It’s fair to say that with a third of Juneathon done and dusted, the treasure hunting is starting to take over my brain a little bit. Tonight I contemplated running a particular route because I had passed a squashed pigeon in the middle of the road. This is not good. Incidentially, if and when I do spot some roadkill, am I expected to photograph it? I don’t want to offend the squeamish and equally, I’m not sure I want to be the sort of person who takes photos of squished wildlife.

Tonight was a simple two miles (I would’ve done a bit longer, but my tea was sitting heavy) taking in a pink car (suggested by runorgocrazy) that we had clocked earlier in the evening.

It’s not quite Lady Penelope, but never mind.

I am very pleased to have ticked this off because I was being tormented by a Barbie pink Fiat 500. I keep passing one on the road while I’m out driving, but never see it while I’m out running. If I do see it while I’m treasure hunting I will take a photo of it because it is about as pink as you can get, but at least now I can dampen down my persecutory ideas that the driving has been taunting me on purpose…