March 19, 2022
A restful, salacious but boring Bothwell day.
A Bothwell sleep in
We had a fire roaring in our stone house last night, made pizzas and dozed off watching the footy. Our 19th century workers cottage is beautifully restored and comfortable but for 193cm Pete, he has to duck into every doorway and limbo under the light fittings.
We wandered out to see what was open in Bothwell on a Saturday morning. Not much! But there was a CWA stall set up opposite the park with 6 women ready to serve the teaming crowd they were expecting. I could not see a soul around and it was 9.30 on a picture perfect day. We bought a date loaf, Anzac biscuits and chocolate brownies and perused the 18 books they had for sale.
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We found a general store/cafe in a side street that made decent coffee and home made food so we returned there for lunch as well. The afternoon was about washing clothes, snoozing and reading the papers.
The article I found most interesting in the Herald referenced a study published in the personal and social psychology bulletin about what made a person to be perceived as boring. I googled the article and found it fascinating. I won’t bore you with the details but essentially they examined the stereotypical features of boring others by having people generate (Study 1) and then rate ( study 2) these. They focused on 3 occupations (data analytics, taxation and accountants) and pastimes of sleeping, religion and watching TV, and personal characteristics of being negative, lacking humour and opinions. The results suggest that being stereotyped as a bore may come with substantially negative interpersonal consequences. As I said….fascinating.
I rode around town for a little bit. Here are the highlights. I called into the Bothwell sports ground where the mighty Bothwell Sheep were taking on the Alde Beach Bullants in the one day final.
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I then had a cornetto at the petrol station whilst perusing the deer hunting and shooting magazines. Then I almost ran over a tiger snake basking on the main highway through town before passing a sign on a gate to a run down property which said ‘We don’t call 000’ and had a rifle just under said sign. Nice.
Dinner was at the Castle Hotel, and despite Lyn from the Ouse pub bagging the fare, the lamb shanks we had were fall off the bone delicious.
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My favourite photos of the past week.
Today's ride: 4 km (2 miles)
Total: 498 km (309 miles)
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