It might be just me that has only just realised this, so if that’s the case, be gentle with me, OK?

But I do think it neat that the Olympics this year will start on the 8th August.

Why? Because it makes the start date

08/08/08

Even neater, that works for both UK and US date formats (day/month or month/day)

It’s just neat, that’s all.

Last night, as blogged about elsewhere, we had a heavy dollop of thunder and lightning (plus rain) at about 3am.

Now, where Hound is concerned, Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” this weather described perfectly.

Thunder and lightning
Very very fright’ning

So at 3am, we were both awake with a Hound lying under the bed, terrified, and attempting to burrow through the skirting board and escape that way. The fact that if she ever did get through the wall, she’d be outside and stuck in all the thunder and rain has never quite sunk in. Every single flash of lightning that came, whang, she’s burrowing again.

Bizarrely, we have found one thing that seems to work with the idiot furbag, and that’s having me keep on talking to her, reassuring her that we’re there, not going anywhere, and that (despite her insistence otherwise) everything is actually OK, and she doesn’t need to worry. Or burrow. So long as I keep on talking to the four-legged bollock-brain, she’s OK, and doesn’t scratch/burrow.

Of course, that also means that I have to stay awake through the duration of the storm, and through the other side ’til she comes down from her orbital plane. So I finally got back to semi-decent sleep somewhere south of 4am.

When the alarm went off at 5.15, I just ended up deciding I wasn’t safe to walk, let alone drive the two hour journey to Essex. So I re-set the alarm for an hour later, and shifted myself when it went off again. It means that right now I look like someone’s beaten me up, the under-eye luggage is so serious, and I’ve still got another two-hour journey home to go.

Should be interesting.

I don’t know exactly why (other than that it’s something which runs in our family) but in summer, I’m apparently exceptionally tasty to all forms of insect – particularly gnats, mosquitos and bastard horseflies (to give them their proper name) but really any biting bug will have a go at me.

Over the weekend, I got bitten by several of the aforementioned bastard fucking bugs, including one bite on the base of my left thumb. It’s that one that today is causing me real hassle – not least because of course I am left handed.

You see, with me the bites aren’t the only thing. The area round the bite swells up into a solid lump of lymph fluid and gubbins, which makes the entire thing even less fun. And in particular, it’s making the entire of the base of my left hand (i.e. the thumb and wrist area) really stiff and painful.

It’ll wear off after a day or so, but right now it’s driving me utterly fucking bananas.

So, another year, and another Tour de France has completed, with Carlos Sastre as the winner for the first time – the third consecutive Spaniard to win.

I’m not an avid cyclist by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been a fan of the Tour de France for many, many years. I don’t even really know why – it’s just something where I find the sheer achievement of each and every rider in the competition to be absolutely fantastic.

Seeing the stages (and particularly the climbs) that the riders do, knowing that they’re riding on average 166kilometres (about 103 miles) per day for 21 days, and seeing the way they still can sprint to a finish at the end of that immense day’s mileage, that’s just truly impressive.

So I don’t quite know why I’m such a fan, but every year, I’ll be watching the Tour de France, regardless. And will consistently be in awe of these guys who complete – or even compete in – such a fantastically exhausting event.

Another day, another job at the house completed.

Why is it that we always pick the hottest days to do the hardest work? Today it’s been about carrying railway sleepers round to the back of the house, and screwing them together to make a raised bed for a herb garden for Herself. Get me, Mr Domestic.

It’ll be worth it, though – it looks good, and now we just need to plant all the herbs.

We’ve got chives, lemon verbena, thyme, mint, rosemary, catmint (should keep the animals away from the rest of it) and oregano for starters, so we’ll just see how they get on. Should be fine in their new home, I’m sure, and it’ll be good to see them all growing.

Today we’ve been sorting out a new bigger, better chicken run. Putting in the metposts and fence posts, and lining the perimeter with 6 foot high chicken wire.

All told, it’s (roughly) 40′ x 20′. I haven’t measured it exactly, so that’ll have to do you.

Of course, the downside of them having this much larger fully-enclosed run is that Herself now wants two or three more chickens…