Something about being at Hay Festival compels me to sit and scribble. This is what I wrote yesterday.
So here I am back at Hay Festival again. A lively breeze is whipping the tops of the trees, the creaky aluminium-framed tents are protesting and the tall pastel ripple-edged flags are waving as though frantically trying to catch some attention. We are surrounded by green pastures. Continue reading “Hay ho”
Gosh. Only two percent. That’s really not many. Bit of a shame really.
Just 2% of the female population cycle once a week compared with 6% of men.
Work to do for the promoters of cycling as a means of transport, of exhilarating recreation, of a fine and fitness-enhancing thing to do. Continue reading “Two percent”
There’s some new movement called “SlutWalk” which seems to be about confirming women’s freedom to wear not much in a slutty way.
There’s an image of some girls holding a banner “It’s my hot body. I do what I want.”
Some men might applaud this “outing” of rampant sexuality and from my point of view, yes, women should, within the confines of public decency, feel free to wear what they like. Continue reading “It’s my HOT BODY!”
Writing this after a shower while my head’s still swimming with feel-good hormones.
Completed the 40 mile Cotswold Bike Ride today. Rode with two work colleagues, Kath and Sarah and their blokes. All respect to Sarah who was riding a borrowed bike and had done no training whatsoever for the ride but still finished – and her bloke who did the full distance without padded shorts and who suffered consequences which will only become truly evident over the next day or two! Continue reading “Cotswold Bike Ride 2011”
Dear Tech Support,
Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend to Husband and noticed a distinct slowdown in overall system performance, particularly in the flower and jewellery applications, which operated flawlessly under Boyfriend. Continue reading “Tech Support”
You know how it is when stuff is free. It feels mean not to avail yourself. People have gone to a lot of trouble and it would be rude to refuse.
It was our first all-inclusive hol and there were drinks, all the food you could want and free watersports. Well, obviously booze and swimming don’t mix. Neither do food and swimming for that matter so that was mostly for the evening.
I’m not one of those “alarm clock” sunbathers who turn themselves regularly beneath the roasting Caribbean sun to create that lovely mahogany tan so beloved of Peter Stringfellow which will inevitably turn into briefcase leather at around 65 years old. Continue reading “Windsurfing”
Those noises were very spooky. It’s not as if you don’t hear noise underwater. I’ve heard boat engines, outboards, jetskis, pedaloes, people noises and the sound of rain on the surface of the ocean, but never this weird, unearthly kind of calling.
Sometimes a lower pitch moan seemed to be “answered” by a higher pitch whine, mixed with other more faint noises which were difficult to discern. Continue reading “Watery Paradise II”
I left some Caribbean beach between my toes for the flight, the sea in my hair for two days and the Virgin holidays luggage label is still on the rucksack.
I have shells on the dressing table and pieces of washed up coral and I’m wearing the weird shell, local rock and local wood bracelet that Helenora the lady who sat on the beach stringing beads, made for me. Continue reading “Watery paradise”
So, yes, the Sculpture Trail in the Forest of Dean, Glos, is definitely worth doing. Lots of sculptures hidden in dingly dells, on old railway lines, among the tumps of old mine workings, up trees. Continue reading “The leaning temple of Babylon”