Eating At The Hard Rock

As I cycle to work it is with one eye almost permanently on the sky, so convinced am I that it was about to rain on me but it didn’t. The weather is about as decisive as a British political party.

L's sister’s family are in New York City and L seems a touch jealous. Seemingly the long weekend in a muddy field in Cumbria didn't compare. I’m sure our summer sojourn to the Orkneys will be far more exciting. We'll be eating at some hard rock rather than at the Hard Rock Café.

I’m not sure what the New York City equivalent of the RousayLap is but I’m sure there’s something and obviously we’d have to enter if there was.

 

Last year a mere 72 cyclists, 16 runners, 10 walkers and a motorised scooter did the Rousay Lap. L seems quite excited at the prospect of being the first person to crawl it or she could do it with MD while I push Doggo round in a wheelbarrow.

The sun comes out for the cycle home, yep as decisive as a British political party, then I head over to dog training.

(Tuesday 5^th July)