - Shakespeare country! We found a cute little cottage called the Old Dairy, complete with it’s own massive cheese press in the bedroom - thankfully it hadn’t been used for some while so the aroma of maturing cheddar did not linger.
