While I was slaving away in the sweltering plaster room today, a helpful fellow was washing my car for me. This is the best service that anyone can provide, because frankly I’m too tired at the weekend (not to mention too lazy all the time) to clamber in and around Sceadufell getting the paintwork from grey to black again. Once it’s done, though, how satisfying the result. The leather smells of upholstry conditioner; the footwell mats are black, not a sort of dirty, speckled charcoal, and all of the plastic looks about ten years younger.  Gone are the calling cards of a thousand seagulls (apparently I’m not allowed to shoot them), and once more I can don my sunglasses, ditch the roof and not look like some sort of high-class vagrant.

Of course, on a day when I’m happy with my general road image the roads themselves would decide to be absolutely packed for no obvious reason. Well, I can think of at least one: it’s July and this is a Devon seaside town. We’re about to earn about half of the county’s annual income in two months. As you’ll already know if you’re a regular on the Exmouth web cam site (and why on earth wouldn’t you be?) the swings are back on the sea front, the swan-ships of the Teleri are back in Alqualondë and the ice-cream parlours have stocked up on Exmouth rock. It’s a bit crowded, but the town gets more interesting at this time of year.

Alqualondë. Behold its other-worldly majesty.

Alqualondë. Behold its other-worldly majesty.

Believe it or not, that’s all I have to say. It’s Thursday and not much happens between Monday and Friday around here apart from work. The most significant event of this week has been the arrival of a new tenant for the long-vacant flat 3, and that’s hardly worth more than this sentence. Just to bulk out this post and make it look as though I’m communicating more than bland nonsense, here are a few more titles from my regular source of non-information, Bizarre Books.

Nolan, Dennis. The Joy of Chickens (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1981)

Baum, Harold. The Biochemist’s Songbook (Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1982)

First Report of the Standing Advisory Committee on Artificial Limbs (Ministry of Pensions, 1947)

Creed, J.R. The Art of Making Faces (Pearson’s Magazine, 1897)

Carter, W. Rhythmical Essays on the Beard Question (n.p. 1868)

Blanchard, Charles Elton. The Romance of Proctology (Youngstown, Ohio: Medical Success Press, 1938)

To conclude, a classic example of an Edwardian title that I think I may have to read one day:

Hutchinson, Sir Jonathan. On Leprosy and Fish-eating: A Statement of Facts and Explanations (Constable & Co., 1906)

Your quotation for today addresses concerns that I feel regularly on perusing the steam-driven interweb.

Well! Some people talk of morality, and some of religion, but give me a little snug property.

Maria Edgeworth (1767-1849), The Absentee

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