Big Cats

On the bike and yet another puncture. I even fell down the very same hole again. (Sigh). It is such a dreadful stretch of road, hole after hole. I think at least half of the punctures I’ve had over the years have been on this same half a mile of road.

I think the chap whose front fence I lean my bike against while I repair it is a getting a bit sick of me. Then again, he said ‘good morning’ to me today, so perhaps not. We’ll be exchanging Christmas cards soon.

Then as I pedal into work I pass a pack of leopards, tigers, cheetahs and other assorted cats, I’m sure there was a tabby in a short skirt among them but I may have been mistaken, all heading to the Roundhouse sixth form college. So it must be Children in Need night again.

The very cosmopolitan L takes her second train journey in two days and meets Daughter for lunch in Sheffield. In Bungalows and Bears, no less. Which looks (via their website) as interesting as it sounds. I wonder if Pudsey will be popping in there later?

I take it easy on the ride home. I have to. I have no more inner tubes.

Then a little wander to the Victoria in Beeston tonight.

(Friday 18th November)

Just Part Of The Game

Another puncture. Clearly, something is askew in the heavens. Though it was my own fault really, I put a wheel down a hole I knew was there avoiding one I didn't know was there. Sigh.

None of which bodes bode well for this winter when they haven't got around to fixing last year’s pot holes yet and we're just about to head into this year’s pothole season.

L frogmarches the boys down to squash. To meet me, not to play. It's a good four miles, so it's brave of her considering she almost topped herself walking them down the shorter distance to meet us at the White Hart last week. I’m not sure walking them all that way would be good for her alcohol intake afterwards.

It’s a hard fought squash match tonight. He fires the ball into my back at pace, so he gets my racquet smashed down on his fingers, he retaliates with a blow into the ribs with his elbow, so I fire the ball into his eye socket. None of this is deliberate of course, just part of the game and it happens over the course of four games, not all in succession. So bruised but not blooded we complete another friendly squash game.

Unfortunately his blow to my ribs is exactly where I fractured/bruised them when I came off my bike. They were 95% recovered but now I'm set back to about 60%. I struggled through the rest of the game, you do don't you, as long as I don't start breathing heavy they're fine. Cue long breaks between points. I even win the last game.

Then we head off to the White Hart for the £5 curry, only to find it’s closed until further notice. Oh no. I hope it's not another pub biting the dust. We head home and have to cook our own curry.

(Thursday 29th September)