Author: janh1

Part-time hedonist.

Say Cheese

I’ll admit I have to control my cheesy urges very strictly.  A chunk a day about an inch square is my ration but I do have the odd binge, especially if there is Stilton or Double Gloucester about.

About the only cheese I have ever disliked was the grated parmesan in pots that mater thought was the thing to sprinkle over spag bol when it was the new exotic foreign dish on the block. It did and probably still does, smell like cat pee whereas parmeggiano rough-grated fresh is very nice indeed. Continue reading “Say Cheese”

Pushy parents – turning kids off sport?

According to newspaper reports this morning,  pushy parents can turn their children off sport for life. So what? Do we even care? Is it important that kids should try out and excel at some sports or is it all about churning out the next generation of national champions to boost patriotism?

I think sport is good for those who will enjoy it. If you discount the drugs and cheating in professional sport, training, competing and winning is incredibly character-building and keeps kids occupied during the formative years when they could easily find less desirable ways to get their kicks. Continue reading “Pushy parents – turning kids off sport?”

Mobility buggy madness

I haven’t really got a thing about people in wheelchairs and mobility buggies but this made me smile.

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They can’t touch you for it, apparently but this guy, going about his business,  took up virtually the width of his side of the road.

Filmed in Wincanton, Somerset.   I just have to admire his independent “sod you lot” spirit.

Like the way he’s wearing a high-vis jacket – as though the carpet doesn’t make him obvious enough!

Dodgy dog training

The dog training isn’t going very well.

The Terrible Two come running when I arrive home – but only when I call their names. They don’t seen to understand, or show any willingness to understand “off” and “down” and they will not be bribed with commercial treats.

They are siblings – a male and a female from the same litter. Continue reading “Dodgy dog training”

Hurrah for the helmet.

Ok, it may seem like I’m constantly blithering on about the bliss-out effects of cycling blah, blah, etc, etc ad infinitum but I also concede that it’s not without its occasional mishaps.

Mountainbiking is arguably more hazard-strewn than the routine road commute. There’s mud, rocks, exposed roots and twisty gnarly descents in them thar hills. Plenty to stop you in your tracks, in other words. Having said that, it’s probably a bit more comfy to be wiped outby a malevolent branch in the spokes than it is to be knocked sideways by a people-carrier driven by a reckless, stressed mother late for the school run. Continue reading “Hurrah for the helmet.”

Wye Canoe?

You know those nights when you can’t sleep, so you get up but you know damn well, that being wide awake for a couple of hours before the tweety birds start up will not augur well for the day ahead?

If I am awake, I think there is an outside chance something useful will occur. I might write something unexpectedly inspired, read something moving or learn something new.

It was precisely one of those early mornings when I learned the ‘J’ stroke. Just to be clear, I’m not referring to some intimate personal therapy demonstrated on a dodgy pay-for site, but the movement you make with a canoe paddle so you can steer your vessel on a straight course from one side of it without having to paddle on alternate sides. Perhaps I didn’t put that very well but in essence, it kind of avoids having to zig-zag down the river in your canoe narrowly missing hitting the banks on either side. Continue reading “Wye Canoe?”

Argos and an east wind

For some members of the older generation, cycling is one of those things like Marmite and Lyle’s Golden Syrup, that hasn’t changed in a lifetime.

You can forget your garish lycra, your fancy Pinarellos and your Eddie Merckx racing bikes, your knobbly tyres and your crud-catchers and your twenty-one gears and £150 lights sets for scorching secret trails in the dark.

You can also forget your tricksy BMX bikes and your iconic Moultons and Pashleys.

Many of the older generation stoically make their way to work come rain or shine on a bog-standard, sit-up-and-beg bikes which are simply the means of getting from A to B cheaply. Continue reading “Argos and an east wind”