Weeknotes: 2026-W35

24th August - 30th August The combination of a giant honey-coloured moon and distant light pollution reflecting off the sparse cloud cover means, even without streetlights, it's just about light enough to walk at night without a torch. An electrical storm fakes midday in half second bursts while divine chariots rumble across the firmament. I'm working late, punching broken code and thinking of off-grid spoon whittling, and get a front row seat from my desk. By morning the rain has come. Everything is quiet and calm and cold, just the wet slap of rain on the leaves. There's an angry or distressed squirrel in a tree making a noise like a human newborn — quite disturbing. The local artisan market has had the worst luck with the weather this year; unprecedented heatwave after unprecedented heatwave but rain every last Sunday of the month. I bought a grey cotton jacket from a charity shop that my wife says I'll never wear. It's really comfortable so, partly out of stubborn spite, I wear it…