Winter in Leicestershire.

6°C, SW brisk, one sunny bit.
I rode the Arrow with MapMyRide+! Distance: 53.13mi, time: 03:50:29, pace: 4:20min/mi, speed: 13.8mi/h.
http://mapmyride.com/workout/817772727
Typical winter’s side. Cold, blustery and dull. So were my legs but at least the bike was comfortable and click free. That average speed is low! The ride out was much quicker, I managed to overtake a mixed club all dressed in Santa costumes. Okay, with the assistance of a crossing tailwind. The return leg really was slow though.

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The Water Park was very quiet, but at least there was some food. Alas, no soup.

Best days.

7°C, icy start and sun for the few daylight hours.
I am at my best on days like this. The sun and crisp air lift away the winter gloom. For hours, I chopped wood, clipped plants, fitted draught excluders, fixed bike, laundry, shopping and more. Now, there is reassurance seeing a basket with enough wood to take me through January.

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Sunrise from a few days ago.!

Tindersticks: Ypres.

8°C, rain later.
Get home and chop wood for the fire. The only exercise I had all day. That long latent cold has lifted without really doing more than sapping my energy. Oh well, that’s gone.
Before bed, I relaxed with some music, played on the proper stereo.
On first impression, Tindersticks’ album, Ypres doesn’t include much action. There are some broad key changes, large slow sounds that move up and down the scales.
There is more, however. Some filigree textures and quivering tremolo strings. An inner tension resides there. To my surprise, I was intensely moved, speechless in fact.
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Cover art.

Hibernate in the shed.

8°C, storms brewing, strong W. Heavy rain.
This moth has chosen the window frame inside the shed to spend the winter in a very sluggish state. He was on the glass, but settled here after I accidentally dislodged him. Maybe he’s better off there as the glass can get very cold in the coming winter.
Dreadful weather is looming in the northern approaches. It’s said to take quite some time to move out. The more hysterical papers call it a “weather bomb”, a huge drop in pressure in short time.

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Promise to self: look out for him, with care, he could make it.

Ten degrees

Sun and showers, 4°C, NW breeze.
Cold house, the kitchen was 10°C when I got home tonight. It’s a few degrees higher now and the fire is roaring in the front room.
The cold has penetrated deeply today, it reached its fingers beneath skin, veins and muscles.
At fifty years old, I am yet to learn to like winter.
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Drawing in my work diary, it’s only an inch across.

Depths.

4°C, windy, some hail showers,
No ride, latent virus saps my energy so I am in rest phase. I can’t tell whether this cold will erupt fully or fizzle out losing the fight with my immune system.

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Hoar frost on my car yesterday morning. The drive home was interrupted by three crashes. The worst stopped traffic for half an hour so I switched off and got my Murakami book out. Divers on the M6 don’t make the connection between tailgating and long delays after each collision.

Greyness.

9°C, sunny with light NW breeze,
Sunday, rode fixed with MapMyRide+! Distance: 52.31mi, time: 03:29:03, pace: 4:00min/mi, speed: 15.01mi/h.
http://mapmyride.com/workout/807418955
In contrast to yesterday, today I saw colour, blue sky and golden autumn colours.

Saturday, was it tiredness plus grey weather that left me wanting to sleep all day? Low grey clouds and light mist sucked all the colour out of the day. Dull dull dull.

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Near the river Ribble.

UKIP chairman “were racist”.

UKIP’s local chairman, Peter Cope wrote the letter below to the local paper.

How to deal with this, let’s use numbers.
Firstly, the population of Lichfield is 32,000 (from the 2011 census). So UKIP thinks that 32,000 x 5 = 500,000.
Net migration is a far more useful figure to use, it subtracts the numbers who leave the UK. That is approximately 249,000. 19% of the number who migrate here are returning UK born citizens anyway. Should they be subtracted too, since nobody can claim that they have no right to move here.

Therefore, the numbers don’t add up Chairman of Lichfield UKIP. You too may be accused of brainwashing you construct arguments in the way you do. You are dysfunctional when handling numbers and can’t construct a grammatically correct sentence.
An accusation made in a non-ironic way.

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Swim,

7°C, drizzle, mist,
Swim: after work. The weather is too awful for a ride today. I chose a pool that is on the way home, a place I haven’t been to since I was a 13 year old school child. I swam lengths for forty minutes in the fast lane. I say “fast lane”, but I needed to wait at the ends for other swimmers to clear a space.
This was a public session, with two lanes reserved for adult lengths. Perhaps their adult sessions have quicker lanes.
Other swimmers were mostly quite fat. Even the kids, in the area without ropes, were paddling podgy seals. Walsall is a fat place.