English: American singer Whitney Houston performing on Good Morning America (Central Park, New York City) on September 1, 2009. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
3°C, gloaming with stay grey
Whitney Housten died last night.
-3.5°C, clear + hard frost.
Always the hardest week, next week we stop for Christmas.
Sudden temperature drop, a throaty cold and regular exhaustion. I feel the cold more when I haven’t ridden. Shame the conditions are possible, the virus impossible.
So zero miles to add from this week to a relatively low mileage year. I have only clocked up about 5,000 miles this year on the 3 bikes. Maybe a new year’s resolution idea there?
This morning, remaining coals in the grate still have warmth.
7°C. Some rain, sun too.
A mending weekend: TV, laptop, bike, smoke detector, hair, shelves
TV makes a short high buzz with a few minutes of changing channel or starting a video. One web forum sort said unplug it for at least 4 hours to reset it. So far, no better, possibly getting worse.
Bike: has a new tyre to replace the one that gave trouble on Friday. It’s all shiny and clean now.
Laptop: frequently drops the internet connection. The router is okay, the desktop pc, phone and DVD player all work properly. Again, the web forums say install new network card drivers. Done, and it’s better but still cuts sometimes.
Not the best way to spend a December weekend. Cycling is the best but I have a cough and listless.
So, housemaking it is.
4°C, NNW. brisk.
Twist: I set off 15 mins to make up for the strong wind. Not ten minutes into my ride to work, the bike grinds to a halt. The bunge cord had wrapped itself round the cogs. It took ages to pull the shredded fibres out.
Hiss: once back on the road I set a pace to pull back the lost time. Six miles later the front Tyre started to feel soft. Great, a puncture. Only a few miles from work, I decided to blow up the tyre and ride on before it goes back down.
Thump: fixed the tube at break and set off at 5. The tyre wasn’t seated properly, or so it seems. Each turn made a thump, it’s got a sort of flat spot, not the rim, the tyre.
Odd, nervous miles. Please don’t blowout.
0°C, hoary frost.
Brave it on two wheels later. It’s slippery out there this morning. Apparently, hospital food isn’t too bad, I’m told.
I rode. only a mere 28 miles but it was so cold and I wove gingerly past numerous ice patches.
0°C, ice again.
weekend at home- too much marking to go away on adventures. This time of year uncovers what’s been hiding beneath lush grass all summer. English roads and lanes are bordered with unbroken lines of MacDonald’s packaging and mineral water bottles. Some of those water bottles have their sides pierced.
They are always carefully pierced in the same way. Sometimes, a plastic tube remains inserted in the side. It’s a sort of bong left by local druggies. They use this to stupify themselves and then leave with their piles of litter behind.
A bit of detective work could trace them. In the discarded shopping bags, there is often a receipt, which could track the buyer.
A few years ago, someone died in a festival tent in that field. Sometimes I find foil, but never needles. Drugs.
Such is modern life.
0~4°C, clear, calm.
First ice: just runoff from fields, so I walked a few short stretches this morning. As I rode in, the moon set in the north west. The self-same moon rose on the way home. I wondered about that, does the moon set at exactly sunrise when it’s full? I bet it’s not that simple.
The ride home was colourful- I got shouted at after weaving through stationary traffic. It sounded like the guy had prepared his piece in advance:
“DO YOU LIKE HOSPITAL FOOD” He yelled on stopping at the lights. I admit to being rather puzzled by this. He shouted some more, stuff about cyclists’ reputations. No wonder…
Sounded like a prejudice affirmed. I suspect a Daily Mail reader on a rant. I had maneuvered round his car while it was boxed in by another turning right. Was I then, a scapegoat for his frustration at that sticking point on the road. Certainly I did nothing that affected his journey, there was no risk to me- both cars were stationary.
7°C, light cloud. Chilly.
If you have time, when you get to work, let off steam about annoying drivers who got in your way. I did that this morning and a flood gate opens for others to relate their stories. In this area, many drivers who want to turn across a more majour road will pull out in front of on-coming traffic. I braked for one today in amazement. I have then a long emotional horn sound to “indicate my presence “. She reacted with an expression of her own, one finger plus a glare. It was almost as though she thought I had done something wrong.
7°C, rain.
Arrived at work in quite a bad mood. The bike felt like it was falling apart, the rear axle didn’t grip the drop-out properly so it wobbled. The wheel is quite new and it seems that the axle needs a spacer.
The result was that the bike felt quite unstable, and then consequently I felt unsafe. I get stressed by that feeling. I stopped half a dozen times on that ride trying to fix it, but after any uphill pull, the axel lost the grip on the dropout again.
7°C, sun became rain later. Heavy.
From now, get used to the idea that I’m forty-eight years old.
I’m 48 too.
Micycle 