This might look like an explosion of instagram sickness, but if you look beyond beyond my multiple camera use and general inconsistencies, it’s a good day. A day we lived properly. Filling every second. On the day after terrible events in Norway, my thoughts are with those families, I can’t even imagine it. They are also in East Africa, where three million people are without food. We are very, very lucky in many, many ways.
This account is really quite boring, it’s not like we did anything ‘mad’, but ya know, it was a day we spent just together and it was nice. Feel free to just look at the pictures. Or whatever.
SO, on this day (Saturday) we got up at 8am and cycled 15 miles. It was very pretty and full of sunshine. The robot cyclers were out in force, audible before visible by their buzzzzing wheels. Like a swarm of lycra bees. Wooosh. I sort of wanted to catch them up and woosh past them, but then you have to sustain the woosh and keep speed levels high. Charlie says you should never be overtaken once you have overtook on a bike. I once learnt this to my peril with one of his friends.
After a while we were warmed up and fassssst. I barely moaned going up the hills but was informed that I cycle too slowly on country lanes, however on the fast roads my speed is good to adequate. This I figured was because I am scared on the fast roads and like to look at the view on the country lanes, perhaps pet some animals.
We got to our destination though – the Walled Garden – in what I considered excellent time. There we drank coffee and ate cake, sun beaming in our faces and various shades of green, bright colours and an enviable vegetable patch before us. After this (I’m trying to make this less like a diary but alas) we meandered around little villages on our bikes, then (then, then, then) got the train home to Bristol. I purchased some pretty ribbons, before we raced home to lie in the garden with baguettes the size of our arms, filled with chorizo, cheese and my favourite ingredient for Sir Sandwich, gherkins.
I changed into a tassled Mexican style dress and played my new favourite songs. The tassles started to rip off a bit, but I decided I’d use them for something, when I eventually become as craft like as I assume I will be one day. We read the paper then napped in the sunshine to the sound of the birds, Francois attacked my dress’s tassles and then fell asleep in the vegetable patch. We napped and napped until I woke with a jerk and my arm still in a deep sleep.
I looked through my post from Carmel and marvelled at her expertise. She rang me and hollered that we need to book our holiday to somewhere. We read our books and then I demanded a desk. Which despite my yabbering on about old furniture was a bargain basement number from IKEA (akk!), but I sort of love it really. It’s white, not birch.
Wine rushed and sat, Francois pounced around and we ate delicious risotto. The radio was on and the air that came through the window was chilly.
I don’t really like the picture of me but you’re not supposed to edit yourself too much are you? Plus Charlie says it’s the best one of me. He looks nice and stripy.