Four days in a row on the bike and a dodgy thigh for my troubles but at least the calf is fine.
Shock number one. L enters the Great Nottinghamshire Bike Ride. She says she’d rather do that the Grimsthorpe Half Marathon that is on the same day. Hang on, rewind. She’d rather do the cycle... did I hear that right? I best get her bike serviced then.
Shock number two. British Gas ring and say they’re coming tomorrow, to fit the long promised filter. Result. A result for perseverance after taking the intransigent position of demanding a Saturday appointment after they'd already wasted two days of L’s time this year.
Of course there's no guarantee that it will happen, we’ll believe it when we see it. Their record isn’t good and if they do turn up, will they bring the part? Well, they’ve got less than twenty four hours to lose it.
For our cosy Friday night in, I turn up sweaty from my cycle while L turns up sweaty from her run and we put the delightful Rammstein on the TV whilst I cook. Romance eh? I tell L to shout me if anything bursts into flames. That’s on the TV, not on the stove.
Then we dig out some old photos and reminisce on past skiing holidays, going back first to 1999, when we were all a touch younger. Daughter was just five! It’s an interesting reminiscence night over a bottle of wine. Although it should probably have been over a wheat beer and a Jagertee.
‘We've been around’ L says. Quite.
(Friday 23rd March)