EV Battery Low

Tonight I learned that when my electric car gets down to 5% battery, it sounds an alarm.
And that when it gets down to 4% battery, it sounds a louder alarm.
And that when it gets down to 3% battery, it engages ‘limited performance’ mode and shows a picture of a tortoise.
And that when it gets down to 2%, and you’ve already turned off the heating and the radio and you’re wondering how much power the windscreen wipers are using… that’s when it stops showing you it’s estimated range.
Fortunately, I then only had half a mile left to go. But for a while there it felt a little bit hairy!

Electronic car dashboard showing 3% battery, a 'limited performance' warning, and an icon of a turtle in a yellow circle.

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Note #27940

Bitterly cold and starkly beautiful, this morning: West Oxfordshire is blanketed in an impenetrably thick freezing fog.

It’s quite pretty, though I’m regretting not bringing my gloves out with me!

Tree-flanked fields almost impossible to discern through a blanket of thick white fog.

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Note #27906

The younger kids’ taekwondo school put on a free ‘new years workout’ class this morning. It was pretty awesome.

My watch says my heart rate averaged 146bpm, peaking at 169bpm. It’s possible I’m not as fit as I used to be. 😅

But at least I don’t feel like I might die, like I did during the ‘dads go free’ promotion last year. Progress?

In a gym environment with punchbags visible in the background Dan, a white man wearing a black t-shirt, throws a right jab, alongside others who are doing the same.

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Bee

As part of my efforts to reclaim the living room from the children, I’m building a new gaming PC for the playroom. She’s called Bee, and – thanks to the absolute insanity that is The Tower 300 case from Thermaltake – she’s one of the most bonkers PC cases I’ve ever worked in.

On a desk cluttered with computer parts, a partially-built PC stands in an irregular-hexagonal prism shaped case with vented yellow sides and a three-pane angled glass front.

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Invisible Dog

Our dog has decided that the perfect place to lie down at our holiday accommodation is… on a staircase whose carpet is the same colour as her!

I’m grateful for her very-visible blep… or I’d have tripped over this camouflaged pupper several times already!

A champagne-coloured French Bulldog lies on a step of a staircase carpeted in the same colour as herself, u her tongue in medium-blep.

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Note #27826

I think the dog’s back paws were cold this evening. The giveaway was when she tucked them into a convenient nearby trouser pocket.

A sleeping French Bulldog lies on her side with her back paws tucked into the trouser pocket of a human sitting near her.

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Slamiltee at the Lycaeum

Went to a West End theatre wearing my “Slamilton” t-shirt.

In this corridor, during the act break, a stranger spotted it and did a double-take.

“Is that…? wait… that’s not Hamilton!”, they said.

I seized my chance.

“It’s Slamilton,” I replied. “You know: ‘Who slams, who jams, who tells their story.'”

And then, after a pause: “What’s ‘Hamilton’???”

Dan, a white man with a goatee beard and a blue ponytail, wears a 'Slamilton' t-shirt in a theatre stairwell.

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Note #27808

Unusually, we had no guests this Christmas Day. This meant that my usual level of overcatering went even further than normal.

A side effect of this is that a certain little doggo was delighted and surprised by her Boxing Day breakfast of roast goose!

A champagne-coloured French Bulldog kicks her lips excitedly alongside a bowl full of chunks of roast meat.

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Note #27806

I asked the younger child to “help” me calculate how much Yorkshire pudding batter to make for this Christmas dinner.

Dan, a white man with a beard and blue hair, wearing a WordPress-themed Christmas jumper, beats a bowl of batter.

“Well,” he began, “I’m going to want FIVE Yorkshire puddings, soo…”

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Duck shunning

I’m not sure which of our children was last in this bath, but the configuration in which they’ve left their toys makes me feel as though I’m the subject of some kind of waterfowl-related shunning.

Perhaps they finally got wind or my heretical opinions on the God of Ducks (may he throw us bread) and they’ve collectively decided to disassociate from me?

Four thematic rubber ducks sit along the edge of a fitted white bathtub, seemingly deliberate in their placement which sees them facing directly away from the bather and towards various shampoo bottles and a candle in a glass.

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Note #27761

A few pockets of the morning’s freezing fog still cling to the hedgerows as the dog and I set out on a chilly West Oxfordshire morning walk.

A French Bulldog trots along a concrete slab farm track alongside fallow fields bordered by mist, hedges, and distant flanking hills.

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