Young Enough To Stare

Back on the second-best bike today which is perhaps a bit of a risk as it's Friday the 13th but there are no punctures today. I do tussle with a lass on an electric bike, who assures me her 'other bike' is a proper one as we chat going up Risley Hill, me out of breath, her being chauffeur driven.

Meanwhile my first-best girl is unashamedly eyeing up some 'sexy' Spaniard at the pool. He was apparently doing stretches on the side of the pool but L had to swim very slowly past doing breaststroke to notice that. She says she’s old enough to be his mother but young enough to stare, which is the sort of thing I’d come out with. Wait until I get her home.

Lunch comes courtesy of a very small, very expensive sandwich from Starbucks as my usual venue of choice (through lack of choice)  for crap sandwiches, Greggs, is shut for a refit. Quite what they can do differently there I don’t really know.

I attempt to do a few beat boxes on my way home from work but I’m not confident it won't end in disaster. I don’t puncture this time and I cycle an extra 10km, visiting 12 beat boxes of which 8 acknowledge my presence. The rest are all flat. I meet a fellow cyclist who is doing what I had hoped to do by visiting every one but he’s now resorted to marking them off with pen and paper such is the number of ones that no longer work.

When I get home I find that just 2 of the 12 have registered on the website scoring me a massive ten points rather than the expected 110. L has had a similarly frustrating quest. We both Facebook the box people to complain, well not really complain, just to let them know about the problems there are. It’s a great idea and hopefully if it comes back next year they’ll have ironed all these problems out.

L has her ball. The Poundshop had a choice of either Superman or Pink Princess. Naturally she went pink, not that that will make much difference to its chances of ending up in the garden.

(Friday 13^th May)

Out Of Date

A planning application have been submitted to turn the once nice Old Peacock pub near us on Ilkeston Road into student flats.... well, at least it's not another Tesco.

but then of course another nice old building, the Bentinck Hotel by the station is becoming a Starbucks...

Both are nice pubs, just in need of good management.

I get a message saying that dog training is on tonight unless we get more rain later which is a surprise. When I get there I can see why, although the bottom part of the field is a bit boggy the top part is very firm, well frozen. Should be ok though.

We eat Son’s out of date haggis.

(Monday 3rd December)

She’ll Have To Go To Starbucks Like Everyone Else

Back to the grind today. Back at work and back on the bike. Which as its very blustery and the rain is driving into my face perhaps wasn’t the best of ideas but it was needed.

There are seven of us in work, which is more than usual. L says there’s just one of them, just herself... but her boss is due in later. She could always pop round for tea with the Nuns if she’s lonely.

L carefully plans her evening schedule of gym, dog walking, painting, knitting and reading... Then I offer to come to the gym and spoil it, totally stuffing up her schedule, forcing her to rearrange everything. All so I can do 5k on the treadmill. Which was predictably hard and boring, particularly after 30 miles on the bike today. I’m kind of inspired after reading about the training that Dave Millar put himself through in his book 'Racing Through The Dark' that I’ve started reading.



A Christmas present you know and I’m actually reading it, from a book, made of paper, not listening to it.

I also get to try out my new sport headphones, another Christmas present. Then I do 1k on the rower before I crawl to the coffee machine.

Back home our wi-fi is dipping in and out, coincidentally it appears that this only happens when Son is on his xbox, which is mysterious. Daughter is not happy, not that this is unusual. I thought this was maybe because she has to get several essays in for just after New Year but no it’s because she’s missing skyping her housemates. She’ll just have to go use the wi-fi at Starbucks like everyone else.

(Wednesday 28th December)

Good Old Post Office

Just as I’m getting ready to leave for work this morning, someone pushes MD back through the front door and closes it again. Ah. He didn’t last long on his walk. L did say she wasn’t going to put up with his misbehaving any more.

It starts snowing but it’s not that wonderful, unpleasant wet snow.

At lunch time it takes me ages in the hairdressers because the chap asked if it was me he saw at the View concert before Christmas. Having discovered a common love of live music we embark on a long discussion about all the gigs we’ve both been too. Don't you just hate people who takes ages to get their hair cut.

I see Starbucks has dropped the charade that it actually makes coffee and has removed the word from its new logo.



About time. We wondered what it was they were serving in those cups.

Mouse watch: L tells me how much she loves mice and hopes we're feeding them something decent... Of course, cheese, on traps.



Over to Bingham tonight for our bi-annually mini Uni reunion. One of the lads hasn’t had a drink since August, so he’s going to be slaughtered. It will probably cause him to give up again for another long stretch. Another of the guys was going to criticise me for not sending him a birthday card but it arrived rather tardily this morning, his birthday was 29th December. It was postmarked 22nd December. 16 days for a first class delivery. Impressive. Good old post office.

(Friday 7th January)