Seeen near Abbost Bromley, Staffordshire, they had their backs to the wind.

LPs: William Fitzsimmons- in vinyl is still at work, I can’t carry LPs on the bike. Looking forward to hearing that album in its entirety.
Work: going back has been a bit of a start; like a shock but less so (I’ll reserve that word for things like seeing a pheasant getting run-over on the A515). Wednesday cracked it though, after some days feeling terrible, I went to bed before 22.00. You should do that too sometimes. Now I feel normal.
Normal: actually, I don’t. Today’s 70 miles was harder than it should have been. Perhaps I didn’t eat enough yesterday to feel normal today. I was too tired and desperate to get home to shoot some photos of blooming rape against darkening cumulus clouds. I missed a pearl there (not in a knitting sense).

Cycle– shortened by heavy rain showers, not a problem themselves, but the two punctures in one day is teetering on annoying.

Headaches: another approach to dealing with them is reading glasses. I almost forgot that I had them, so out of the habit of wearing them am I. So I can beat them with reading glasses, less caffeine and better hydration.

I laughed at a van today, normally they are not very funny, especially the dirty silver ones with company logos all over them. This one had on the back door:

10°C, NE winds, clearing, c=51 miles

I have:a fridge, it will take some installing- it was origonally part of a fitted kitchen- you know the sort where you can’t tell which door has a refrigerator behind it. On its own though, the fridge is quite industrial looking, so I’m going to use the cupboard thing that it came in. However, it will need some wood-work to install it. Recycling.
Seasonal: I am sneezing and have itchy eyes. The only plants doing anything right now are some harmless flowers and the willows are sporing. They will have to take the blame.

A reliable source (PixieJojo) tells me that these ridges were cut by farmers during the 1940s. They were under instructions from the Govt. ministry who hoped for an increase in yield. I can see their thinking.
The rest of the ride was in sleet which changed its mind and became proper snow.

8°C, S winds, high cloud. C= 56 miles

First Snowdrops are getting earlier each year- even though this has been a cold winter.


I’ve regained my faith in Live Spaces, the networking features do actually seem to work. They are not just nicked from Facebook, well actually they are, but I felt some pressure to stick around and not blog anywhere else.

Rode to work in even heavier rain than yesterday, though for the same reason- this new raincoat really does make it bearable. Anyway, riding up Shire-Oak Hill I was followed by a gigantic artic. It had one of those American tractors with the long-nosed bonnet and monster exhausts that rumbled so deeply you could feel it right through your body. It was towing one of those low trailers bearing a machine that lays tarmac. That payload was also of mammoth size- it overlapped the footpath that I was riding on a bit. I wonder how many women are impressed this sort of thing; there is a primeval wonder about this, just like there is on hearing a 34 litre engine with open pipes go by(say, er, a Spitfire). Picture the whole scene with red tail lights and multiple repeated red specks in the drops on your eyeshades, a deep deep rumble  in your ears and the irregular patter-pat sound of rain on your coat. Red brake lights were the only colours on that hill; all else was the molten grey of wet road and landscape. Most cars are metallic grey these days too.
I wowed even more when the beast turned left at the traffic lights at the top of the hill. It had eight wheels at the back of the trailer, they steered right as the front turned left. More "WOW"s, it cleared the kerb on the tight turn by inches (a few). That was the climax in my transport-porn experience today.
It’s the original meaning of heavy-metal. Are things like this gorgeous, or is it just me?

I got shouted at by an irate driver coming home. Interesting was the opener for his argument: "Why do you think the council built that cycle-path?" What does it matter the reason, it is a dangerous route, and I do have the right to exercise the choice not to use it. Riding in the road didn’t cause anybody any inconvenience, least of all – him on that wide stretch of road. He didn’t offer any reasons why I should use the path as an alternative, so I was left with the apparent rationale- "the council put it there so you are obliged to use it". Maybe that’s not what he was thinking, but if it was… perhaps he got it from the Daily Mail. I wasn’t interested in getting to the bottom of his thinking since he was aggressively shouting at me for something harmless.

The conflict ended after some social un-niceties, finally with him inadvertently declaring himself a bigger wanker than me. That left me with the perilous task of making a right turn at lights while trying not to laugh too hysterically.

It’s Friday afternoon, the weekend starts now: be in a good mood old boy.

Can’t cycle, it’s too slippery on the ice. No exercise means I can feel the cold, my spring is getting wound up quite a bit now. A decent ride brews warmth from within for days.
Last resort is the gym. Gulp.