Saturday morning I was up ahead of the spouse and decided to run to the City to pick up some things at the Bull Ring Markets and tick Moor Street Station off the Rail Run List. Seventeen now remain.
Sticking as much as practical to never-before-seen streets (or, if that was onerous, to ones new to this project) I was reminded of the passage of time (“like sands through the hourglass so are the days of our lives” as MacDonald Carey would say).
The days of this badger’s life ended sometime this week. At first I thought it was a racoon but I remembered those aren’t really a thing, here. This would have been an especially huge one, even without the bloating.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 