On Saturday a very small collarless tortoiseshell kitten with a big fluffy tail came into the back garden and sat for a while outside the patio doors, mewing and chasing insects and doing all the other things cats do when they're doing the "I'm helpless, look after me!" thing. Eventually it went away, for I am hard-hearted! Yes I am! We did briefly consider taking it over to Jo's, but that would make her two cats mad and we couldn't have that. It was cuter than most of the kittens here, anyway, so I expect it'll find a home.
Fiction continues to melt into real life as The Invisible Man's method for monitoring his drug levels migrates to reality in this tale of tattooing diabetic rats.
And speaking of which, I also discovered (while looking for notable dates in September and yes for work reasons) what happens when philosophers and physicians go psychogeographical. "The 1th (Onthe pronounced "wunth") UK Conference on the Findations of Psycho-Physics will function as interference to the 11th UK Conference on the Foundations of Physics, with the aim of creating a state of entanglement." Mmmm, tangly.
Also, swans are dangerous, though not as dangerous as cars.