After three great evenings
this last week it was certainly back down to earth with a hell of a bump this
weekend. Saturday morning we got up a little later than usual to start our
turbo session, we started at 7 am thirty minutes later than usual but then we
didn’t get home until gone 11 pm and that was the second time this week we have
been late going to bed. Steve can come home from theatre night out, throw
himself into bed and be fast asleep while I am still in wind down mode. I will
take a look at Sky news for one roll of the latest happenings, then I climb
into my side of our ridiculously high, ‘Princess and the Pea’ bed and read a
couple of chapters of what ever book I have selected on my Kindle. The light
will still be on and there is not a chance, even with me being the thing goes
bump in the night, that anything will wake Steve; he is a solid sleeper and
never complains that I am keeping him awake.
Missing my usual sleep
pattern was reflected on the quality of my bike work and the session seemed
like it was hours long but was in fact only and hour and a half.
Later on I had a bit on
computer work to do whilst Steve had the downhill skiing on TV that looked to
be total carnage with the rescue helicopter working overtime.
There is not time in this
life to do everything I would like to do and three evenings socialising had put
me way behind on my viewing of the European Figure Skating Championship from Ostrava in the Czech
Republic. Yesterday I was
able to watch our recording of the Men’s Short programme. Spain’s Javier
Fernadez’s short programme was the best I have seen him skate, sheer perfection
that had him go into the Free with a 10 point lead leaving him close to
unbeatable. He was not, however perfect in
this long programme, even though he had shaved off the cute facial hair that so
suited his ‘Malaguena’ routine in the short that helped with the Spanish feel.
The clean shaven look did not prevent a couple of costly mistakes in his Elvis
routine but he was still safe enough to take his 5th European title.
My favourite skater of the last several years Sergei Voronov was not competing,
which was a bit disappointing for me but then he is 29 now which in figure
skating competition terms is quite old; sad but true with so much young blood
popping out of the woodwork.
Last night the club swim
felt much better than the Turbo session in the morning. It was quiet in my lane
since I thought that I would be alone because several of my friends were out on
the razz one way or another with trips to London
right, left and centre. In the end I was not totally alone because a paramedic
friend who is a bit of casual at the session, chose to swim in my lane because
he didn’t feel up to much with work pressure and having spent a cold afternoon
watching his son play rugby. I had told him before we got in the water that I
thought it a shame that he was not keen on swim training when he has such a
lovely stroke. He is despite being over 6’ tall a very considerate person to
swim with and I notice that he always glides gently by me when he passes on the
other side of the lane from me to avoid hitting me with one of his shovel sized
hands. He told Steve a porky about how far he had swum on one occasion and gave
me a Wallace and Gromit smile in the hope that I would not split on him. I
wouldn’t do that when I am trying to encourage him to swim with us more often.
He got out before the end of the set and I added 300 back crawl to the music in
my head that was perfect for swim down. Ramin Karimloo singing Hush-a-bye Mountain; perfect first swim use of this
song. I nearly always swim to music in my head.
This morning we had a good
run that was only one minute slower than our best, even though there was thick
mud everywhere that was made harder when it started to rain about half way
through the course. By the time we finished we were soaked to the skin. I had
not worn a hat and my hair that I take such pains to straighten, turned back to
its natural corkscrews in no time flat. Since we had a bit of work to do later
at our warehouse we had brought bags full of warm clothes to change into.
Changing clothes completely in the pouring rain hiding behind the car is a bit
of an art but sometimes has to be done. Keeping wet clothes on for hours is not
an option. Wild life count: four Kites and a Green Woody and of course the
usual robin where we leave the car; Must take some feed next time as I am sure
he would feed out of your hand.
We went to Belinda’s for tea
coffee and chatter with Birgit before heading to work. Steve sat me at a table
to write labels out for the furniture and brought the workshop heater over to
keep me warm as I sat there. He kept
coming back to feel my hands; I am fully aware that I am seventy seven but I
hate being looked after and treated like an old lady! My job had to be done
because if it was left to Steve it would all be ‘writ rotten’ and nobody can
read his scribble, not even him.
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