Enjoying the View

On bike. It's not as cold this morning, there's a bit of rain in the air but it's not too bad. I had a hot coffee from my flask in Sandiacre, warming though this is; I'm still not convinced it's an ideal drink for cycling. There's a bit left in my flask but by Borrowash it's getting a bit cold. Unfortunately as I slow down to glug the last few drops someone has the nerve to overtake me. Naturally I give chase and catch them up but before I can get my own back they turn off. Typical.

Controversy at Derby County and I don't mean the appalling quality of the football. The club mascot, Rammie, a chap called Dean Mottram, has been 'relieved of his duties' after 17 years in the job. According to the club, it follows a row over how aspects of his role were funded. Dean, who's now 40, which is an excellent age to be, started the job in 1990 before becoming the football league's first full-time mascot in 1996. There will be a replacement but it won't be the same.



L's been swimming with Buster again, although apparently I've been blogging about the wrong Buster Crabbe. I should have been writing about Lionel Crabb (no 'e'), who gained the nickname 'Buster', in honour of the other Buster Crabbe, the one I did blog about. Confusing eh?

This Crabb is actually more intriguing. In 1956 he dived into Portsmouth Harbour, supposedly on a MI6 undercover mission and was never seen again. Well until 14 months later, when a body in a frogman suit was found floating off Pilsey Island. The body though was missing its head and both hands. Neither, Crabb's ex-wife nor his girlfriend were able to confirm whether it was or wasn't actually him. So they obviously didn't know him that well! I would hope L would be able to identify my body in such circumstances e.g. if I ever do an open-water swim and it all goes pear-shaped.

I cycle home and then L joins Doggo and me for a run around the pond, doing our new route. It shocks L that I've actually changed my route, Doggo and I are both creatures of habit when it comes to running. Well Doggo is a creature of habit with everything.

L tells me that the other day on my blog I made life sound like a pint. Well it is, isn’t it? You either see life as a glass half empty or a glass half full but whatever your preference it's better off drunk. She says I used to say life was a game of football, in my young and impetuous days. Hmmm. Football’s not even a game of football these days and is she implying that I'm not impetuous anymore? Wait till I get her home.

Unfortunately my life is more of a triathlon these days, e.g. bloody frustrating. A triathlon though, according to L, is a jog with the occasional nice view. Hmmm, that's simplistic view but she's right about the occasional nice view. Unfortunately it usually finishes ahead of me, except tonight when she's behind me, all that's ahead of me is the collie.

I cook up a Keema, which is rather good, if I do say so myself. Then we plough on with Bleak House, without wine, which is a bit of a challenge. Bleak House is actually rather good, although I am tired and we only manage one episode. Despite being tired I do feel that I've sussed the plot and its only episode four.

The tiredness induces an early night, thankfully L's more lively than me, must be all that swimming kicking in, which leaves me free to enjoy the nice view.