Stats again

I noticed, today, that around this time for a few years, I’ve posted my highest viewed titles. This had me looking at statistics for a bit. And it turns out that my highest viewed post is the biographical piece, Turnbull of Whitby [894 views]. Then comes Through the keyhole [695] followed by the James Bond post The end of Skyfall? [604].

I don’t know why the other two are so popular but, a DuckDuckGo search for ‘Turnbull of Whitby’ does have my blog come up as the first result. Now, why people are searching for Turnbull of Whitby is a question I have no answer for.

While my day was not filled with very much, I didn’t just look at statistics and wonder about people’s searching habits. Because I was alone for the day while Mirinda had her first Swedish class (in Stockholm), followed by the ballet, I was in charge of the dogs. While meant a walk around the block after lunch.

Last night’s sudden and unexpected snowfall had left everything white and scunchy under foot. Not to mention a bit slippy in parts.

Though, Mirinda reported that it was a lot more slippy in Stockholm. I’m glad I was here in that case. The dogs, I think, would have preferred Mirinda who takes them for nice, long walks in the woods while they have to put up with around the block with me.

Unlike other days, I didn’t see many people on our walk. A guy with a stick at a distance and a quite slow jogger was it. I did hear the ice cream seller but didn’t see the van at all. A shame because I may have been tempted to buy some. Unlike the surprise visitor I had late on.

A very nice young chap tip tapped at the front door and, having established I was actually not Swedish, spoke to me in perfect English about how he and his friends were planning a trek in the summer and, to fund the enterprise, were selling bamboo products door to door. He showed me his tray of goods which, I admit, I initially thought were ice creams.

Sadly, I had to tell him I was travelling and, nice as his products were, they wouldn’t fit in my luggage. He almost had me with”Not even a pair of socks?” but I held strong. Of course, while my excuse was true, I am also trying not to buy stuff I don’t need.

He seemed happy enough as he bounced down the slippy steps. Show off.

In passing, the nice young chap asked me where I was from. I said Surrey. He thought I said Sorry and so repeated the question. This went on for a bit and made me laugh later when I repeated it to Mirinda. I thought it worth repeating here.

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