Fly Spray

We seem to have had quite a bit of overnight rain but it's dry now, so I cycle in. Catching the spray off the other vehicles is actually rather nice and cooling.

That is until some idiot in a huge Mitsubishi crate on wheels decides to hang inches from my rear wheel for about half a mile, itching to get past. I think he was expecting me to pull over. Think again. I have no sympathy, if he were in a vehicle that wasn't twice the width of most of the cars on the road he wouldn't have a problem. Eventually he gets past and roars off at err, 30mph.

Then less than a mile down the road, I catch up with him because he is now sat in traffic. I smile and wave as I go past him, though naturally I have to bump up the curb because he's taking up the whole road. He smiles at me in return; at least I think it was a smile, fully appreciating the irony of the situation.

Not long later, as I pull into work, I spare a very brief thought for him because as he's not come past me again, I assume he's still stuck somewhere.

I get changed and crack open a new can of deodorant. I've finally managed to get one that smells ok, after my favourite brand disappeared off the market. Am I the only one who thinks most deodorants made for men smell about as nice as fly spray. I suppose it saves on manufacturing costs to have a dual-purpose product.

I have a rather special treat for lunch; L has branched out with the slag food production into scotch eggs but there's no run of the mill sausage meat here, just proper minced pork. Very nice.

Daughter is now on her 415th (approximately) pair of headphones since she got her Ipod, although apparently this time is was Mini Doggo's fault. She's keeping our local record store going.

After work I head off for a swim because my usual swim day is out because L has talked me into this run tomorrow night. When I get there the usual Tuesday night private party is in full swing in lane one. I get into lane two where there are two other swimmers. One of them is a chap with so many baggy pockets in his drongo shorts, that when he gets out of the pool, he takes half of it with him.

L is out at Pilates when I get home, so I entertain the 'boys' (dogs) in the garden and cook chilli.

Mini Doggo is finding the lifestyle that he's been dumped into so very hectic and he gets so very tired but he just won't sleep while there's still stuff going on. So, we've had to start shutting him in the kitchen at around 10pm and having an early night ourselves. This, of course, is good for the soul and other vital matters.