A quick “hello” (“hullo”, or “halloo”, according to your taste; I’ll even venture an “ahoy-hoy” if you must) to everyone who is dropping by as a result of the feature on the TGO Challenge in the autumn edition of TGO Magazine, in which I briefly feature. After recovering from being referred to as “weight-obsessed” (which may have a grain of truth when seen from some angles) I was horrified to see that this proud Staffordshire man has been labelled in the article as a Mancunian . I would immediately march on TGO HQ and demand that such an insult be rectified at once, but it’s an awfully long way to go so I’ll probably opt for popping the kettle on and quietly fuming over a cuppa. Ooh, cake.
There are a number of posts here covering the TGO Challenge and the gear I used, so do please have a wander round if you think they may be of interest. A quick glance at the dates of individual posts will highlight that this is only an occasional, sporadic blog rather than the more frequently updated and focussed ones linked to over on the right (do try them: they’re well worth visiting and there’s a satisfying *click* from the mouse when you do); and indeed when I do post the topic may well not be particularly related to hiking.
Hello as well to the occasional adventurous soul who clicks on my signature link from the various role-playing game forums, such as RPGnet and RPGMP3, and finds a blog consisting of lots of posts about rucksacks. I’ll be writing more gaming-related things soon. Ish. Probably.
It has not been the best of weekends for laundry. Until the temperature drops enough to warrant turning on the central heating the house is not a great drying environment, but Manchester is rarely a fine spot for hanging out your great and smalls on the line. Catching up on some overdue washing, it looked as though everything would be as likely to come in wet from rain as it would remain wet if hung indoors.
The casual nature of modern technology struck me again in the early evening (and if you’ve ever been struck in the early evening you’ll know what a shock that can be) as I wandered out to the garden to cast a dubious eye at the heavens. I’d been lucky, very lucky, that the day had stayed dry, but another hour would be really helpful… or I could skip the chance and take the now almost dry laundry inside to hang. Considering my firm belief that it was about to rain every time I’d looked outside since about ten in the morning I wouldn’t have wagered heavily on my predictive abilities… then I remembered that these days I have a mobile ‘phone. Whipping out the little time-waster I punched up the weather map app (weather m’app?) and watched as it rolled a series of animated radar images across a virtual Manchester. Three minutes later I was inside, putting the clothes on the rack to air. Five minutes after that the heavens opened.
The secret that helped to fight the Luftwaffe, right there in my pocket, available at a moment’s notice. Helping me to do the laundry.