Octopus.

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Yesterday I cycled to the seaside. Then I cycled home again. A total of 137km. I did this for no particular reason, but it gave me the ideal opportunity to calibrate my altimeter.

Calibrate my altimeter.

That should really be some kind of euphemism, but it isn’t. I’m just nerdy enough to own a GPS with an altimeter, and can only be totally happy if I’m certain it knows exactly what altitude we’re at. We being me and my GPS.

So today I made two focaccia, a giant birthday cake, and enough kidney bean and aubergine stew to feed the rest of Lincoln, and I did all this at an altitude of 73 metres above sea level. This is because my kitchen is on the first floor. I’m just a modern kinda guy yah know.

I’m also quite odd. And I don’t think my brain sees things in quite the same way add other people’s brains do. Because I saw an octopus in the cake mix when I finished mixing it. Well. Actually, I saw half an octopus, and felt compelled to give it legs. After all, an octopus without legs is just an opus, which doesn’t mean anything.

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