The Chronicles of MacNoodle

The Great Perfume Hunt Of '09

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 16:45:00 +0000

You've heard of The Secret Seven. You've heard of The Famous Five.

Pah. Amateurs.

When you're on the scent of, well, The Scent, you need the best of the best. You need The Thaumaturgical Three. (Er, you may also need a dictionary, if you're not a Terry Pratchett fan).

Reunited for what would prove to be their most challenging case yet, Alien Wally, Mags, and Shirley-Mom vowed to utilise all their investigative power to track down the elusive Scent from its hiding place somewhere in the UK.

Here are some highlights from the case files:

The Three started out in Windsor, posing as tourists, hoping that the castle would hold some clues to The Scent's location. The presence of soldiers suggested the guarding of some very important national treasures. But, it was to prove a herring as red as the soldiers' fancy outfits.

Foiled, The Three decided to search for the Scent in London.

First stop: Trafalgar Square. Nada but for Nelson.

Mags searched vainly in the National Gallery for clues, though as usual got hopelessly distracted by the Turners.

At first sight, Harrods, with it's gleaming perfume bottles, seemed a likely spot for The Scent to hide. But 'twas not to be.

And with Big Ben not telling them anything besides the time, The Three gave up for the day.

The following morning, they tried to draw on the wisdom of the animal kingdom, but were laughed out of the field.

With the trail of The Scent growing cold in The SOUTH, The Three decided to try their luck further north. But, before they could leave, Shirley-Mom needed to update her skillz to blend in seamlessly with the locals.

The trip north encompassed a quick visit to York, where they learned one important fact.

And they arrived in Scotland to a very warm (er, cold?) welcome.

Where better to start in The Land Of The Water Of Life than with the life-giving elixir itself. But, despite its sublime aromas, no clues as to the location of The Scent were revealed.

Mags and Shirley-Mom braved the winds on the Forth Bridge to see if The Scent was trying to make a break for it on the river.

They asked the locals.

They tried Edinburgh Castle. They watched the cannon closely, saw some ghosts in the cafeteria, checked out the Crown Jewels and even descended into the Castle's deep dark depths to see what the prisoners had left behind. But to no avail. The Scent was more deeply hidden than that.

Alien Wally and Mags tried to persuade Shirley-Mom to swim out into the North Sea to Bass Rock to search for The Scent there. But, this is as far as she got. *Cough* Wuss *cough* (to which the only acceptable reply is *Cough* Hypocrites *cough*).

The East Lothian countryside seemed full of possible hiding places.

Eventually, they turned their sights further north.

Like Nessie, The Scent was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps too far north? How about slightly further south? They tried the Lammermuir Hills, where Alien Wally thought he spotted something fishy, and the gargoyles were stony-faced.

Strange stone carvings led The Three to realise they hadn't yet tried the obvious place – the home of the Holy Grail. But, despite promises of Truth, even Rosslyn Chapel wasn't telling any of its secrets.

In desperation, they eventually thought to ask Madam, who had spent most of the adventure sleeping. “Duh,” she said, yawning in obvious annoyance at being disturbed, “St James, the Patron Saint of Scent.” And she was right. Case closed.

The Pre-Holiday Holiday

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 15:23:00 +0000

Once upon a time, a good few months ago, Alien Wally and Mags went on holiday. To prepare for another holiday. Practice makes perfect, you know.

This time, the travellers were bravely heading past the Scottish border and the north of England towards that amorphous area simply referred to on northern road signs as "The SOUTH" (caps included).

And amorphous it is, with the motorway between Newcastle and London not having much to show for it in terms of distinguishing features. Anything of interest requires a detour off the long boring road to see.

So, before they fell asleep at the wheel from lack of visual stimulation, that's exactly what Alien Wally and Mags decided to do. Their detour destination: Cambridge.

The last time Alien Wally and Mags visited Cambridge, five years previously, it was at the end of a very busy and exhausting three week holiday. Consequently, the visit went something like this:
Mags' mind: Let's go, let's go! We're in Cambridge! We have to go pay our respects to these hallowed halls of academia! Come on!
Mags' body: F*#$ off. I'm tired. I hurt. I give up. I'm going to sit here in the grounds of Kings' College and cry.
Mags' mind: But... but... University! Books! Bicycles!
Mags' body: Tired. Hurt. Sit. Cry. What part of this don't you understand?
Alien Wally: So, does this mean we're not going punting on the River Cam then?

Good times, folks. Good times.

Anyway, things went much better this time around, Mags is happy to report.

There was punting.

There was hallowed academic halls.

There was bicycles.

There was a crazy man. And a crazy lady. And another crazy man. There are no pictures of these – what, you think Alien Wally and Mags are stupid enough to attract the attention of The Crazies by taking pictures of them? Think again, dear friends. Self-preservation is an art more prized than photography.

And then, there was back on the road, heading to Kent to visit family.

With a few days' grace until even more family arrived from South Africa, Alien Wally and Mags decided to visit Greenwich while they were down that way (i.e in The SOUTH).

There was a Naval College. With very beautiful ceilings.

There was much anticipation while waiting for the observatory's one o'clock ball to drop. There was much anticlimax at witnessing the observatory's one o'clock ball drop.

There was crossing the Greenwich meridian, through the hordes of people all waiting in a long queue along the meridian to have their pictures taken in front of the fancy commemorative sculpture.

There was the decision to take a wee walk along the Thames from Greenwich to Tower Bridge. Because how far could it be, really? Turns out: five miles (eight kilometers). As a result, there was walking. And more walking. And still more walking.

There was a roundabout with confusing traffic signals.

And then there was Tower Bridge.

And, before Mags' body could throw a hissy fit like it did in Cambridge five years ago, there was a ride back to Greenwich on the Thames Clipper.

Good times, folks. Good times. For real.

Home Makeover: The Extremely Slow Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 10:38:00 +0000

Man, but y'all are just too impatient with your constant clamouring for photos of Alien Wally and Mags' new kitchen.

What y'all have got to understand is that these things take time. Here's roughly how it went down:

* Psychological preparation to cope with breaking the house after paying a $h*tload of money for it – 2 months
* Breaking the house – 2 weeks
* Fixing the house – 1 month
* Finishing touches (euphemistically referred to as The Last Few Little Things) – 3 months

You see? Time.

The old kitchen was just that. Old. Eighteen years old, in fact. Having a kitchen that's old enough to vote is perhaps a clue that a style update is required.

Style considerations aside, however, the old kitchen was proof that MFI kitchens do last for longer than five years, despite the almost desperate attempts by some other so-called premium kitchen companies to convince Alien Wally and Mags otherwise... “Only our kitchens will last longer than ten years.” Oh, really? And, let's guess – that's why we'd have to pay ten times as much for your kitchens, right? Right. Moving on.

Needless to say, Alien Wally and Mags didn't buy from any of these obviously delusional kitchen companies. In spite of the proven durability of the old kitchen, they didn't buy from MFI either, as a result of MFI experiencing a slight wobble known in the industry as Going Out Of Business.

The old kitchen may have outlasted the company that made it. But it couldn't withstand the combined destructive force of Mags and Alien Wally. After Mags had done the hard work of the first hole in the wall, Alien Wally got the easy job of removing the rest of the kitchen.

After which the friendly-neighbourhood-kitchen-contractor-who-lives-down-the-road-and-sometimes-brings-wine-to-make-all-the-chaos-seem-much-easier-to-handle-and-the-bill-easier-to-cope-with took over and made everything all pretty again.

After he'd left and Alien Wally and Mags could restore some order to the house by moving the kitchen out of the dining room and the dining room out of the lounge and the lounge out of the cat basket, they ~~got right to work enthusiastically sorting out all those finishing touches like flooring and beading and painting and hanging pictures~~ collapsed in a heap and didn't do anything until they'd slept for three weeks solid.

Finally, though, it all got done. And, here, at last, to appease the masses, are some pictures:

Highland Fling

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 21:21:00 +0000

Kilts were flying, sporrans bouncing and sgian dubh's flashing. Concealed weapons? Bring 'em on! No, this was not the Battle of Culloden, this was about 20 miles South, where two friends of Mags and Alien Wally were celebrating their Wedding.

Unbeknownst to Mags and Alien Wally, a Scottish wedding (and especially a Highland wedding) is typically celebrated with a Céilidh (kaylee). To paraphrase Wikipedia, "before discos and nightclubs, there was The Céilidh."

Being blissfully unaware what might transpire during the wedding celebrations, Mags and Alien Wally were severely unprepared for the evening's turn of events. Mags' shoes for one were not particularly stable, and Alien Wally felt particularly underdressed even in full-length trousers. Perhaps it was the lack of a handy blade tucked away in a sock that left him feeling nervous.

Fortunately our naive couple were seated with a group of friendly allies more skilled in the arts of war, and with some (not so) gentle encouragement were soon kicking off shoes and jackets and getting down to the serious business of having a really great time.

The following morning Mags and Alien Wally were up surprisingly early to tackle the trip back down to Edinburgh. First stop was to visit the Church where the Wedding ceremony had taken place the day before, in order to get some pictures of what it looked like when it wasn't raining...(note, if you aim to get married in Scotland, plan B is reserved for sunny weather).

The chuch is located right on the River Spey, which must provide a most convenient source of (very) Holy Water.

Just a bit further South, the Cairngorm mountain reaches up to catch the snow, still sporting enough to entice a few late-season skiiers.

Further down the A9, Mags and Alien Wally stopped off at a popular tourist trap to see the 9th highest waterfall in the UK, The Falls Of Bruar. So popular in fact that in 1776, William Gilpin was moved to say
"Scarce worth so long and perpendicular a walk. One of them indeed is a grand fall, but is so naked in its accompaniments that it is of little value."
Well with such a glowing recommendation, how could Mags and Alien Wally not stop by? To be fair, it sounds like the area was pretty barren at the time. What was needed was an awareness drive, a "Save our Falls" campaign, celebrity involvement. Bring on the bard, Rabbie Burns, with his catchily titled poem "The Humble Petition of Bruar Water to the Noble Duke of Atholl".

So inspring that the Duke did more than
"shade the banks wi' tow'ring trees,
And bonnie spreading bushes",
he planted 15 million trees and constructed the two bridges captured here.

With such a prestigious highlight ticked off, there was nothing more to do but head back to Auld Reeky, a mostly uneventful trip made more uneventful by the half-hour traffic jam imposed by road works on the A9 in the middle of a school holiday.

Seven Year Itch

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 18:42:00 +0000

Alien Wally stumbles across a cure for the seven year itch.

Happy Anniversary Mags!

Winter Olympics

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 22:26:00 +0000

The daffodils are blooming, the farmers are out ploughing, it's about time Alien Wally and Mags come out from hibernation. What better way of welcoming Spring than by publishing a collection of Winter pictures?

While the UK experienced their coldest winter for thirteen years, Edinburgh was spared much of the disruption. Despite his pleas to the Great Snow Man in the sky, Alien Wally did not find himself snowed in and unable to make his way to the office. That's not to say that snow didn't fall, Pencaitland had a fair dusting.

While Mags was covering the story from Pencaitland during the day, Alien Wally was in Edinburgh on his lunch hour.

Generally, on days such as these, Alien Wally accepts defeat and drives the car to the nearest station, the idea being that four wheels offer more grip than two. The plan fails however when conditions appear great first thing in the morning, only to start turning white as the day progresses. This is the "oh I'm so happy to climb off this thing now" picture taken by Alien Wally upon his arrival back home; just before what was to be the most treacherous part of the journey - getting the bike up the driveway into the garage.

All this sliding around put ideas into their heads however, and they headed off into the Lammermuir Hills to try out their Winter Sports Skillz.

First up, Alien Wally testing the slopes...

And finally finding his feet.

Next up, Mags demonstrating the cautious start...

But finding her form early on

Some Winter athletes spend thousands of pounds on equipment in an attempt to be the best, but Alien Wally and Mags have just shown that equipment is no substitute for raw talent; an old piece of linoleum flooring recently ripped out from a kitchen is all you need.

With the crowds baaing for more, it was time to head back to a floorless kitchen.

That’s What It’s All About

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 17:20:00 +0000

Ya know, sometimes these things happen. There you are, doing the hokey pokey, and you’ve managed to put your left arm in and your left arm out. You’ve managed to shake it all about. And then… it’s time to put your tongue in, which is the same thing as putting your tongue out, and then it all starts to get a bit confusing – is your tongue in when it’s out, or out when it’s in?

And then your brain freezes and you totally forget what you were doing in the first place and you wonder why the paparazzi are taking pictures of you. Must be because you’re so cute.

Joy To The World!

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 21:23:00 +0000

Ah, how can one remain grumpy when confronted with a picture of such pure bliss? Nothing like the euphoric effects of hard drugs to lift the spirits - and this with just a quarter of the suggested amount of catnip added to a certain Christmas toy.

Alien Wally and Mags would like to wish everyone a very Happy Christmas, and hope that it rivals the MacNoodle's for sheer tongue-lolling contentment. Just remember to tuck yours back in.

Game Review: Hunt The Hot Water Valve

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 17:37:00 +0000

A fun game to play, particularly in the Winter when the stakes are higher, however having not yet completed it, this reviewer is forced to give it a low 3/10.

The story begins with the player performing what should be a relatively straightforward task - removing a radiator from the wall in order to redecorate. Things get complicated however when this causes a leak in the central heating system. Having drained the central heating system, repaired the leak and restarted the system with the help of a future contractor, things seem to be back to normal. However, this wouldn't be much of a plot if this was the case, so the player awakes the next day with a raging hangover from an office end of year function only to discover that while the central heating works, there is no hot water in the house. Cue more assistance from the future contractor, who sends the player on a hunt for motorised valves that should control hot water to the hot water cylinder.

Most of the gameplay involves wielding a crowbar or similar tool of mass destruction, ripping open floors and tearing down walls looking for the elusive motorised valves. Things are made more interesting by the player not actually knowing exactly what these valves look like, beyond the fact that they must be located on one of the central heating pipes.

The only saving grace to this game, and the reason why it scores 3 instead of 0 out of 10, is its realism. Aside from superb graphics and realistic sound effects, the in-game characters really bring things to life. From nagging wife complaining about cold baths to spooked cat getting underfoot while crowbars are swinging, it's all been included. Here are some screenshots highlighting the level of detail:

The utility room: oh well, the floor needed to come up anyway.

The bathroom: located an access hatch that was covered over by a layer of tongue-and-groove panelling, but no valves.

In summary, an entertaining game involving much destruction, however little satisfaction is gained, and this reviewer has yet to complete it. He predicts the forums to be buzzing with gamers trying to find out how to complete it, that's if anyone else actually buys it since he definitely cannot recommend it.

A Month in Retrospect

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 14:59:00 +0000

After taking time off posting, Alien Wally has decided to upload a few pictures taken over the last month in an attempt to appease the masses of readers clamouring for updates.

It seems Alien Wally and Mags took a walk up the River Esk, which winds through Musselburgh. This is all news to Alien Wally, who is gradually developing the memory of a goldfish.

He does remember the hedgehog coming to visit though. Striding across the lawn in the middle of the day (aren't they supposed to be nocturnal?), the hog came face to face with the lens of Alien Wally's camera. In a cunning move, the hog sneakily shut its eyes and hunched down, thus making it entirely invisible to its foe.

It remained in this position until it detected that the predator had given up all hope of finding it again, whereupon it turned around and made a hasty escape.

After a couple of snowflakes descended upon the garden, Alien Wally and Mags thought they would find loads of snow on higher ground, and headed up to the Hopetoun Monument just outside Haddington. Alas, apart from this pocket of snow, there was none to be seen even from the vantage point afforded by the top of the monument.

Christmas snuck into Edinburgh while no-one was watching. Alien Wally and Mags headed into town on the train last weekend to see the lights, and sample the yuletide ale offered from an authentic mock-up of a German Christmas market that seems to spring up every year on Princes Street.

And then came the real snow. Last Tuesday the skies opened and deposited a full 1 centimetre of snow on the ground. Alright, not all that impressive, however it has to be said that snow rarely sits on the ground in Edinburgh, so it was quite a novelty for Alien Wally to have to scrape snow off the car the next morning before driving up to the station. It was slightly less novel when he got back from work and had to scrape more ice off the car before heading home, and possibly even less novel when he couldn't open the door the morning after because it had been frozen shut.

A Typical Day At The Office

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 15:35:00 +0000

09:30... Rub head repeatedly against corner of monitor while purring loudly. Try to get Mags to stare into my eyes rather than the computer screen. Paaayy meeee atttennntionnnnn! Want second breakfast!

11:00... Cat onnahead onnamat onnadesk innaoffice. Is winter. Is cold.

14:00... Pour heaps of scorn on impertinent birdies in tree outside office window.

14:05... Pour heaps of scorn on Mags for not doing something about the impertinent birdies.

15:00... Have forgiven Mags. Now is cuddletime on Mags' lap. Warm here. Big purr.

.

More HDR

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 22:43:00 +0000

Another HDR experiment, based on five pictures taken on Friday at lunchtime. Deadlines at work and DIY around the house has taken precedence over pic of the day, which is likely to be slightly sporadic over the next few weeks unfortunately.

Proof That Our Parents Don’t Really Read Our Blog?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 06:25:00 +0000

Alien Wally and Mags are convinced that their parents don’t really read this blog. After all, if they did, surely they would have commented on this series of pictures?

By “commented”, Mags doesn’t mean write a comment on this actual blog, although that would have been an option. After expecting some sort of reaction – emails full of exclamation marks, phone calls full of verbal exclamation marks, heck, even a carrier pigeon come to poop on their heads – Alien Wally and Mags feel rather disappointed.

It can’t be them, of course. Oblique? Never. Nevaaah. Those pics-of-the-day were as clear as, well, day.

But, just in case this is one of those “it’s not you, it’s us” moments, here’s a more obvious picture.

If this doesn’t elicit any kind of appropriate parental response, well, then… consider that proof of parental neglect, and the appropriate authorities will be informed. Don’t y’all know that children need some discipline and boundaries? Otherwise they go out and do things like buy motorbikes. Oh. Wait… too late.

This, by the way, is Charlie. Alien Wally didn’t want to name his bike, but Mags insisted that Ruby’s new brother be called something. Why Charlie? Well, he’s a Honda CBF600… in phonetic terms, that’s Mr Charlie “Bravo” Foxtrot to y’all. Well, except to Alien Wally, that is. He still refers to Charlie as simply “the bike”. How boring. But, not oblique. Nevaaah.

Down (And Up!) In Durham

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 18:33:00 +0000

Not so bright, but definitely early on Saturday morning, Alien Wally and Mags left Scotland to once again do some raiding across the border in England. Their destination this time: Hogwarts!

Oh, no, wait… that’s just one of the bridges used for the Hogwarts Express. In. The. Movie. In reality, Alien Wally and Mags went to Durham, which turned out to be a surprising and magical place after all.

Although Durham is just south-west of Newcastle, Alien Wally and Mags decided to take a different route to the one they had previously used to go down south so that they could drive through and experience the Northumberland National Park.

And what an experience that was! Mags is sure the Park is beautiful at all times of the year, but it was certainly breath-taking at sunrise on a clear Autumn day, with snow on the mountain peaks (um, large hill tops?).

Snow? Yes, folks, it’s been cold and icy here in these climes, and both England and Scotland have had some snow. In addition to the snow on the hill tops, the ground was also covered in frost.

And then they hit the ice on the roads. Mags means that literally, as Ruby skidded around a corner, her wheels losing grip on the icy surface. For the sake of mommies everywhere, and particularly those belonging to Mags and Alien Wally, Mags would like to state that the previous sentence has been slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect. Alien Wally and Mags were driving cautiously to begin with, which (together with Alien Wally’s skillful handling of the car) resulted in a fairly sedate and controlled slide around the icy corner. Other mommies’ children, however, were not so cautious it seems – upon sliding around the corner, Alien Wally and Mags were faced with not one, not even two, but three cars that had slid off the road and plowed into the embankments at various points.

This trail of carnage continued for the next thirty or so miles. Throughout this section of the journey, Alien Wally and Mags joined a queue of cars driving in a slow-moving and reverent line behind the almighty Gritting Machine, as it made the roads safe for all drivers ever more and amen. The procession paid their respects along the way to the many cars that had gone before The Coming Of The Gritter, cars strewn across the landscape without bumpers, owners standing forlornly next to them awaiting rescue from the many police cars and tow trucks busy mopping up the mess and escorting folks through the treacherous countryside.

Finally Durham was reached, and our conquering heroes made their way through the pretty city, across the bridge and up the hill to Durham Cathedral.

If any cathedral deserves top marks for presentation and style, this is it – from the moment you spot it from down below, to the sight of this large structure sitting pretty across the green before it, Durham Cathedral makes a statement. Unfortunately, no pictures could be taken inside, so you’ll have to take Alien Wally and Mags’ word for it that the inside of the cathedral is even more impressive than the outside.

Like Yorkminster, Durham Cathedral allows visitors to climb to the top of its tower for a bird’s eye view of the city. Had to be done of course, although Mags had a moment of panic when she read the official blurb promising narrow spiral staircases and more steps than the Scott Monument (325 versus 287 to be exact!). Luckily, claims of narrowness were exaggerated much to Mags’ relief – claustrophobia in addition to fear of heights is not a good combination! They weren’t kidding on the 325 steps though, and it was a long way to the top. As always, though, the views were worth it. This is why Mags does this to herself.

Edinburgh in HDR

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 22:17:00 +0000

Alien Wally's first attempt at HDR photography. Since he's not yet prepared to lay out cash for professional software, he's using a free basic version of FDRTools. Depending on his future successes, you may or may not see a few more of these.

Morning Mags

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 21:59:00 +0000

Ah, the golden rays of morning touching the radiant features of Mags. Note the return of the beanie; with the dusting of snow that was covering the hilltops on the way down to Durham, this was more necessity than luxury. And yes, Alien Wally is shamelessly recycling pics taken over the weekend.

End Of The Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 21:35:00 +0000

A superb day to end the weekend on, although the MacNoodle household didn't get much chance to make good with the weather what with all the DIY needing to take place. That said, the puddles of water on the kayak outside never truly defrosted, so staying indoors mostly was probably not a bad idea.

On Top

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 21:52:00 +0000

Alien Wally will leave the extended blurb to Mags, however here they are on top of Durham Cathedral, after a day's raiding South of the border.

Halloween Costume

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 21:36:00 +0000

Oh wait, he always looks like that.

The Cube

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 22:13:00 +0000

"So, we're developing a new office block. It will be big and square. What shall we call it? Anyone? Hey, how about... The Cube!"
Creativity must have been at an all time low at that meeting. Maybe it was inspired by the monstrosity that is the St James Centre which is directly across the road. Alien Wally is taking what could be his last chance to get a picture of the monuments on Calton Hill from this position. No doubt one day he'll end up working in a cubicle inside The Cube for his sins.

Broughton St Mary's

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 20:14:00 +0000

Just down the road from work, Alien Wally stopped to take this picture while on an emergency run to Tesco for more coffee.

Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 21:23:00 +0000

Self Portrait

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 22:20:00 +0000

Objects In The Rear View Mirror

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 18:54:00 +0000

Autumn Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Alien Wally) — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 21:00:00 +0000

Possibly the last day of Autumn depending on how one measures these things. The clocks in the UK revert back to GMT from tomorrow, certainly an indication that Winter is bearing down on the MacNoodle household.