Short Jaunt

Waking before six at this time of year is not a bad thing in my view, unless like me you have had insufficient sleep yet the brain will not close down.  This dumb approach to life left me spotting this picture first thing and attempting to reproduce the yellowness of the early morning sun, quite something today.  Within a few minutes I was on the bike and racing slowly towards the old railway in an attempt to enjoy cycling when its quiet.

Fifteen minutes later and the cloud was beginning to blot out the sun, typical.  Instead I pondered over the farmer who has sown wheat here and is half way through harvesting the crop.  He has been desperate to sell to a local money grabbing developer for years and once again has put in a bid to erect around 500 houses.  This would fill the space between town and village causing much upset and ruining the old railway as a glimpse of country much loved and required by folks like me.  
Who can blame a farmer for wanting out?  Once Bexit comes and the promises of Brexiteers are seen as hollow regarding the cash farmers would receive, fishermen have just began t understand that also, then food production will be unprofitable and Farmer Jones's all over the shop will be unhappy.  However a strenuous effort by people with talent has opposed this move once again and it may well be that they will succeed in stopping this development.  Several others are ongoing all around this area, the Tories are keen to build on 'green land' as their friends the developers are cashing in and they get something out of it, those with expensive homes get bills and debt while we all lose a green lung.    

Farmer Jones has got the huff once again and forced the Rangers to erect fences ensuring the public do not take their dogs onto his land, something they have been doing to his fallow fields for years.  Behind this one he has also chopped trees and attempted vainly to block the long established path and ensure he is continued to be loved by local residents.  Further up the road a similar large plot was threatened with housebuilding and someone bought the fields and turned them into a decent nature reserve, well it will be in a few years when grown.  That would cost a great deal here however as the area is quite extensive.  

 
How nice to see the bike out in the country again.  Not that I went far, just far enough to wake me up, and then return to do the ironing and have a jolly day with that....any woman willing to lend a hand?

Morning Trip...

Just after six this morning the brain damaged head of mind got me out on my bike to see if it and I still worked.  In bright sun and with only an occasional dog walker or early morn jogger to pass I slogged along further than my knees would like.   For twenty minutes I enjoyed running around the quiet town and arrived home in fine fettle, except that when leaving the bike I could hardly walk!
However I forced myself to trundle about the park to loosen my pins again.  
Since then I have done nothing but stare at the laptop, eat, watch or listen to football and wonder why so may people go out in the sun on a Saturday.  It's an easy life today, but a lot of creaking going on.

 
The other day there was an item re the couple who won £57 million on the Lottery.  They were pictured in the paper shaking champagne bottles and talking of how they almost lost the ticket.  I was not impressed.  Winning the Lottery is a good thing and after I read this I found it hard not to dwell on what I would do with the cash one seaside home coming up I think, but on the other hand I would not be allowing them publicity revealing my name and how much I had won.
It appears that if you win and accept publicity the Lottery people give advice on making the most of then money, no publicity no advice.  I think it may be possible to find such advice my myself in reality. The publicity might be seen as a safe bet when suddenly confronted by such a large amount yet on the other hand you are now known to be rich and the media, evil, selfish and abusers of the rich, will follow you daily seeking bad stories to reveal to the voyeuristic readership.  Whatever hard luck you endure will be front page news, especially on slow news days, and those that know will wish for a handout from the media for tales of past misdeeds.  Of course I have always been nice, so this is not a problem for me but you never know what may arise once your name as a very wealthy Lottery winner is known.  Good job I trust Jesus and do not buy these things, yet if I could just have that house...

  

Morning Cycle for Fuit & Veg

Just after half six this morning I got on my clean, oiled, yet still rusty in many places bike, and forced my knees to whirl me around town.  As the blinding sun rose I snapped with my new camera, a present from above, this bird enjoying the rising warmth while trying to avoid the chill in the wind.  All around the birds were either finishing breakfast or like this one sitting in the sun awaiting a mate. Spring is in the air indeed!
The early morn is a lovely time to be up and about.  Traffic is slight, only those forced to work bleary eyed pass by, and occasional dog walkers, just as bleary, mutter 'Good morning' while following the English manner of pretending they did not see you until you speak.  The dogs are more open about their thoughts.  

   
'Ichabod' and I have been together now for almost 18 years.  One day I will ensure everything is in the right position and that the gears are at the right tension, until then we travel on happily, but very slowly! These days many have become infatuated with professional cycle racing and this area is flat enough for those who consider themselves manly enough to wear Lycra and tear along the roads for a hundred miles or so.  I worked with one or two who have done this around here, I am not one of them!  The term 'flat' maybe true in comparison to the Scottish highlands however I can assure you there are hills and long slopes which while a delight to go down are a pain to go up.  My attempts at the 'manly' approach failed long before 'Ichabod' arrived.  
Thinking on this in a couple of months the women's cycle race will pass by my door.  A letter recently fell through the door informing me of the road closures etc.  Such a shame the 'Tour de France' came close last year but never passed by my window.  At least the roads will get some treatment and we will all benefit from that.  Canny have a cycle race where potholes exist.

In an effort to stop these virii that keep giving me nasty symptoms I am endeavouring to eat more fruit and veg.  After getting off the bike I hobbled, slower than usual, round to Tesco and obtained some of the goodies from there and the rest from my usual fruit & veg man.  That done I have already stuffed a healthy breakfast down the throat and am convinced this will keep me on the run! An attempt must be made to eat more fruit and veg as it is better for us than the muck we normally have.  So much we eat contains things that do us no harm if eaten occasionally but build up and make us suffer.  No wonder kids go mad with things when they are pumped full of sugar and additives and things we do not get told about.  I am reminded of that biblical king who went mad and ate grass like a donkey for seven years. The reason was obvious, Daniel the prophet refused the rich foods given him and ate veg, he remained healthy, the king stuffed only with the richest food became toxic and the grass cured him, though slowly. I am told this has been recorded elsewhere among others also but have no links.  I am sufficiently donkey like in every way to wish to avoid being found in the park amongst the pigeons and crows early in the day eating grass.  The council would not like this.

Now I have the day before me and my knees are beginning to seize up, I'm back off to bed! 

A 'Penny' for your thoughts.

After the storm the world has returned to normal sadly.  A thousand children, plus mums, arrived in the museum before I woke up this morning.  Money was exchanged however, Kids and mums were happy, especially the two who got in for nothing, and the place was put back to normal quickly enough.  One mum phoned to book the kid in for an event and asked about 'Penny Farthings.'  We have one and tomorrow she and her kid can see one for herself.  What a great idea these were.  

The 'bone shaker,' that went before (pictured above, made by Lake & Elliot) enabled the eager rider to achieve a decent speed however the large 'Penny' wheel of the later bike gave their rider the speed advantage with no more effort.  Bright young things took to these willingly, even though the first 'Penny Farthings' bikes had a very simple brake which if handled badly left the rider far ahead of his bike!  These interesting creations were not found on tarmac roads such as we have today, the majority of the roads would be poor quality I suspect, and not very comfortable in winter. The 'Bone shaker' was well named! Of course the safety bicycle came along both these were left far behind.  The safety bike had wheels the same size, gears, and brakes.  No wonder it was safe, although it may well cost much more than a man's weekly wage.  Now I am in the mood to jump on my bike and race off down the road, oh dear, it's dark, I had better forget that idea for now.    

Note the broken brake (string) cable!

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Sodden Saturday

Wandering about in the drizzle I noticed this bike chained up against a lamppost.  As it has been there for two weeks I am now wondering about the quality of local thieves.  A bike chained up for any length of time would disappear in many parts of this land yet here not even the gypos have gone off with it!  When you consider the number of people passing by, kids interested in bikes, stragglers, van drivers, it is a surprise to see this one remaining here.
On the other hand who owns it?  What happened to them?  Have they forgotten the thing? Did they arrive on the bike before popping in to the registry office behind the wall, get married and lose interest?  Were they arrested for a discretion in the park and find themselves detained at her majesties pleasure, or are they in the council offices waiting even yet for an answer to their query?  They could be some time yet I fear!  Is it of course possible they parked it to speak to a passing alien and now reside on Alpha Centura?  Maybe I could sell the 'Daily Star' a story to that end, they might go for it.  Short story writers could have a field day with this situation.  

The crow claimed to know nothing.  He and his mates gather here daily, encouraged by the brats in the park leaving their lunch strewn across the grounds, but while seeing everything say nothing. Instead they just eat, wander about snootily, scare of the passing seagulls and go about their business in the manner of their forefathers.  
Of course, he could be a Rook you know....

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Ichabod and I

Ichabod, the bike that is, and I struggled up the old railway early this morning before my mind was wide enough awake to realise what I was doing.  My knees are now well able to explain the short trip, and loudly at that!  A chap I know belongs to one of those cycling groups, you know the type, helmets, shorts, bright tight jerseys and riding bikes costing several hundred pounds, well he was commenting on their 'run' of just over a hundred miles.  They had done a bit more the day before!  These imitation Tour de France types sometimes come past here, and if on telly I will watch it myself.  Men like the idea of being tough or strong enough to ride up hills and speed along straight rods, always comparing the time between your past time and some other superstars.  Incidentally I watched a programme featuring Clare Balding, a lass referred to by one man as 'Dyke on a Bike,' cycling around the hill of Devon in one of those excellent short travel programmes.  Indeed I like this type of thing and Balding does present herself well here.  However she mentions the small point that she was on a 'short run,' of just 30 miles!  I considered this during my ride up the slope and calculated that by turning back I would get home after completing 3 miles.  My knees agreed that was far enough today!

Farmer Jones will be happy that in spite of the rain his crop is succeeding this year.  I am claiming this is wheat but I expect you experts will tell me it is something completely different, like mango or the like.  His wide field looks in quite good nick in spite of the refusal of the council to allow him to sell some fields to a builder who wants to create 500 homes there.  Luckily even our Councillors are too busy planting said 500 houses on a different farm to care for him.  I am glad as this would spoil the old railway for many of us.

It seems like years since I have been up here and the rain has developed the vegetation somewhat!   This stuff lined the path all the way up, in spite of being curtailed by the Rangers who have stopped it encroaching the entire path.  There is something refreshing about breathing in such an atmosphere (unless you have Hay Fever or Asthma I suppose), listening to the birds singing, beasties rummaging through the undergrowth and cheerily allowing occasional cyclists to rush past as they must get to work before eight.  How I love not having to do that these days.  I miss the good bits, the people, the routine but not the hassle, office politics, grumpy folks, and of course the public!  

  
How much better this looks when greenery is everywhere, also when the way home is downhill!

Occasional remnants of the old railway.  A sign to indicate the rise and fall of the track ahead.  Just ride a bike pal and you soon find how far the track rises and falls!  

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Jings it's HOT!

Jings! Crivvens and help ma boab!  It was hot today!  Yes indeed when I was trundling around on the filthy bike the sky was that colour, more or less.  Blue with white vapor trails and very high white clouds spreading out way overhead.  The sun shone brightly as I rode carefully over the broken glass left by wee boys practicing their beer drinking and I felt the sun on my face, not just warm, but hot!  My face feels this yet!  Jings, Hoots man and help ma boab, summer has arrived.

This was the scene at sevenish this morning.  The blue sky, a bit lighter than in the picture, filled with vapour trails from rich people travelling the world or returning from their Easter break.  A very busy time for air traffic control last night it seems.  Why do so many flights occur at such daft times?  Is it just to annoy people living near the airport?

Not that I took time to sit in the sun and read books as I would like, I had to carefully burn my chicken, watch the Dundee United (called Dundee by the English 5Live girl this morning, United Kingdom is it?) versus Celtic semi final, another excellent game spoiled only by Celtic scoring a winning goal in extra time.  Then I got on the bike for 20 minutes after which I was forced to watch most of the English semi-final between two teams, I forget who, they all look the same to me, while stuffing a pizza I found in the freezer down my throat.  (I cooked it first!)

So that's almost another football season finished already.  As I passed I noticed the park has removed the goalposts indicating the wee leagues season has stopped.  No doubt cricket and golf, then the drivel that is tennis will fill the airwaves instead of proper sport.  However if the sun shines like it did today with the warm air bringing heat up from the Med area, then I will jump on a bus or two and see the world, nearby.      

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Another Day Out

The crops are beginning to show through now, as this pic taken from the speeding train shows.  The sweep of the fields always catch my eye, although it does not make for the greatest picture, especially when the sky is gray.  I listened to the messages Richard Branson and his MI6 friends give us secretly as we sped along, but mostly my attention was taken by the smartly dressed young lass who journeyed one stop only and the smell of disinfectant that came from an Asian man suffering a cold.  With my luck I suspect I will be a Man Flu disaster area soon.  Why do such people leave the house I ask?

The weeping willows appear to be bright intelligent trees.  If you must weep, weep into a river I say.  I did wonder about the drought at this point.  Farmers want water and here we have a full river, why not put it to use?  Rather than let it flow into the estuary use the water on the fields.  there must be a legal way of doing this?  No point in farmers, and ourselves, losing crops I say.

  

I am not keen on 'candid shots' of people, I see them as an intrusion, however I did wish a shot of this man's bike.  I would say it was somewhat overloaded myself, and the bag on the ground he had on his back!  Was he off camping?  is he one of the homeless?  Is this how he makes his living perhaps, a travel writer with an angle?  When I made my mammoth ride I had two saddlebags and as little as possible in them.  How much does he carry?  Is he a member of 3 para, stationed here, on his way home for Easter?  I found myself a little intrigued, but just looking at him and imagining the struggle up hill made me tired.  I climbed aboard the train and went home to bed.

The gratuitous train picture!  You all want to see one, admit it!  

  

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17 Mile (ish) Trip

Huge covering of mist greeted us today, however by half seven the sun broke through as I pedalled slowly past the early morning dog walkers and huffed and puffed my way to the back roads.  Here I delighted in avoiding dead rabbits and various birds left by speeding careless, or uncaring drivers and as yet undiscovered by the crows.  And were there crows?  I'll say!  Of course they could be Rooks but as no-one can tell the difference it makes no difference.  Each time a skwack was heard each nearby tree had a dozen nests.  Soon they will be full of raucous young, deafening anyone within earshot.  I would have pictures but they are remarkably shy and the mist hid the brutes anyway!

The idea when I began was to trundle around the back roads in the sun looking for interesting things.  The mist did hamper this somewhat, as did interesting things that were too far away or too near the windows of the expensive houses that I passed.  I know these houses are expensive as there were Mercedes and the like parked there in abundance.  Now I am not one to look through folks windows but I did notice few people were up and around.  Few closed their curtains either!  While I enjoyed the trip I did make the slight mistake of going down a new road and enjoying the slope downwards.  Great relief from the pedalling but the road sign at the far end pointed me towards Dunmow and unwilling to go back up the slope I foolishly went on, this was far too far from home for my knees.  There was nothing for it but to continue until and hope for a way back to appear.  Luckily I stumbled on a road back and ended up in Felsted instead.

Felsted has yet another 12th century church and I suspect a Saxon one stood there for a while before this time.  Again possibly this spot was used as a pagan site even before the Romans began their tour of Brittanica.  A lovely church, closed today sadly while they spend money renovating the place.  Nice door at the base of the tower, with a Norman arch (please confirm).

Just how many people have passed through this door over the years I wondered?  Today I suspect merely those intent of playing the bells that hang high above, certainly not to fix the clock on the side that appears to have been stuck at three minutes past twelve for ten years!  Right next to the church is an old school building dating to the 1500's.  I wondered why there were names cut into the wood.  Graffiti has always been with us.  We must let the world know we exist.

The flash was required as they lie in a darkened alleyway, but it is possible to make out some names, and the date 1806.  About that time the school moved to an impressive site just down the road and became a major public school.  The school was popular enough for special trains to run from Liverpool Street to carry the sons of the rich to their education at beginning of term.  

A gurgling river would have made a better picture had I not been looking into the now bright sunshine.  The scene would also have benefited from not having an empty water bottle lying there.  Plastic has brought much benefit to us, as well us filling us with toxic chemicals, but people's inability to dispose of it properly is a pain!  Wallace would agree!

   

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The Bike

The sun was shining, the sky was blue, so this afternoon, once I had worked up the courage, I got out onto the bike for the first time in two months.  I had decided yesterday that another exercise period was required, so this morning I attempted just that and in the afternoon I jumped on the rusting old bike and pedaled around for twenty minutes. The sun may have been shining but the wind was coming from the east, via Siberia, so while my genteel hands were warm and cosy in the gloves my face took an instant dislike to being frozen.  Once home I walked around the town continuing to being frozen but the only way to avoid the knees freezing up also!


This little trip made me wonder how, in 1974, I had managed to cycle from Edinburgh to London!  I had the idea that this would be a cheap holiday so I decided to by a bike!  Now remember that I had not ridden a bike for about ten years yet I searched the papers and found one on sale for £18!  I made my way to the south east of the city and bought a bike from a man who told me that the owner had, "Gone to Australia."  I found myself wondering in he knew he had emigrated.  However I got on the bike, somewhat shakily, and suddenly remembered I had miles to go through Edinburgh streets.  I cannot recall the journey but I suspect it was not straight forward.  A few weeks later I set off on my journey.  Today, having developed the brain a bit better, I would spend six months training for this venture, checking the food I ate, stocking up on carbohydrates and the like.  Then I just jumped on the bike, a packet of sandwiches and a few bags of raisins and nuts or some such, and discovered this was not going to be as easy as I thought.  Cycling to work was one thing, cycling with packs on the bike another, and it rained!


It tool me two hours to be clear of Edinburgh as I wandered through Leith and Musselburgh heading for the A1 and the road south.  It did not take the rest of the week to make me realise I was a clown!  Cycling the back roads of the A1 was pleasant to look at, but the up and down nature of the roads got very wearing, especially as old men on ancient bikes swept past me contemptuously.  Averaging fifty miles a day (today about three!) I made it in a week.  I stopped at a couple of Youth Hostels for the first two nights and was not impressed, so stayed in a couple of pubs and a couple of boarding houses after this.  The locals were friendly and while they considered me an idiot they managed not to do this to my face.  I don't know why, I agreed with them!  Had I been making a telly programme about this I would find adventures, women, excitement, women, crimes, women, rich rewards, women, interesting places full of the rich with women, but as it was just me I merely took a fifty mile shortcut that took me a mere ten miles further on one day, and no women!  The wind, naturally, was constantly against me, the rain knew where I was, I discovered that 'Mild' was acceptable beer, that 15th century pubs bedrooms floors sank in the middle, and that when you pass the Hartlepool United Football Club doorway you are miles of course. I intended to ride through York but took the wrong road and went around it and couldn't be bothered to go back, I stopped to take a picture of the lovely pink sunset over the 'Selby Oil & Cake Works,' forgetting the 'Instamatic' had a Black & White film inside,  and that road signs saying 'Village 1 mile,' are followed at 30 yards by another claiming 'Village 1/2 mile.'  


I suppose it was worth it but how I did it I do not know.  The bike was sent back via a carrier, and took 8 days to arrive, and I returned by train!  No fool me.  Had I the energy would I do this again? Yes, but with a bit more planning this time, and a car as back up!  I used the bike a lot in those days, for work and pleasure.  I cycled over the Forth Bridge and back via Kincardine, up into the lower Pentlands, struggling up the slope, and racing back as Edinburgh slopes down to the Forth so I got home a lot quicker than I went out! The only problem with the bike was that twice the tyre exploded in the middle of the night while at home!  We never worked that one out.  The 'Sun' racer was a good bike for me, but I prefer my present ageing one I must admit.  Maybe I had better try another trip tomorrow as they claim snow is on the way.  Hopefully it will remain in Scotland, where it belongs!

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Country Air

For the first time in a while I cycled, slowly, up the old railway line. I went around eleven as it is quiet then and stupid me forgot the kids are on holiday. Therefore as the sun was shining the families ponderously made their way up the line.  The kids chatting to all the dogs that passed by, when that is they were not wandering through the bushes, the women gossiping about nothing and blocking the way for normal human beings going about their lawful business. The dads being dads, carrying the bags on their backs, sometimes alone with one child, as indeed were a granddad or two, and making me miss the not so young kids way up north.  In one way this was nice to see, in another they just got in the way! A good day out and of course I ache all over now. I must get out more, as people often tell me.


I was attempting to add the 'Beach Boys' song 'Country Air,' because this came to mind when sitting enjoying the sun, greenery and fresh air.  EMI do not allow this (are they not the folks who turned 'The Beatles' down?) so find it on 'YouTube' and hum along as you read.  I was indeed 'humming' when I got home.  

A good day also in that I had a £5 off voucher for the new 'Morrisons' supermarket. The staff, for the most part, are very friendly, you can tell they are new to this game, and I will certainly return next Friday - I have another voucher!  This means that this small town has three large supermarkets represented.  Tesco have three stores, one which has just been redeveloped. Sainsburys have one which is about to be redeveloped and they plan another so big it will replace a small industrial estate! There is already a 'Lidl's' and now the Co-op has closed 'Morrisons' have moved in.  Just how much do the thirty five to forty thousand folks here eat I wonder?  I spent £16:98, and that was after taking advantage of the voucher to stock up, consider how much others must be spending on things they can afford but do not actually need?  Being poor makes me careful with money and I tend to notice prices more.  I also notice how folks buy things with little thought and choosing the label not the product!  An expensive item will be brought rather than try the store version, even though they are just as good nowadays.  Something is bought because it has always been chosen rather than because of any worth it may have.  The tricks of the store also make us all spend on things we don't want and they laugh all the way to the Swiss Bank where the directors store their ill gotten gains. I prefer 'Tesco,' but I will suffer 'Morrisons' for one more week as I use up the last voucher.

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May 8th 1945

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May the eighth is the day to commemorate Victory in Europe Day. Britain with its obsession with the war ought to be marking this day is some manner, but it appears to be ignored by all bar 'Google!' Even the war obsessed 'Daily Mail is ignoring this and concentrating on 'Kate's family,' and 'Muslims targeting Prince Harry.' The dead of the war forgotten for more relevant stories. The celebrations in the streets of the UK on that day in 1945 brought the end of six long years of war. Britain had stood alone, lost about 400,000 dead, suffered damage in most major and many minor places, and now the nation had to pick up the pieces and return to normal. The conflict with Japan may rage on for a few months but most were just glad this 'lot' had come to an end.  What did Britain gain from the war?  Standing alone while the rest of the world looked on gave a moral superiority but little else. The social change hoped for after the Great War that never arrived was demanded this time and Britain had the largest civic change in its history in the following years. However the nation was bankrupt, rationing continued for ten years, the winter was awful, and it appears to many that Germany gained more than Britain did!This causes some to question whether the war was worth it? It was, it had to be fought, and we do those involved an injustice by not at least mentioning them at least in passing.

The Spring light makes me wake at around half five these days, but with a little effort I can doze till nearer half six! Then I jump on the bike, yell loudly, get off and get dressed, and then jump back on the bike, a little more comfortably, and cycle for half an hour. Being Sunday the streets were very quiet and I toddled around in that vain attempt to encourage fitness. On the last lap up the slope in the park the back wheel began to cause problems. A puncture, probably caused by the remnants of the kiddies beer bottles left crashed around the pathways, and joy of joys as always it is the back wheel that has got it. No comments on my weight making that more likely please! My technical abilities will rise to the fore tomorrow. I suspect it will be Thursday at least before I get this fixed properly!  Bah!  Note how clean the bike looks in that photo? Around 14 years alter it looks a bit worn, and now I could not reach the spot in the old railway where I pictured the thing. Oh the aches, oh the muscular pains, oh me.....




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Bike

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Foolishly I was enticed by the yellow sunshine brightening the green of the grass outside my window, the clear blue sky high above and climbed onto the trusty old bike this morning. Hastening out along the short pavement I turned into the side road and rode at speed straight into a police car leaving the station to begin the mid morning patrol! Well I avoided him of course but he seemed peeved for some reason leaving me similarly peeved that  he glared at me in that special manner a policeman always seem able to sum up. Therefore I hastened on my way before he could consider opening his mouth!
'Hastened' is the word! The bike and my knees worked well today. For some reason all was going well as I headed up the slopes of the old railway at high speed, except when avoiding dog walkers obviously! These had also been drawn out by the sun and there is nothing more delightful to a dog than the many varieties of experience available along this walk. Unfit and unspeakable as I am I had intended to struggle up to the village and make my weary way home. Surprisingly I kept going and cycled round the country lanes to the bigger village further on. Even more surprising was the lack of 'white van man' speeding along this route today. The sight of early crops coming through, crows sauntering about the fields confident in their strength, robins singing brightly for a mate, anybody's mate, in the branches, and the sun filled sky kept me going. The change of scenery, the bright sun and the assortments of colours as Spring begins to spring lightened the heart and made passers-by offer cheery 'hello's' to all who pass. Brightly painted ageing houses, some which have stood their ground for several hundred years, made for interesting viewing. The farms I passed can be found on old maps still with their present name. I wonder how long some of these farms have existed? Since the forests that one covered this area  were cleared this land has been farmland. People have come and gone, fortunes have ebbed and flowed, centuries have passed and the general nature has remained the same. Plague and witch hunts, civil war and changeable governments have risen and fallen and these trees, bushes and the wildlife have continued on their own way following the seasons. 
Since the middle of the 19th century we have mostly been town dwellers in the west. Contact with the land has been lost, unless we are granted a bit of garden to grow our own veg. Allotments, that British area of garden leased from the council, have become more and more desired as time passes. People wish them partly to enable a ready supply of vegetables but also to get in touch with the land, something supermarkets cannot give, and indeed who's prices are an encouragement to such 'self help.      
I suppose it's getting on for five miles or so outwards and when my knees realised how far they had gone they began to rebel! In their opinion my arms were not pulling enough and my arms were more than willing to contest this thought. Hurtling through Bannister Green at six miles an hour, good job that slope was there, I decided it was time to return home by the railway bed. Here I found that not only the chilled wind was against me but at this point the the line began to rise slightly. Typical! This slope was not noticed by those blackened steam engines pulling the local service slowly along but it was clear enough to both my arms and my knees. They commented on this in a manner a bit too full and frank for my liking to be honest.  
I do not worry about aching limbs in the morning however, these have arrived already! I sit aching and totally knackered, merely happy the heart attack did not arrive while on the road home! Too think that once I rode, over several days, from Edinburgh to London and now I struggle after a few miles! There is no doubt that I am unfit but if the weather keeps up I will be out a few more times in days to come. Now where is that ambulance.......

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The Bike

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The weather was a bit dreich, gray clouds lay overhead most of the day, but I managed to get the bike purring all the way up the old railway to the village. That time of the morning, around ten, usually has some folks walking the dog. I maybe would be better saying 'following the dog,' as those beasts enjoy this pathway more than the people do. Whether they appreciate the sights as much as the smells I would not care to say but there were a few four legged creatures sniffing along. 
People round here usually make some sort of greeting as they pass during the week days but on the weekends the attitudes are often different. I wonder if this could be because at the weekend it is those commuters into far off London breathing fresh air but carrying the London offhand approach? Those who have lived there will know the sort of thing, if you die in front of them they will not see you! When I regularly met such folks on a weekend I made a point of a cheery greeting, just to annoy them! They rarely reply!
I was a bit peeved that the wildlife folk had been out with the hatchets and cut back lots of the greenery in preparation for the year. No doubt they know what they are doing but it was a bit disappointing to see so many gaps in the verges. This old railway line is indeed well cared for and is always worth a visit no matter what time of year. I reckon that having spent so many years amongst London's concrete I appreciate the vista more than those brought up out here.
I stopped at the stagnant pond to stop my knees yelling at me, the creaking sound was beginning to annoy me, and sat there for a few moments listening to the typical country sounds. There were robins and tits chirping in the hedges and trees. A squirrel or two passed by, somewhere along the path a dog barked, and over all of this the thunder of the by-pass a hundred yards away drowned out every sound more than five feet from my wax filled ears. Ah the quiet country life, it doesn't exist!


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Bike

So I eventually get around to fixing the puncture.

I struggle to turn the nut to release the wheel, always the back wheel of course, and, covered in filth, bring it upstairs. The tyre lever has disappeared. A silver tool fails to release the tyre. Neither does that strange shaped thing in the tool box, nor does a screwdriver, nor a combination of several tools! Scrambling for something in the rubble I find the tyre lever, (how did it get there?) and with a great deal of effort move the tyre sufficiently to remove, with a struggle, the inner tube. I shove it, by now willingly, into water and note the hole. Removing it from the water I lose the place and struggle through pumping and drowning the thing again, this time having some way of marking the tiny hole that causes the grief. 
Another search in the tool box for the box of patches. Plenty of those, lots of those white chalk bits, some emery paper scraps, a few yellow crayons and NO rubber solution!
I clean my filthy hands and soon afterwards make for the dole office where a nice young lass signs me on amid smiles and encouragement. Clearly she does not know how to do her job! I wander about looking for things connected to the Great War history of the town that I have been studying, and arrive home, hot, sweaty, and flushed. As I pass the bike remember I have forgotten the new puncture outfit! I leave it till later! Just before five I rush to the shops and find one in an overpriced shop dealing in motor items/ bike stuff. This is run by guys who smile at you while lifting your wallet. You know the smart ass type in such shops, not allowed to sell used cars as used car salesmen don't trust them, that sort. I find myself paying £2:99 for this small box! £2:99! I was expecting to pay 99p! Stunned, and determined never to return, I head home.
So stunned the thing is still sitting here beside me. At least the rubber solution is a decent size this time, although there is not much else in there, bar the small bit of emery paper and a couple of patches. 
£2:99, and they say Dick Turpin lived around here? I believe them!

Punctured!

With the dawn already risen I rode out at 5:15 the other morning to enjoy the quiet before the day starts. Being up that early meant I passed the postmen going into work and the early bird catching the worm. (I do not refer to postmen when mentioning 'worm.') I sauntered around in what was a warm sun at that time and thoroughly enjoyed the time. Later, as I took my stiffening knees out to the shops, I noticed the tyre was flat. "Strange," I thought wondering why this should be? Later I pumped air into the tyre, the rear tyre as all punctures have to be there, and watched as the worn rubber slowly deflated again. On the journey I had run over some minute object which had done the deed.   


This means I am on my knocked knees wandering the streets instead of trolling through the countryside enjoying the damp weather. This is somewhat of a blow, especially as I am too lazy to fix the puncture. The problem is the back wheel. This has to come off, the gears moved, the grease, dirt and oil has to be spread all over the wall, the carpet and even the ceiling if last time is anything to go by. Hours later the tyre has to be replaced, and inflated. Now I don't know about you but in my experience when this happens, the wheel tightened, the gears replaced, and all is well, then by the next morning it is flat again! So the ten minute job, according to those who write books, takes three or four days before it is finished! The idea of riding the brute after that loses all interest as the fear of another puncture fills the oil covered mind. 


Tomorrow I begin the operation. If it is finished by Friday I will be very surprised! 

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Green Countryside

My luck never changes. Not only did the hob on the cooker die during the week but tonight I placed the plastic kettle on the ring at the back while I burnt the dinner. Naturally I turned on the switch, checked everything with a careless glance, and retired to check the spam mail. As I clicked my way through the unwelcome e-mails there was a loud bang and all the electric went off. I had turned on the wrong ring and melted the kettle! The dinner was still sitting there, expectantly!Another trip to Tesco for a new one, forgetting my pin number there and making the well build lass serving me think she had a con man fiddling the card. Eventually it worked and she restrained her abuse until I left. 

I was not in need of this as I had jumped on the bike and sauntered (only three gears are working) off along the old railway. Turning off I toured the narrow lanes through the small hamlets around there. The sun was shining brightly, the weather was warm, I looked up into the bright blue sky above and marvelled at the thin vapour trails ten thousand feet above lingering behind the aircraft headed for Stansted airport, I rode into the hedge, failing to notice the sharp right hand bend in the road. Headed back along the railway, bits of hedge in my hair, I greeted warmly the half dressed women jogging along, walking their dogs, and generally frightening them as I breathed heavily as I passed by. They were under the impression that they were responsible for this state of affairs, in fact it was just me attempting to pull the bike up the gentle slopes!

This view intrigued me however. It is a line of trees along two small streams forming a 'D' shape. I could not help but wonder what was the point of this? I suspect this area of land is used as an overflow of the small stream that runs alongside, and the trees have just been planted for no good reason. But what do I know? Well nothing actually! The sun shining on the fields made me stop and stare for a while. I suppose being brought up in one city and spending so much time in another makes me appreciate the green space more than those who live here and take it for granted! If the knees and muscles hold out I will be off again tomorrow, ambulance staff willing.

My lack of energy lost me a job also this week. Three hours were spent clearing up a warehouse and I did the job so well, carefully ensuring I did not run my feeble body into the ground that they through me out into the rain with a flea in my ear. My luck never changes does it? I made no attempt to find work the next day, I just sat there being depressed. Well they say worse things happen at sea, and I have just noticed a job on a cargo ship. I wonder if I should apply.........? 

Start the Year the Way You Mean to Go On!

So early(ish) yesterday morning I got on the bike and raced slowly up the old railway line. I had hoped it would be empty, new year revellers still sleeping it off and all that, but I forgot the dog walkers. No matter how your head feels they need to go, so they went! The place was teaming with them and the dogs, and occasional kid, was better behaved than the sourpussed folks I passed yesterday. Now the phrase 'Happy New Year' uttered in Scotland to strangers in such circumstances would be greeted with an appropriate response, not stares and bewildered expressions as found here. The occasional human appeared but most were unresponsive mannequins wrapped in layers of warm, expensive, clobber.

However I was not put off as I intended to make this year better than any in recent times. No matter what I was feeling good and after a nourishing lunch at the soup kitchen I read the blogs and fell into a relaxed sleep of the righteous (sort off). Later I was so keen on the exercise I jumped on the bike, carefully, and spent another cold half hour enjoying my trip around the quiet streets. Ahead of me lay the new year, a year in which things will be better, life will take a new direction and all will be well! What could possibly go wrong?

About five O'clock I found myself feeling very strange. I thought I was fainting and after a minute or two go up and stood somewhat unsure for a moment. I picked up the phone and my arm fell away,it had no strength. Ooooer I thought, this should not be (I'm quick on the uptake you see). At that time of night, on that day, there is no doctor unless it is a real emergency. I was not sure about that and ten minutes later I called the NHS Direct Line service. Here I could chat to a nurse who asked all the right questions, relieving me of the fear something serious was occurring and at the same time avoiding the phrase 'You silly old woman you!' Today, I sought the doctor, miraculously an opening this morning appeared and I met an attractive young Nigerian (?) doctor who put me at ease, realising nothing was wrong told me to come back if this strange event happened again. 'Don't worry about wasting my valuable time' she avoided saying. But for a moment my whole life changed! I truly thought it may be a heart attack or a stroke. Instead it was a passing moment, probably caused by the way I was sitting rather than anything else. How grateful I am for the NHS! Small events like this can lead to much worry, but a quick chat with a suitable person ends needless fears. Had it been of a serious nature advice and help was on hand! Grateful? You bet!

Now I am getting back into my new, new year! The improved health regime (I am looking for health) and a desperate search for legitimate income (any), a better time for my football side, and a better time with my God. So far the eating has been rubbish! I start such regimes and discover the cupboard is bare! The plans I had, the new recipes and ideas! And I had forgotten there was nothing available with which to start! Idiot!