The randomness continues

There's still precious little to report due to having little appetite for walking or wildlife watching in horizontal rain. Since I returned to work, every job which was outside has been carried out in the wet. And every indoor job has been accompanied by sunny skies. Go figure. For example, this week we have had: Monday (outside and dreich), Tuesday (indoors and glorious), Wednesday (outside and dreich), Thursday (was supposed to be outside but ended up being indoors and glorious), Friday (today, outside and dreich). On the plus side, tomorrow is Saturday and should be glo... nope, I'm not going to say it, just in case.

Last week I had the good fortune to be working in Shetland (sorting out wifi and connectivity problems in the home) on the day that the whole county had an internet outage thanks to a fishing boat. Smart phones were just paperweights, I couldn't contact a soul. I thought I might have to go all Victorian and write a letter, then remembered that Royal Mail were probably on strike. So customer communications were rather old school, chapping on the door or ringing the bell. The most oft-used welcome was "We didn't think we'd see you today!"

Here's a brief jog through a few photos from the last fortnight.

A Sexton Beetle, Nicrophorus investigator, I think. Showed up on the bedroom floor on my birthday. You know you're old when the carrion beetles make house calls!

I was given this book as a present the day after I tested negative for Covid. It's 'take home' message? Sars-Covid-2 will not be the only virus to produce a human pandemic in the 21st Century. And it will likely not be the worst one. It's sobering stuff, but delivered in a most readable way. I do like the history of science, even if it is incredibly recent and tragic history.

Detail of the underside of a Red Admiral butterfly's wings. Put the butterfly in the sun afterwards, so it could soak up some warmth from the rays.

After a day of wind and rain (Wednesday, see above), sunset Stronsay-style