I hate finding excuses not to ride, but heavy winds seemed like a good one. I'd had a good ride yesterday (see previous post) and that seemed to be in my favour as I considered whether to send myself an abort text or not. I knew Andy wasn't going, which made it all easier, but I still wanted a real excuse not to go out. Fortunately for me, when I looked out of the kitchen window at the tall conifer at the top of the garden, I could see it was raining. That'll do pig! So I didn't ride to mum's, I drove there, listening to John McLaughlin's Extrapolation, bringing back memories of driving to the coast in the late eighties/early nineties and walks in the Suffolk countryside. There was rain on my windscreen, which brought great comfort as it meant that I had good reason not to embark upon the six-mile ride from Sanderstead to Carshalton. I felt, in a way, justified to be sitting in my car, even if I did spot a cyclist battling the elements earlier on, having just left my house – and he was wearing shorts!
All was well at mum's, things were orderly, as they've always been. I enjoyed two triangular pieces of fruit cake and a cup of tea, plus a couple of tiny chocolate biscuits. While I opened the box of Elizabeth David Mints, I put the lid back on, scolding myself for even thinking about it.
Mum's clock radio was on Medium Wave – or so she said. She wanted FM and wondered whether I could sort it out. She has an old Roberts radio, but it's seen better days and I think she wanted the clock radio to be promoted so she could retire the old 'wireless'. When I took a look at the clock radio I discovered that it was already on FM, but I decided not to disappoint her. "There you go, mum, fixed it," I said, moving it on to her bedside table. She hurriedly took the Roberts radio away as if a car was waiting downstairs to take it to a care home.
I went downstairs to use the mildly claustrophobic bathroom adjoining the 'new room', which is really an old room, it's just that it was once new and the name stuck. The new room. I was still living at home when the new room was constructed and it quickly became the new dining room where we had breakfast, lunch and dinner. Things have moved on, though. Today, dinner is often served in the 'lounge', the 'through lounge', which was knocked through in the seventies.
Soon it was time to go and this time there was a sense of relief that I wasn't going to be donning helmet and old rucksack and heading out to mount the bike. The wind was strong, swaying the branches of some big trees, including Mrs Tillman's horse chestnut that lurched dangerously back and forth over the railway line. My car was parked outside and I knew that John McLaughlin's Extrapolation had a good 15 minutes left. I said goodbye to mum and told her not to stand on the doorstep waving me off, it was too breezy, too cold. I drove down to the bottom of the road, turned the car round and drove back up and as I passed mum's house she was still on the step waving as I passed.
All was well at mum's, things were orderly, as they've always been. I enjoyed two triangular pieces of fruit cake and a cup of tea, plus a couple of tiny chocolate biscuits. While I opened the box of Elizabeth David Mints, I put the lid back on, scolding myself for even thinking about it.
Mum's clock radio was on Medium Wave – or so she said. She wanted FM and wondered whether I could sort it out. She has an old Roberts radio, but it's seen better days and I think she wanted the clock radio to be promoted so she could retire the old 'wireless'. When I took a look at the clock radio I discovered that it was already on FM, but I decided not to disappoint her. "There you go, mum, fixed it," I said, moving it on to her bedside table. She hurriedly took the Roberts radio away as if a car was waiting downstairs to take it to a care home.
I went downstairs to use the mildly claustrophobic bathroom adjoining the 'new room', which is really an old room, it's just that it was once new and the name stuck. The new room. I was still living at home when the new room was constructed and it quickly became the new dining room where we had breakfast, lunch and dinner. Things have moved on, though. Today, dinner is often served in the 'lounge', the 'through lounge', which was knocked through in the seventies.
Soon it was time to go and this time there was a sense of relief that I wasn't going to be donning helmet and old rucksack and heading out to mount the bike. The wind was strong, swaying the branches of some big trees, including Mrs Tillman's horse chestnut that lurched dangerously back and forth over the railway line. My car was parked outside and I knew that John McLaughlin's Extrapolation had a good 15 minutes left. I said goodbye to mum and told her not to stand on the doorstep waving me off, it was too breezy, too cold. I drove down to the bottom of the road, turned the car round and drove back up and as I passed mum's house she was still on the step waving as I passed.
