One of the things my friend and I collect, on the occasions when we're out walking and not getting drenched, is varieties of children's bicycle seats in this town. Separately and together, we've seen covered buggies being towed behind cycles; add-on wheels and handlebars that basically make a miniature bike for a child behind his or her parent; fairly standard sit-behind-parent childseats; seats that put a child in front of his/her parents, at the handlebars, facing away from said parent; and seats that look just like a wicker bike basket, but for the fact that children sit in them (and have a little place for their feet to drop down in), facing their parents. Today, walking to town to look for a rain jacket (something that isn't going to bankrupt me after all, thanks to the discount outdoor gear store), I was passed by a mother and child on a bicycle (with standard ride-behind childseat), and the child was calling out, "Wheeeee!" Good times.

Sometimes, walking along, I'll see a cyclist approaching me, and I'll hear a little voice (obviously not hers) talking, but I won't see a child until after the cycle passes me. Those occasions still confuse me momentarily, even after this many weeks of living here.

On my way home from my walk, I was grateful for having upbraided myself as I left the flat. Just about to leave without my umbrella, I said to myself, "Were you not there when you got soaked two days ago?" I took the umbrella. When I was still a good way from home, it started to drizzle. Then, the skies opened. The sun hadn't gone away at all; it was just pouring. And you know what that means. Here's the University Library (aka the UL), in all its weather-granted finery.