On the commute to work: I went through a speed trap at 34 mph, but it didn’t trigger the camera- no flash. Was the camera’s trigger set just a bit higher- say 35mph, or did I not reflect enough for the radar? Perhaps if I put s length of baking foil up my cycling jersey, then the camera should trip. I’m not a stealth cyclist.

Lost: I lost Rosie tonight.Out for a 40′ walk in the woods and then an hour to search for my missing dog. By the time she came back she was obviously stressed and relieved. And so was I.
She’s back home now, worn-out and thirsty. I blame the rabbits, and they look so innocent too.
Now what has happened to my voice, it’s all hoarse & dry.

That empty-legs feeling: a conversation has confirmed what I suspected was the reason for this. Occasionally, cycle rides need ot be cut short because there just isn’t enough energy in my legs (my whole body really). Now I am willing to air my suspicion. This weekend, I simply haven’t eaten well enough, noodles just aren’t good enough to cycle on. This evening, I had pasta and suddenly the energy game gushing back.

Two photos from today’s cycle ride.
Remember that swan nuclear family I posted a few Sundays ago. Well, haven’t they grown?
I got resolutely hissed at by this swan. I don’t blame her, so I backed off.. She was guarding the same number of cygnets that I counted two weeks ago

The 48-tree. Taken from the road overlooking the Staunton Harold estate. Can you see it, or am I just stretching my credibility.

Cycling, have you ever bought an artwork while cycling. I have, or may have if I can pull this one off. I spotted an art sale when riding through Repton, two pictures stood out and the price seemed reasonable.

 http://smg.photobucket.com/flash/player.swf?file=http://vidmg.photobucket.com/albums/v411/EssieP/Blogging/DSCF0822.flv

Here is one very poorly looking rape field. Some patches were normal looking but acres & acres look dry, brown dusty and quite dead.

This is rain I can live with, it is interrupted by bright sunny spells while the dark clouds brew up on the horizon. Stygian.
I ought to comment on the 19/20 politicians who have been fiddling the books in Parliament and the House of Lords too. It all seems too obviously corrupt to be worth mentioning. I can only hope they are treated in the way we would be if it were us in our jobs doing the same thing. But wait, only a few are suspended pending an investigation.
Cattle: here are the cows that chased Rosie & Bess last week. They look nice enough…

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.