I sneaked a bike ride in this evening.  Normally I cycle on Tuesday evenings and then Saturday and Sunday mornings as the Man is around to keep an eye on the Boy. This weekend Saturday and Sunday are not an option as I will be on my own, temporarily a single Mum. The Man is off to Belgium to watch cars go round and round a track and to drink Belgium beer with his eldest who is a Moto Journalist/PR officer.

This evening the ride was only 3 miles but it was all hills. I think I mentioned before that whichever road you take out of this village you meet hills..think Rome but not so ancient, or San Franciso but not so large or urban. The first time I did this particular ride I did it in reverse and it nearly killed me as you hit the big hill on the main road out within 3 minutes of leaving the house.

Twenty five minutes later I collapse on the patio. The Man was preoccupied with leaving the house and did not offer his usual encouragement of standing at the back door and looking at my comatose and spread-eagled body.

After he’s gone I feel empty…as though my partner in crime has gone straight…

I pull myself together and go and attack some vegetables in the kitchen… In his absence I am going to eat all the things I don’t normally get to eat… soon there is a big pot of vegetable soup bubbling away… did I mention I live with Vegetable deniers…


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