The longer one hangs onto this crazy third rock from the sun the stranger things you see. It is probably a statistical anomaly. An infinite number of whatever trying to make a living. Something like that.

Yesterday was certainly one of the stranger things I’ve seen. We went out for lunch, as we old age pensioners do from time to time. As I turned onto the farm where the restaurant is situated I was greeted by…well a T.Rex. There are many things wrong with this site. Perhaps the most geeky is that even in its pomp T.Rex never walked over this land. We are closer to the T.Rex in geological time than the rocks it was standing on. I told you this was a bit geeky.

Of course such geological niceties didn’t bother Michael Crichton when he wrote the original book that spawned the model in the middle distance. Crichton’s influence on the day hadn’t finished.

Near to the restaurant there was a very sad looking Wild West recreation. I was going to type Westworld but somehow I don’t see Dolores Abernathy riding into this particular town. I suspect when the set is dressed up, it may well look a whole lot better than on a damp, dull winter’s day. The people that own and run Cattows are nothing if not inventive.