dance me to the end of love

Despite the bleak subtext, these are some wonderful lyrics.

Lots of men out on their bicycles today rather than spending time with their beloveds (unless of course they've got some weird fetish thing going on); I also went cycling (52 miles ... that's over a quarter of my total distance so far this year, shamefully enough) though my faith in humanity was restored watching a young couple sharing a bag of chips on Harwich quayside.

the bookhouse tortoise

I've been neglecting most things recently, in the quest to write chapter 5 (now handed in), but I was perhaps most guilty about not giving Audrey enough attention. So today I moved her into her new house: it still needs a few things adding to it (the window, the roof), but she seems happy enough with it, if a little chilly for now...

...also, wonderful big Galapagos tortoises on the news at lunchtime in celebration of the Darwin bicentenary. And here's Lonesome George.

they can't play cricket, no no

After following the slow rhythms of the first Test in Jamaica for the past four days, I feel somewhat cheated by England's performance today, throwing away the match in a couple of crazy hours. However, massive credit to the Windies, who seem to be gelling into a rather attractive team of late. Meanwhile, England are becoming somewhat of a chore to follow: I can put up with crappy performances, but the off-field squabbles are really irritating, given they're essentially making a lot of money playing a game for a living. Ho hum.

Chapter 5 (see last blog post) is still in progress - I'm proofing it right now and still have to write a conclusion. The past 5 weeks have been hell, as I've been suffering massively from writer's block. Still, by the end of tonight, I should have 72,000 words of the thesis pretty much done. 28,000 to go. 4 months to do them in. Then there's all those jobs out ther- oh.