Falling Apart

They do say that you can't describe skiing as just a way of getting from the top of a mountain to the bottom or though last week that's sometimes just what it was. In the same way you can't describe cycling as just a way of getting from A to B. In fact I've really missed it. So I jump at the chance of cycling into work today, particularly as they'll be no school runners at least Nottingham end, although Derby are back at school today.

The temperature is around zero this morning, so I take a hot drink with me. I try hot chocolate for change; it works well, much better than coffee. The weather is nice, apart from being cold but I still find the ride hard and I do a rubbish time. Possibly because I think I'm falling apart, my shoulder is still sore and I also have a sore ankle but I think that's a by-product of football with Doggo.

A burglary 'hotspot' list has been published in the papers today and Nottingham is named as the riskiest place to live with household theft levels 63% above the national average. Now I don't doubt that a big city like Nottingham has more burglaries than most places but I thought due to better locks etc burglaries were generally in decline. The exception to this is where the owners have been careless, e.g. when they are lackadaisical students and lo and behold this survey has been compiled by the insurance firm Endsleigh. Endsleigh specialise in student insurance and Nottingham of course has a large student population, as funnily enough do most of the other places in their top 10. Smells a bit like an insurance company drumming up business to me.

At least I'm not the only one falling apart, L informs me she's hobbling off to the gym after work to try and loosen up her muscles that are still tight from Monday's 10k.

I take the Ilkeston route home for the first time since October. I figure its light enough now not to get squished by the maniacs who drive that way. How wrong I was? Some boy racer tries to have me off by over taking another car as I'm coming the other way. It was a bit too close for comfort.

In the evening we go over and visit L's Mum, whose birthday it was recently. Even Doggo comes with us but not Son naturally, too busy with his A Level World Of Warcraft revision. L has wine; I have tea. Aren't I good?

Daughter tells us she's been listening to the Cars, which on further investigation actually turns out to be the Corrs. Which is a dreadful mistake to make, far worse than the Brakes/Rakes confusion. Daughter blames L's hearing; L blames Daughter's.