|A ride to mum's had been on the cards...|
I'd awoken at 0600hrs out of habit, but I switched the radio off and jumped back into bed. It was gone eight when I jumped out and headed for the kitchen. One thing I hate about having a cold – apart from the streaming nose, the tissues and the smell of Olbas oil – is losing a sense of taste. There's nothing worse than relying upon texture, but there you have it, a cold is a cold and I'll eventually get over it, although sometimes they linger. I wonder where I'll be this time next week? Still bunged up? Still sniffing? Probably, but the streaming nose would have disappeared, it normally does, and I'll be on the mend.
|Another iconic poster...|
But I digress. There are things to discuss. Cotton wool. Or cottonwool? I'm assuming it's 'wool' made out of cotton and, therefore, not wool at all, it's cotton. So why call it cottonwool? One of life's great mysteries I guess. Another thing that's bugging me is the latest food scare – acyrlamide. It bugs me because they've started talking about now, this week, when I remember writing about it in 2007 – 10 years ago! Just don't burn things, make sure your toast is golden brown, not charcoal black, try and avoid potato chips (crisps) and don't over-burn frozen chips. Simple.
It's now 0912hrs, I've just had a second cup of tea, my nose is streaming, I'm still wearing the pink-striped pyjamas and believe it or not the sun is shining. In short, perfect weather for a ride to mum's, but my bike is the garage, padlocked, and it won't be going anywhere until next weekend.