Best laid schemes oft gang a-right also.

The good news is that the bike was ready for action. As I lifted the solitary item leaned up against it, I’m sure I heard it sigh in an eye-rolling, about-time manner.

Not quite the layers of boxes, tarpaulin, timber, abandoned plastic garden toys and spiders that I recalled. Funny how those little pictures build up in the brain, scenarios expanding and contracting. Proof if it were needed that memory can be contingent and unreliable…

Like, also not remembering to check the weather until exiting the house. Ah, forecast schmorecast, I thought, wiping a stray drop from the screen. Pretty much stopped, hasn’t it? Well, it wasn’t raining at the precise second I left… As I sped off, pedalled and sploshed, I did recall, though, how much I heartily heart being on the bike.

The other good news is, it was chucking it down with some insistence by the time I returned 40 minutes later. Chilly, driving rain, getting fat and slushy… Obviously! So, an elemental giggle at the coincidence of intent and environment ensued. Proper, sock-wringing sodden, endorphin tickled. Just what I was after.

“… the winter’s sleety dribble” indeed!

😁 👍🏼👍🏼

Trudging through it at the moment. It’s a familiar field, with an aspect that’s appealing from a distance revealed closer up to be all morass.

Managed to lighten a persistent glum mood with thirty minutes in the sunshine planting out shallots (the pre-chorus of Livin’ on a prayer playing over and over as I pressed each one into the soil). There’s clearly some unfavourable aspect about the rest of the solar system, though. Must be something in the air. My mind misgives. Unlike the shallots, an orbs-not-quite-in-alignment sort of scenario.

Heh… orbs. While acknowledging and paying respect to the benefit of not feeling like I have to do anything, moments where I am literally talking balls suggest some sort of nudge is required. Like, a proper physical getting out of one’s self…

Not like that though.

Tomorrow morning will be either a run, or retrieving the bike from underneath the stuff that’s been piled up against it in the garage all winter. Actually, given the prevalence of flatness, I’m likely to discover a pair of deflated tyres, so I might as well put the trainers by the door now.