Greetings

Have tried 3 times to Blog recently with no success, there’s some kind of glitch with the dashboard publishing bit. It lets me type but that’s it. More frustratingly still, each time I have lacked the forethought to save my entry on Word a la ‘lovely Michelle’.

Speaking of which Michelle, in answer to your text, yes I did wish I was on the deck with you at 2030, drinking grown up Ribena on a warm evening after a day’s gardening.

More of that later.

So – what have I been up to lately ?

I have been (whisper this next bit) going to the gym. I have had a lifelong aversion to gyms, all those sweaty posers in lycra make me feel uncomfortable. I have always preferred to do any physical activity outdoors in non-cling clothing.

Recently, however, I was convinced of the benefits of Pilates so signed up to a 6 week course to teach me the basics, meaning I could be let loose in a class with growed-ups.

I have a feeling this may be a lengthy Blog so will restrict my comments about Pilates to this : it’s excellent. Difficult to explain & impossible to understand how such slow, controlled movements can make you feel so good, but it does.
A revelation.

I initially signed up to the Pilates to improve my riding but have slowly added bits and pieces to my gym visits. I now run every other day (and can step nonchalantly on & off a moving treadmill, without skinning my face). I then finish with a 40 length swim (20 crawl, 20 breaststroke), and then as a treat (note Alice, not ice-cream) a session in the steam room and the jacuzzi.

I am fully aware that nobody but me finds my achievements in the gym interesting and I know I run the risk of becoming a gym bore (or at least a published gym bore) and yet I will say that the satisfaction from running for 50 minutes is something I am really enjoying. I should elaborate there, I don’t in any way, shape or form, enjoy running, the enjoyment comes from forcing my body to do something my brain is telling it not to.

Never one of Nature’s runners, I picked Paul’s brains as to how I could most efficiently put my feet quickly one in front of the other. Paul is a PC I work with whose levels of fitness I can only aspire to. He is one of those deluded fools who finds enjoyment in fell-running. He seems quite normal otherwise.

He asked lots of informed questions about duration, heart-rate & recovery rate and decided I was killing myself. I was perversely pleased to note he said I was ‘running too hard’, not something I’ve ever been accused of before.
With his advice to decrease my speed and increase my distance by a 5% weekly increment, I should be polishing off marathons in no time.

During my last 2 visits, I have run for 50 minutes and 6 kays, not something I’ve ever managed before. Soon, I’ll be turning the treadmill on.

Confession – time.
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My march towards middle-aged gathers momentum …

As a self-confessed fan of John Humphries, Alan Titchmarsh, Bill Oddie, good grammar, Gardener’s Question Time (particularly tragic as I don’t even have a garden), tweed skirts, hunting prints, well-polished brogues etc, I will also own-up to being fascinated by ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.

I’m not quite sure what it is. I don’t know whether it’s Brucie, who I have always thought a consumate entertainer (I used to love The Generation Game) or the lovely Natasha Kiplinsky (if only she’d keep quiet) or just the sequins and feathers (I have to be physically restrained in haberdashers)
but I am captivated.

Being one of the few people in the Western world sans tv, I had timed my visit to the treadmills to coincide with The X-Factor because I consider Sharon Osbourne to be the epitome of womanhood.

Oddly, although the screens were showing Sky News, MTV and BBC1, they were neglecting ITV.

Just at the point that Roger Black was about to dance, a young member of staff questioned all the victims nearest the screens on the treadmills as to whether they were watching ‘Strictly’ as it shall henceforth be known and if not, could he change the channel to ITV ?

Being a feeble person, too afraid to make a scene, I quickly averted my eyes from the screen, lied, and claimed to be watching MTV. Thankfully, 2 portly ladies to my right with more personal conviction than I, stood up to the youth and said yes, they were watching. Hurray for scary ladies !

Lots to look forward to in the next few weeks.
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I will save Old Boys for another entry & stick with my impending holiday to NZ.

10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go, 10 days to go etc etc.

I am driving my poor work colleagues to distraction.

Just writing about it reduces me to a frenzy of anticipation and this morning as I drifted off to sleep (I am night duty) I envisaged being in the plane & looking down on my would-be adopted homeland from the air. Arriving in NZ is going to be an awful lot easier than arriving at Heathrow was on April 22nd this year.

The things I am looking forward to most, in no particular order are …

The Tanners
Cedar Lodge
Grown up Ribena
Eric’s fabulous G&T’s
Falling asleep in the cottage
Eric ‘checking his levels’
Michelle taming the CD player
Harri playing the piano (it’ll wear off in less than a day I’m sure
Watching Alice at a riding lesson
Meeting Feral Beryl & Rust
Re-acquainting myself with all the other animals
Evenings on the deck
Gossiping with Michelle
Paige Gooch (this must be said very quickly)
Eric’s illicit steak, egg & chips when the growed-ups are away and we have to fend for ourselves
Tracey Chapman
The anticipation of seeing if the fantail has nested on the deck again
Chocolate arum lilies
The rampant, frothy pink climbing rose which adorns the trellis by the pool
Saturday nights for Michelle’s fabulous home-made pizza’s (she oils the tray, Eric doesn’t, neither of their pizzas stick but it’s a bone of contention
Home made lemon curd
Home made fresh bread, not as a treat, but as a daily staple
Magpie noises
Mal
Mike
Meeting Milky
Meeting Murray (CoffeeWaffle)
Re-meeting Murray (Trelawney Tractor God.
Green
Space


What am I not looking forward to ?
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Boston Beans (please don’t make me eat it ever again)
There, I said it. ?


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