I've had a pretty easy weekend by my standards, with just the Henley Hilly 100 Audax on Saturday, followed by the Farleigh Wallop 10K on Sunday and a bit of pottering around. There's a couple of things you need to know about the Henley Hilly 100, Firstly its only 100K, Secondly it never actually goes to Henley (which isn't necessarily a bad thing), and thirdly, as the name suggests its pretty hilly. For some reason though it's no longer hilly enough to gain any AAA points even though it was last year, so either the rules have been changed, or there's been some hardcore erosion going on as the routes the same. But that's not a problem, because it's a great little ride however you look at it. I took the van up Friday night after tea as "The Emma" was at work, found a nice secluded spot near the start and after a quick pint of the black stuff, settled in to listen to the rain beating on the roof. 8 hours later, the rain was still beating down on the roof and it was looking like it was going to be another wet feet day. Not to be discouraged though there was a good turn out at the start considering the conditions, and whilst the actual rain had stopped it was still pretty damp when we set of at 09:00. The route takes in some lovely little lanes through the Chilterns, although most of the road surfaces leave a lot to be desired, with numerous pot holes and plenty of loose gravel, all mixed up with plenty of good old climbing and some white knuckle descents for good measure. Luckily, despite a few light showers in the first hour, it stayed dry for the remainder of the day, although the wind did pick up for the second half, which, combined with the hills, made for some hard going at times. I think this is what is normally described as "character building" and "all part of the fun" though. All in all it was a good day out, hilly enough to give you a good workout and get the old heart rate up a bit, but not so silly as to be off putting (although anyone with any sense might think differently) and as per usual I'm glad I didn't let the little bit of rain at the start put me off. I could easily have heard the rain drumming on the roof, turned over and gone back to sleep, but look at what I'd have missed! The only other thing of note from Saturday and it's still something that I can't get my head around, is how under prepared some people are. I'll grant you it was only 100 Km, so not a big day out, and a stepping stone for a lot of riders who are looking towards longer distances, but I stopped three times to help out people who didn't have the right kit (one didn't have the route with him! and 2 mechanical problems). Whilst it might seem appealing to save a bit of weight by running lightweight components, not carrying any tools or additional puncture repair kit, or not taking any cold / wet weather kit because the suns shining, the great British roads and weather have a habit of biting you on the back side if your not careful. Personally I'd rather lug around an extra Kilo of kit, run higher spoke count wheels with tougher tyres, carry a basic tool kit, first aid kit (including a space blanket just in case), spare warm layer and have a means of knowing exactly where I am, in case, God forbid, I ever need to call the emergency services and know that I can look after myself, rather than try to cut weight to get home 2 minutes faster. The chances are I'll still be home first, because I wont be stopping every 2 minutes to fix a puncture or trying to warm up. And if your that worried about a bit of extra weight, skip a few puddings and swap that weight for a puncture repair kit! As I lay in bed Saturday night listening to the rain lash the bedroom windows and the wind billowing the curtains my heart went out to the lovely people of Hatch Warren Runners, who's flagship event, the amazing Farleigh Wallop 10K seems to be plagued by bad weather. The weekends either side always seem to be lovely, but the Sunday of the Farleigh Wallop 10K appears to be jinxed. I ran last year in what can only be described as a biblical rainstorm and this year wasn't looking much better. By the time we got lined up at the start though the rain had just about stopped and whilst still blustery it was looking like a reasonable day for running. Having not run competitively since June (and limited running of any sort) I had no real idea where my fitness levels were, or how today was going to pan out, but "in for a penny - in for a pound", I got warmed up and took my now traditional place towards the front of the pack. It's always tricky to know how far forward to start. Too far back and you get stuck behind all the slower runners and those that think they're fast but actually have no place being anywhere near the front. Too close to the front and it's easy to get carried away pace matching the really fast guys and burn yourself out within the first mile or so and as such a fine balance is required. The start drops downhill before a short sharp climb, followed by a long steady descent for about a mile and, as expected, as soon as the whistle sounded the fast guys took off like a scalded cat. I managed to gain a few places on the uphill and then fell in behind someone for the long single track descent. The pace was fast, but just about manageable and we quickly covered the first 1 1/2 miles and were into the climbing proper. The uphill pace was still way too fast to make up any real ground, but I managed to gain another couple of places along this section and was feeling reasonably good. The fast start soon started to tell though and by the time the half way marker came along I was beginning to suffer. Half way marked a turn into wind and a long slow uphill slog. Within a few seconds I was blowing hard and well into the red, there was no way I could hold the pace we had been doing and slowed slightly to try and get my breathing under control. Surprisingly I was still catching glimpses of the man in front through the trees and whilst not gaining on him, he wasn't pulling away either. By listening in to the marshals as I went past I could get a pretty good idea of how far behind the next person was too and they didn't seem to be gaining on me either, obviously although I had slowed slightly so had my closest rivals. It's good for the moral to know that everyone is suffering the same and it's not just you that's slowed down, so with the breathing now under control, and the pace slowed to something that I could probably just about hold to the end it was just a case of hanging on for another 4km. Simples! And manage to hold on I did, with occasional glimpses of the man in front and no sign of being caught from behind, it was just a case of head down, keep pushing, ignore the hurt, and go. I had no idea how I was doing for time as I'd forgotten my watch and likewise had no idea how I was placed position wise due to the limited view in front along the trail. The first real indication I had that I was actually doing alright coming after a final balls out push to the line, with a glimpse at the timing clock showing 00:45:12 as I crossed the line! Unexpected was an understatement, I ran the same course in 00:46:29 last year and didn't think I would be anywhere near that this year, let alone faster. After all the months through the summer, struggling to get over my ankle problem and wondering if I was ever even going to run again, let alone be competitive, it came as a massive surprise. To be totally honest I went out too fast at the start and paid for it in the middle section, a slightly slower start and I could possibly have picked up another place or two at the end. Starting too fast is a school boy mistake and one that I know only too well to avoid, its hard not to get carried away in the heat of the moment though and I defiantly paid for it later on. I'll happily take 45:12 though, especially as that gave me 8th overall from a field of 241 and 1st in my age category. (Results). That's not a bad mornings work, on what is a beautiful course and a credit to the Hatch Warren Runners who gave up their weekend (and stood out in the rain) to put on such a superb event. After my mornings efforts a lazy Sunday afternoon was in order, so a couple of hours on the allotment, which is starting to look very Autumnal and a bit of bike cleaning was all I really managed.
I picked the last of the cucumbers and composted the plants, thinned out the foliage on the peppers and tomato plants to let a bit more air circulate between them and hopefully keep the mildew down, planted some spring Purple Sprouting Broccoli and Kale and generally just pottered around between rain showers. Another couple of weeks and the Tomato's and Peppers will be finished and the big Autumn clean up and dig will be well under way. Maybe I'm getting old, but I really don't know where the time goes, it doesn't seem like 2 minutes ago that I sowed all these things!
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Note to self 1: Next time I'm signing the praises of our glorious September weather, don't; it's sure to end in tears!
Note to self 2: Next time I'm looking for a new hobby; pick one that doesn't involve spending long periods of time with your shoes full of water! Running, cycling and even the allotment seem to often result in wet feet. Running from the wet grass and rain, cycling because it rains as often as it doesn't, and the allotment; because no matter how careful I am, I still manage to spill water down the back of my legs and into my shoes when watering! Sunday was all about Audax and more specifically the The Wylye and Ribble valley 200K. Which is why I was stood, with some fellow lunatics, in a car park in Denmead at 07:30, on what must have been one of the warmest and most humid mornings of the year, eyeing the sky nervously, whilst discussing how long we were going to stay dry for. The answer, you will be pleased to know, was not very long! The route took us up through the top of the South Downs, through Winchester and Stockbridge, towards the first control at Amesbury, by which time the sky's had opened and succeeded in filling my shoes to the brim with dirty, wet, rain water! Despite the rain, it remained warm and humid all day, and whilst I briefly stopped to put on a jacket, it was still quite pleasant, if a touch damp, in shorts. A quick cafe stop for a brew and proof of passage stamp and it was back out into the rain for the second leg. I must confess that the rain did ease off after an hour or so and did little to spoil what was a picturesque, yet hilly ride, especially the second leg, which managed to find every hill between the Wylye valley and the lunchtime stop at Cranborne, each seemingly steeper and longer than the last. A not so light lunch, consisting of a toasted Bacon, Brie and Cranberry sandwich, washed down with a massive slice of sticky toffee cake and a pot of tea, at the garden center cafe in Cranborne, soon saw my tired legs revived. I'd be more than happy to recommend this little haven if your ever passing down that way, great food, friendly, fast service and generous portions to boot. Luckily the final leg wasn't quite as hilly as the first two, passing across the top of the New Forest, before looping high around the top of Southampton to get back to the start. Possibly a bit controversially on my part, I'm not sure that the New Forest is all it's cracked up to be. Don't get me wrong, the forested bit is lovely, with it's deciduous woodland and wild ponies. But the bit at the top, I'm not so sure. It's pretty barren moorland and on anything but the nicest days of the year is just like any other open moor, exposed, cold, windy and wet, and whilst the rain was holding off it was still pretty breezy and exposed. Personally, I'd take the Test Valley, High Weald Area Of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB) or North Wessex Downs AONB , over the New Forest, but what do I know? And that, was that, 200 Km (that's 126 miles in old money) done and dusted. A lovely route on a day that could have been far worse weather wise and one I'd defiantly like to do again. If nothing else it would be nice to do it in better weather to take in the views that must have been at the top of all those hills! When the weathers bad it's hard not to just get your head down and focus on getting the job done, missing out on the little bit's you notice when your heads up and the suns shining. Oh, and Note to self 3: Running 22 miles on Saturday and then doing 200 Km on Sunday is not the best idea I've ever had. My legs certainly didn't appreciate it, and it undoubtedly made what was already a petty tough, hilly 200, into a bit of a slog. Apparently, "there's no gain without pain" though, just like "it's not training if it's not raining". So will I learn from that? What do you think? Like I'm going to miss out on the opportunity to get outside just because it makes my legs hurt a bit! After last weeks successful 15 mile run and a couple of pain free 7 mile efforts in the week the time has finally come to push the mileage a bit higher and see how good the old ankle really is. Like most things I should probably have waited a bit longer and bought the mileage back up a lot slower, but there's a run I want to do in a couple of weeks time and I really need to know if it's going to be achievable, or not, so I can start making arrangements. So that's how I found myself stood in the car park at Old Alresford early Saturday morning waiting for the GPS to find some satellites and pull up the route I walked on the Oxdrove Way a couple of weeks back. It was a nice bit of rolling countryside, with well maintained paths which hopefully avoid to much ankle twisting, and at 22 miles is far enough to really push the legs without killing myself. With the sun shining (I'm loving this September lark) and a gentle breeze blowing it was a lovely day for running and the miles fairly flew past. There's no doubt trail running, whilst tending to be slower than on the road, defiantly passes the time far faster. There's a lot more to occupy your mind, not only some lovely scenery to admire but your constantly thinking about where your going, moving around the track, looking for the best route to cover the distance and avoiding the ankle traps and dog dung! Don't get me wrong I love road running, you can switch off and think about your latest project or attempt at world domination, but it can get pretty monotonous when your 3 hours in and getting tired! Anyway, more importantly, a Gnats chuff under 3:15 saw me back to the van with the sun still shining and 22 miles under my belt. The old ankle started to get a bit tender from about the 19 mile point which I suppose is to be expected and continued to feel a bit sore all afternoon. However, I'm pretty happy with the days efforts, considering that apart from last weekend the farthest I've run since the start of June is 7 miles, my legs felt pretty good and although not quick was at a pace that I felt was easily sustainable. I'm off Audaxing tomorrow, so either my scabby ankle will recover and I'll be a happy bunny, ready to get on with my winter running plans, or I'll be back to hobbling around and cursing myself for my lack of patience, only time will tell! Either way, the bikes in the van, the routes loaded and my pockets full of money to spend on cake, so we'll continue this later!
Unusually, or maybe not for September, which is often quite nice, the weather was predicted to be good again at the weekend, and as my latest acquisition had arrived in the week it seemed a shame not to get out and give it a trial. Knowing that we've probably not got many more warm days or nights left this year, I'd remortgaged the house, tried to sell "The Emma" and splashed out in the week on a new Sleeping mat. Allegedly this was going to be the end of cold nights and offer the best sleeping experience ever, although that's not hard compared to a good old foam roll mat, which is all the military think you will ever need, but we shall see and I'm not holding my breath! I'd come up with what I hoped would be a nice little route for a Friday night and Saturday cycling mini adventure, so I was out of work like the proverbial whatsit through a goose, bike already packed and on the road for 17:00 on a glorious early autumn evening. Plodding along at a steady pace, stopping only to sort out a puncture (unusually the inner tube split along the join), grab a brew and eat my tea, (left over pasta from the night before if you must know). All of which, helpfully, coincided nicely with putting on a few more layers and sitting out the bit of twilight that I always think is the most hazardous "Sorry mate I didn't see you with your multiple lights and bright clothes in the not quite dark", the evening turned into a beautiful, still and clear night. As it gets dark, the world is transformed around you, the road narrows to the area you can see in your lights, you begin to hear the calls of the owl's replacing the daytime birds, and become aware of the rustle of other unseen creatures in the hedgerows. You soon notice the considerable temperature difference between the high and low ground and feel the chilled air coming from rivers and streams, all things you would never notice from a car, cocooned inside your warm sphere with the radio on and the engine noise drowning out the passing world. Pushing on until about 22:00 I found an out of the way spot to spend the night and with the new Sleeping mat inflated and waiting to welcome me, was tucked up in my Bivvy by 23:00. To say it was a beautiful night though would be an understatement, the moon was full and with a clear sky lit the world in a beautiful pale light, silhouetting the trees against the sky and casting long dark shadows. laying watching the stars, snug in my sleeping bag, I would struggle to think of somewhere I would rather be, better in my opinion that the finest hotels. Up again at first light and on my way again soon after, there was a definite chill in the air, half an hour or so on the road to warm up and a breakfast of porridge by the roadside set me up well for the push back home though. Slowly loosing the layers as the morning progressed I was soon back to shorts and a T shirt, cruising sedately through the countryside, breathing in the smells of the approaching autumn and admiring the slowly changing colours of the trees, for an uneventful ride towards home. I paused for a while towards the top of the Devils Punch Bowl to chat with a delightful fellow Audaxer. You can normally tell the long distance cyclists, they're the ones that look like tramps on a bike, with a mix of well worn and heavily faded high end kit, matched with things from the pound shop. Probably riding a bike from a manufacturer that no one else will ever have heard of, fitted with a totally random set of bits (Aero bars on your touring bike sir?). Everything though will be focused on comfort and will have been worked out during many long miles sat on their leather saddle. If you ask where they are off too, you'll probably get a non committal answer that could mean anything from, I'm just off to the shops (despite the fact the nearest shops are 30 miles away) to I'm just back from riding around the world. Despite stopping talking, stopping for brews, stopping to pick blackberries, stopping for biscuits, stopping to look at random stuff and just stopping because my legs weren't really feeling it, I was back home putting the kettle on ("The Emma's" gone away for a reunion so I had to make my own tea) in time for a late lunch. Not a bad day out if I do say so myself, and better than sitting at home, watching repeats on the magic picture box. After an afternoon catching up on a few odd jobs around the house and with no Emma to amuse me, I was soon back to pacing around like a caged gibbon. With there being nothing to keep me at home it was pretty easy to make a last minute decision to grab some running kit and the van and head up to Kingsclere to watch the sun go down and get in a few miles running along the Wayfarers walk in the morning. Being a clear night and with a better vantage point than Friday night, I was treated to not only a stupendous sunset, but getting to see the moon rising over the hill from the other direction, slowly getting bigger and brighter and fading the stars out with its extreme luminescence. A great nights sleep and back up in time to watch the sun doing the same trick as the moon had managed the night before, brew in hand, a smile on my face and a great start to the day, it doesn't get much better than that. After another brew and breakfast sat in the early morning sun I was good to go by 08:00, well before it got too warm and all the dog botherer's with their mile long extendable leads, perfectly designed to trip you up, and out of control hounds arrived. It was a beautiful morning for running and with some stunning scenery to look at and E.L.O playing quietly in my ears (Mr Blue Sky anyone) the 15 mile target for the day was quickly knocked off and I was back at the van by 10:15, cooling down sat in the sun, with a brew on, big smile on my face and feet up. More importantly though, my dodgy left ankle seemed to hold up fairly well, although Monday morning will be the telling point once it's had a chance to stiffen up, but hopefully, 16 weeks (not that I'm counting) after finally admitting it was bolloxed, I seem to be getting somewhere. Not a bad weekend out and about then, and by being the early bird I still had time to catch the worm. Although not fancying worms for tea, I opted to spend the afternoon on the allotment, creosoting the shed and pottering about. Oh, and the Sleeping mat, well it felt pretty good, very comfortable considering its only 6.5cm thick and weighs 700g, it wasn't actually that cold though, so we will have to wait and see how well insulated it actually is.
And my new Audax friend, well, he told me all about a couple of people he was friends with that had walked lands from End to John-o-Groats. Now if I had a bucket list and a couple of months spare! Saturday was going to be a bit tight for time, somewhat limiting my chances of getting out and about. Mainly because some idiot (me), had gone and booked an appointment at the bank for 11:00. I mean why would I do that, it pretty much writes off the whole day, and all for something that I could have just done over the internet if the bank knob had told me it was possible. On the positive side though, I got a reminder of how lucky I am not to have to spend my days trapped in a windowless office with nothing to look at but a computer screen. That will teach you for wasting my time bank worker type! Any way, I digress. Due to my poor time planning The Emma had volunteered to drop me off at Swallowfield (after a cheeky pub lunch, and more to get me out from under her feet than some random act of kindness), with the plan being to walk back down to Aldershot along the Blackwater Valley path, encompassing a cheeky overnight bivvy and then get the train home from Aldershot Sunday morning. I was on my way for 14:00, with the sun trying to break through and thoroughly enjoyed the first couple of hours walking. The route mainly follows quiet country lanes with diversions onto the river bank and a fairly long stint through what would have originally been gravel pits, but have now been flooded to make nature reserves and water sports areas. However, at about the 10 mile point it becomes a lot more urban, diverting into Camberly and Sandhurst, at which point I realised I might have a bit of a problem. Checking the map, the route continues to be quite urban all the way to Aldershot, and it looked like I was either going to struggle to find somewhere to camp, or if I pushed on, end up at the train station just after the last train departed. Bugger! Another brew stop and a bit of a rethink and I realised that I could cut the corner at Camberly, dive across to Fleet, and pick up the Basingstoke canal. Then from there either get a train home from Hook on Sunday morning, or, better still, just walk back. Not only would this increase the weekends mileage to 35 or so miles, but there are plenty of wild camping opportunities along the canal, so it looked like a winner all round. I managed to find a reasonable route from Camberly across to Fleet using the Minley MOD Training area and Fleet ponds (just 1/2 a mile dodging traffic along the link road) and after a quick food stop in Fleet was on the canal towpath by 21:00. Another hour in the dark saw me back out of Fleet and into open countryside, hammock up, and tucked up warm and toasty in bed before the witching hour. The temperature must have dropped pretty low in the night and it got quite chilly just before dawn. Up by 06:00, packed away, and off before anyone told me I couldn't stay there, the morning mist gently rising off the canal as the sun came up more than made up for the low temperatures (and I can't have been that cold in the night as I couldn't be bothered to get up and put any more clothes on). A couple of stops during the morning for breakfast, brews and biscuits, saw me back home for a few minutes after 13:00, with a total of 36 miles under my belt in 24 hours. That's not bad going in my opinion, especially considering I spent 7 hours of it in bed, although the walking's pan flat so it's not exactly hard going. So what's all this drivel got to do with apple scrumping I hear you ask? Well, as I was wandering along, I happened across an apple tree overhanging the path. Hoping that I wouldn't succumb to the same fate as Snow White, I helped myself to an apple, and delicious it was too.
This little act of theft (or scrumping as it's known) on my part, got me wondering how we have got from a point where children (and young adults) have gone from risking a thick ear or a punt up the arse in order to get there hands on a couple of apples, to the current situation. I would hazard a guess that now, most kids, and probably quite a few adults, wouldn't know an apple tree if it fell on them, let alone know where to go and find one to borrow a few apples from. Likewise in our current times of plenty and the all year round availability of out of season fruit and veg, most wouldn't know the simple joy of picking and eating a ripe, juicy, crisp apple straight off the tree. Beat's those cardboard ones from the supermarket hands down! I'll leave you to ponder that one whilst I go and plan my next adventure! I've recently been introduced to the use of calf compression sleeves for running. If I'm going to get cramp, which I don't very often, it's always my L/H calf which goes first, often followed shortly afterwards by the right. A bit of googling identified that compression sleeves might help in this department and a pair where duly sourced.
Now, whilst I've not used them for any long runs so far, mainly because I'm still trying to get back to some decent mileages after my summer of L/H Peroneal tendon issues, I have been up to 7 miles in them and I'm sold. They may not help with the cramp, we will have to see as the mileages increase again, but they defiantly stop your calf's from flopping around and feel pretty good to run in. To this end I've ordered another couple of pairs, which arrived today. Having just got back from my evening run, I was stood, happily extolling their virtues to the head of mocking (A.K.A The Emma). "These are great" says I, "2 pairs for £24, bargain"! the instantaneous reply "you've spent £24 on socks without ends" rapidly took the shine off my new purchase, and I suppose she's got a point. Running's supposed to be a low cost sport, but by the time I've got through a couple of pairs of trainers a year, worn out a few pairs of socks, paid for a few medals and T shirts I don't need, it soon adds up, and all I've got to show for it is sore legs and socks with no ends. But at least my calf's are feeling good! With Emma scheduled for an early start on Saturday and my original plans scuppered by our friends at South West Trains deciding to get the donkey jackets and oil drum braziers out, a slight change of plan was required. The weather was still too good to not get out and about so I set off after tea on Friday night in the trusty van for a cheeky overnight stay and early start, planning on doing a few miles of pleasant walking on the Oxdrove Way . Up as the sun rose and on the trail by 07:30 the birds were singing and the day quickly warmed up enough for just a T shirt and surprisingly stayed that way until 20 seconds after I got back to the van (21 miles and 8 hours later) when it absolutely chucked it down, it's not very often I get lucky but it seems the walking gods were smiling on me today. I've no idea what was going on at lunchtime though, having spent ages looking for somewhere to sit and brew up that wasn't a tinder dry corn field and that had an obligatory back resting tree, my chosen spot was on the grass verge of a quiet road junction in the middle of no where with a pleasant view and a comfortable slope to rest on.
Imagine my surprise then, when no sooner had the water boiled than a road sweeper appeared from out of nowhere and proceeded to sweep the verges right where I was happily sat having my lunch, nearly deafening me in the process and covering everything in a fine layer of dust. I mean come on, what are the chances of that, I'm in the middle of nowhere, it's 13:30 on a Saturday afternoon and your going to sweep the road exactly where I've chosen to have my lunch, give me a break! The only other thing of real interest from the day is the little obelisk above Old Alresford. It's out in the middle of a field all fenced off with the grass neatly cut around it but no indication as to who or what its for. Looking at the dates on the plinth which appears to have been recently attached as it doesn't match the other stone work, doesn't shed much light on matters and a google search of Melita + Alresford (a pretty unusual name so I thought it might come back with an answer) seems to indicate that a Melita owns the dry cleaners? Another mystery that obviously needs a bit more looking into when I've got a spare 1/2 hour. In our front garden running alongside the path is an area that I call the Orchard and Emma calls "Paul's sticks". Now my Orchard consists of 5 fruit trees on dwarf root stock (so they stay little), 2 Apples, 1 Plum, 1 Cherry and a 1 Pear tree, all of which were planted in the autumn of 2017 and which I think you will find is sufficient for an orchard! Whilst the Apples fruited last year, this is the first year that the Plum has borne any real fruit and fruit it has. Despite my eating at least a dozen plums a day for the past 3 weeks I'm struggling to keep up, so alternative uses for plums have had to be sought. I've tried making plum jam before and whilst they make a delicious jam the skins are a bit problematic as is de-stoning the little blighters.
So as an easier option is called for and plum gin it is. Going on previous experiments with Sloe's, Raspberries, Blackberries, Rhubarb and other assorted left overs this should be good! A quick trip to our favorite supplier of cheap own brand gin and a Kilner jar later and having picked, sliced into quarters, added a bit of sugar to taste and thrown in half a bottle of gin, Bob's your uncle as they say. These will get a shake every day for a week or so to dissolve the sugar and mix everything up and then get hidden away with all the other bottles, jars and potions in a cool dark place for a couple of months and hopefully we will have the makings of a what will be a nice tipple to warm the soul sat in front of the fire on a winters evening. And if it turns out to be a disaster then Christmas presents it is! |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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