Warning: the blog that follows was written earlier while under the influence of absolutely the best drug.
Just back from the most filthy gorgeous ride around the Forest of Dean all bathed in pure dazzling winter sunshine; really looking its Sunday best. Continue reading “Filthy gorgeous”
Does anyone make New Year resolutions any more that don’t involve going to the gym/losing weight? (yawns, puts feet up with latest Byatt, chooses another morsel from the Hotel Chocolate box while kitten settles on lap against warm laptop).
The newspapers are full of dieting and getting fit plans but they are the hackneyed way to fill features pages at this time of year. Continue reading “New Year Resolutions”
Picture the old crooner Bing, sitting a wing-backed armchair, wearing his navy-blue dressing gown with red piping over stripy pyjamas and comfy tweed slippers. He’s looking tenderly at a a roaring log fire, hearth festooned with sparkly red bows and seasonal greenery – holly, sprouts,mistletoe and vine (German version) when he bursts into song…
“Have yourself a flaming little Christmas… Continue reading “Let your fires be bright”
So, I’m feeling a lot more Christmassy now. This is about right less than two weeks before. I’m counting the days. It’s going to be a traditional family Christmas, maybe the last one for a while where we can all get together on the day.
The festive feelings all started with an office Christmas bash. Continue reading “Feeling Christmassy now”
If you are full of the joys of the forthcoming Christmas season; if you have just finished wrapping the last on your list of Christmas gifts and fixing home-made little Hobbycraft holly leaves and berries to it; if you have all your Christmas cards written and in a wobbly pile on the sideboard waiting to be posted, please don’t read on. You won’t like it. You really won’t. Continue reading “And so this is..er..NOT Christmas!”
Starting to see results dog-training the kittens. They both come and greet me at the door when I arrive home without me calling them. Leo bounds over to say hello vocally, cavorting and purring loudly. Think feline lawnmower. Lily takes her time as though she’s slightly resentful of having to turn out when she was, after all, fast asleep. Her purr has got louder. You no longer have to place a hand on her back to tell if she’s purring or not by feeling the vibrations. Continue reading “Feline dog-training II”
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?”
They are still out to get me you know. It’s something being harassed by a weird old lady in a wheelchair. It’s quite another thing shrivelling with embarrassment when a piece of supermarket technology starts shouting at you. Continue reading “Paranoia II”
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”
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.”
Boadicea's Chariot 
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