Lulu Belle

I didn't get out of bed to be mediocre
Petrolhead. Coffee lover. Recently diagnosed with PSP (progressive supra nuclear palsy) never heard of it before either.

[TheMoustacheCop @CopMoustache]

Walking to a friends today, he’s having a BBQ / celebration, over the last 12 months he’s had a battle with the big C, he rang the bell a couple of weeks ago.

Good times and trees, what more do you want from life 😊😊#TreeClub

[Massimo @Rainmaker1973]

Elsie Allcock, the woman who has lived in the same house for 104 years.

[Science Magazine @ScienceExpand]

Whenever you feel lonely, remember that your white blood cells are fighting like this for your health..

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

Every neighborhood in Japan
has a tiny police station on the corner.

One officer. Sometimes two.
A room the size of a closet.
It is called a koban.

He knows the woman who runs the flower shop.
He knows which grandfather forgets his way home.
He knows the kids on this street by name.

When you are lost,
he draws you a map by hand.
When your bicycle is stolen,
he apologizes as if he took it himself.
When you drop your wallet,
he sometimes calls you
before you notice it is gone.

There are over 6,000 of these tiny boxes across Japan.

Other countries build one big station
in the middle of nowhere.

Japan puts a lamp above your walking route
and lights it every night.

That is the difference.

[Mel Gibson @MelGibson_1th]

Who was most handsome back then!

Me: Mel Gibson

[Cultural Institute - Swansea University @Culture_SwanUni]

📚 We'll be launching this year's brilliant 2026 Rhys Davies Short Story Award Anthology (Parthian Books) on Wednesday 28th October at 6pm at @swanseastones.

Get your FREE tickets here: https://t.co/2h7oDX1r6G

[Pop Waves @popwavesx]

When Benedict Cumberbatch and Jimmy Fallon completely lose character! 😂

[Massimo @Rainmaker1973]

30,000 hours of footage, equivalent to 3 years and 7 months, were filmed to capture the blooming of 77 types of flowers, and the result is spectacular.

[Fesshole🧻 @fesshole]

Friends and coworkers asked why I was limping. Couldn't tell them I literally slipped on a banana peel and fell. It hurt like hell and I can't be arsed with cartoon jokes.

[Lulu Belle @whitehotmama]

@Sofia50020Sofia I f you are from Cornwall it's a turnip and it's a swede, if you are from the rest of the country.

[TheMoustacheCop @CopMoustache]

Funny how things catch you out

Sat in the office earlier, radio playing in the background

I realize it’s “imagine” by John Lennon

Last time I heard It i was carrying dads coffin a couple of months ago, his favorite song

Had stand in the car park for a few minutes 🥹🥹

[Nature Unedited @NatureUnedited]

Today I learned rabbits can swim. Even better: their ears fold back into swim mode. I feel this information deserved to be shared

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

Nelson brayed on Wednesday, which he has done twice in his life, and both previous times it was about hay.

This was not about hay.

You have to understand Nelson to understand the size of it. He is a small grey donkey who came free with a horse and has spent every day since assessing the world and finding almost none of it worth a reaction. A pheasant out of the hedge: beneath comment. A carrier bag on the wind: management's problem. The farrier, the vet, Martin the postman at the gate every single morning: all filed, long ago, under fine. Nelson does not spend adrenaline. He has a lifetime's supply precisely because he has never once dipped into it for anything that did not concern the hay.

Hector is the one who comes apart. Seventeen years a Cavalry Black, seventeen hands of trained composure, and still, in a quiet field, undone by small things with no rules to them. And undone completely, every time, by the one thing that has never had a rule: Nelson leaving the field.

On Wednesday it was the other way round.

Hector went down in the morning and did not get up cleanly. Nothing dramatic to look at, a big old horse struggling on wet ground to fold his legs back under him, the way big old horses sometimes do, more indignity than danger. But he was down, and he was working at it, and he was not managing it, and the field was suddenly a place where the large warm reliable thing was not upright.

Nelson stood over him.

Then Nelson, who assesses everything and hurries for nothing and does not raise the alarm because in his considered view nothing is ever worth waking a tired horse for, raised the alarm. The full cracked bugle of it, flung down the lane, on and on, a donkey who does not do this doing this, until the farmer came out of the house at a run, because a silent donkey suddenly loud means something is wrong in a way a noisy one never could.

The farmer got Hector up. It was fine. It was, in the end, a big horse and a bad patch of ground and a bruised dignity, nothing more.

Nelson stopped the moment Hector was on his feet.

He has not mentioned it since. He went back to the hay. He has assessed the incident and, by every sign available, filed it under dealt with.

But he broke his own rule for it. In a whole life of spending no adrenaline on anything, he spent all of it at once, on the one thing he has never admitted to caring about.

Hector is grazing this morning, upright, enormous, fine.

Nelson is beside him, in the dry corner, first at the hay, saying nothing.

He would tell you it was about the hay.

[Fesshole🧻 @fesshole]

I'm a PA. One of my jobs is to authorise expenses for a department of 30. You won't be shocked to know there is a direct correlation between what people eat & their performance. High performers: healthy food/snacks & water. Low performers & lazy fucks: Greggs, energy drinks, beer

[Massimo @Rainmaker1973]

Carrots were originally purple, white, yellow, and red.

The orange carrots we know today became popular after Dutch farmers selectively bred them in the 16th–17th centuries.

[🎩Laird of the Manor🎩 @LairdOfThManor]

Torpenhow Hill, England

When the Saxons arrived and asked the locals what that hill was called, the Welsh replied, “Pen,” which simply means hill in Welsh.

The Saxons, apparently not spotting they’d already been given the full answer, added their own word for hill: tor. So it became Torpen - literally Hill Hill.

A few centuries later, the Norse turned up and repeated the exercise, adding haugr, their word for hill. Now it was effectively Torpenhaugr - Hill Hill Hill.

Then the English arrived, looked at the whole thing, shrugged, and added “Hill” on the end for good measure.

Thus we ended up with Torpenhow Hill:
Hill Hill Hill Hill.

It’s comforting to know that for over a thousand years, successive generations have been independently deciding that the previous lot hadn’t made it quite clear enough that it was, in fact, a hill.

Language is magnificent.
Humans… less so.🤷🏻‍♂️🤣

[Amazing Physics @amazing_physics]

After 9 years… and 3 BILLION miles… this is what we found 😳

For decades, Pluto was just a blurry dot in the sky.
But everything changed when NASA’s spacecraft finally arrived…

🚀 After an incredible journey across the Solar System,
we got our first close-up look at Pluto’s frozen world ❄️

🏔️ Massive ice mountains
🌌 Vast frozen plains
🌫️ A thin, mysterious atmosphere

This isn’t just a rock…
it’s a complex, active world at the edge of our Solar System.

✨ And the craziest part?
This data was sent back from billions of miles away…
taking hours just to reach Earth.

From a tiny dot… to a breathtaking world.

That’s the power of space exploration 🚀
#Pluto #NASA #SpaceExploration #NewHorizons #SolarSystem #Astronomy #Universe #Science #SpaceFacts #DeepSpace

[Sama Hoole @SamaHoole]

On a hillside this summer, a man will pay good money to take the coat off a sheep, then watch that coat earn him almost nothing at all.

This is the wool trade now. A thing his great grandfather built a life on, worn down to a chore he runs at a loss.

So look at the maths square in the face. It costs him around two pounds to shear one ewe. The fleece that comes off her, even now, in the best year for a decade, brings back about a pound and a half if she is a fine crossbred. If she is a hill sheep, a Welsh Mountain or a Swaledale, he might get thirty pence for the whole fleece. British Wool says the price would have to nearly double again just to cover the shearing.

So every sheep he clips, he loses on. And he has to clip every one.

A sheep left in her fleece overheats, cannot walk right, and gets eaten alive by maggots. The wool has to come off, for her sake, whatever it is worth. He pays, quite literally, for the privilege of being kind to his own animals.

Now feel the weight of what we have let go.

Wool once made this country rich. Whole towns were built on the back of it, and the great wool churches still standing across the Cotswolds were paid for with it. To this day the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords sits on a woolsack, set there centuries ago so nobody in the room would forget where England's wealth came from.

A fleece was worth fourteen pounds a kilo in the 1950s. The wool cheque, in his father's day, paid the rent for the year.

Today it will not cover the diesel to deliver it.

And so, in farmyards across the country, men who would rather not are quietly burning the fleeces off their own sheep, because a fire is cheaper than the trip to the depot. A material so fine that a kingdom was built on it, going up in smoke in the yard because nobody will pay a pound for it.

And what did we reach for instead. Plastic. Most of our clothes are now spun from oil, polyester and acrylic and nylon, shedding tiny threads into the sea with every wash, into the fish, into our own blood. It will not rot for generations.

So here we stand. A fibre that grows back every spring on nothing but grass and rain, that warms a child and then feeds the soil when its work is done, burning unwanted in a field.

While we dress ourselves, head to foot, in the very oil it was meant to spare us.

The sheep on that hill is still growing the finest coat in the world. We simply stopped being worthy of it.

[Massimo @Rainmaker1973]

A severe drought in Spain has revealed one of Europe’s most astonishing archaeological treasures — a 7,000-year-old megalithic monument, now confirmed to be older than both the Pyramids of Egypt and Stonehenge.

Known as the Dolmen of Guadalperal, this prehistoric stone circle had been submerged under a dam reservoir for decades. As water levels fell, the stones re-emerged, giving archaeologists a rare chance to study one of humanity’s earliest ceremonial sites.