Sometimes you just have to swallow your pride.
I knew I knew nothing about bikes which is why I took it in for a service before the Manchester-Blackpool bike ride. I’m just glad nobody else was in the shop when the guy told me the tyres were on back to front, the bearings were loose, the handlebars were loose and the gears were all over the place. At least I never tried to pretend I had a clue. But it was quite a battering.
The now-serviced bike with all the above corrections is unsurprisingly a lot more ridable!
I was very lethargic over the weekend but at least managed to conduct the move from suitcases and under-bed drawers into the new wardrobe. So I now have wardrobes running from the front to the back of the house, holding the collection. It’s still got a firm demarcation with Mark’s collection in one room and mine in the other but at last I can see what’s left after much slimming down of duplicated items, stuff of weird sizes (Mark and I at least started out similar in dimensions before he bloated with steroids from the Chemo and I shrank with marathon training, but there were some odd additions in his collection which arrived there by goodness knows what means), and finally stuff that no longer makes sense to retain.
Visiting parents were suitably impressed with the rebuilt back room. It seems to be yet-another-rock-n-roll-weekend where they get to look at some fresh paint.
Still their visit involved me roasting a chicken which in turn means vast amounts of home made soup! And I cooked tonight again so more freezer food. Of course, bread baking had to happen too so the soup didn’t get lonely……….
Hmmm. Where did my life of excitement which I dreamt of as a child evaporate to?
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