Feeling Broody

Had a romantic moment with L after her shower this morning and she generously offered me a quickie, no doubt concerned about me not being fully warmed up before my bike ride. It took some effort but I turned down her enticing offer. Don't want to get in the way of a good power walk. My self-control amazed even me or perhaps it's just my age.

Once on the bike, for the first time for ages, I managed to tail a lycra clad female for part of the ride. I didn't tail her for very long, because regrettably she was over 60, on a shopper bike and was going very slowly.

Get to work and realise I've been seriously out done. One of our directors has parked a sparkly new red Cannondale in our reception. Too good to be chained to the fence like everyone else's. It's making me broody for a new set of wheels for myself. On closer inspection, well you have to don't you; it’s only a cheap one at around £800. It's basically the same set up as mine just with slightly better components, so I’m soon over my jealously. It’s certainly not as good as my next bike.

L says that if I have a new bike, can she have a new dog? Of course, she can. As long as she can cope with two on the paper round in the mornings. I think that put her off. The rescue dog that L has been longing for has been re-homed, so relief all round. The home though, have invited L round to power walk the dogs for them, which could set off the broodiness again.

She could of course part exchange our old one but she says she couldn't part with the old codger. Nor could I for that matter. He probably thinks the same about us, a pair of old codgers, holding him back. He does appear to have made a miraculous recovery because his limp seems to have gone and L had no chance of checking his paw this morning because he was too busy throwing socks about.

I get ready to head for home with L telling me to have a safe cycle ride but not to pretend that I'm on a Cannondale. I tell her to get the iced coffee ready. They'll be no X, if there ever has been, because L's not at her physio this week. I tell her she'll have to draw her own. She says she's practice with the whipped cream for the ice coffee. Sounds promising.

I come home through Kegworth and Clifton again. It's another blistering ride, which I think deserves rewarding. Protein shake, cake, iced coffee and a girl, who out of consideration for my aching legs is happy to go on top, that'll do nicely.

Then we head out to the Three Wheatsheaves for a change. Unfortunately the only decent beer is off and the clientele are an interestingly down market bunch to say the least. Theakston Mild and Bitter. We move onto the Plough. Two pints of Supreme hit the spot.

We have some steak sandwiches when we get back while watching Jools.