Random thoughts from Lazyville...

You know when you come across as depressed or down, there's always somebody there to remind you that there are others worse off than you are? Well, there is something flawed about that position as basically it's stating that if, for some reason (or reasons) you're feeling down or depressed or pissed off, that, in reality, you shouldn't be in such a state, that it's wrong, unjustified, unreasonable, and so forth. So, in other words, whatever is bugging you, you shouldn't be depressed or upset or pissed off about it because of old so and so or this or that person who has something 'real' to be worried about. I understand that entirely and I'm sure that everybody who feels a little down or depressed occasionally, knows of somebody who's in a worse position than they are and that those people deserve all the support they can get. Think of those in Ukraine, for example.

I'm in the basement, thinking 'bout the government

I'm feeling aggrieved, depressed, annoyed, angry, pissed off, down and dejected for all sorts of reasons, not least the state of the UK and the awful government which has presided over the country since the days of David Cameron, Britain's third worst Prime Minister next to Boris Johnson and (at the top of the list) Liz Truss. I feel powerless, there's nothing I can do about it and, as I write this, I realise that there are a lot of people in this country who, for want of a better word, (although I realise this will sound very arrogant on my part) are basically ignorant (in my opinion). I'm talking about those who really thought that Boris Johnson was fit to run the country and those who support the current Tory government.

Harry and Meghan 

Then there is all the nonsense surrounding the royal family and in particular Prince Harry and the revelations from his book Spare, which publishes tomorrow. He's really let the side down and for no reason at all. What has he got to moan about in the overall scheme of things? He's got money, he's wealthy, he hasn't got to worry about where the next meal is coming from, he's living in a huge mansion in sunny California, he's married, he has kids and yet he feels the need to moan about his lot when, in the UK at this very moment, there are people who are nowhere near as well off as he struggling to pay their bills, there are people living on the streets and even ordinary, run-of-the-mill people like me dealing with the cost of living crisis, the strikes and so forth.

Why are we all so gullible?

The media is so obsessed with Harry and Meghan because they know that their stories will sell newspapers, it's that simple. And why is that? Because of the gullibility of the British people and, indeed, the people of the world who lap this sort of stuff up, particularly women for some reason who like nothing more than a gossip over a cup of coffee. There's nothing worse than gullibility. Why are we all so gullible? Why are we happy to go out on the days leading up to Christmas to buy stuff from shops, at extortionate prices, and then, a day after 'the big day' the shops that sold us that stuff are suddenly selling things (and the stuff we bought) at up to 60% off? There was I yesterday looking at the goods on offer in a clothes shop in Sevenoaks, a place where I had bought an expensive jumper only a matter of weeks ago, only to discover that everything in the store was now far, far cheaper. Ironically, the jumper I bought was still the same price. Perhaps next year just a small present to put under the tree (for the sake of appearances) and then a return trip to the shop (and others like it) a few days after Christmas to get greater value for money, perhaps two jumpers for the price of one and so on. But no, everybody is gullible. I wonder how many people will buy that awful book by Prince Harry? 

Looking out from Sheree's in Tatsfield Village, 8 January 2023

Cost of living crisis

The cost of living crisis is a nuisance. Every time I go out I have to fill up with petrol, restaurants are now charging extortionate prices (I say 'restaurants' when I mean cafes, snack bars, traditionally low-spend establishments). Tea at almost £3 a cup, sandwiches for around £8 - with a sad-looking salad garnish and some crisps so we all think the high prices are justified. Rail fares are going up. Can you believe that? All of last week there were no trains and we've all been inconvenienced, but they have the audacity to put up the fares, which are already extortionate. Once the weather improves and the evenings get lighter I'm going to ride to work like I did last summer, except I'll start earlier this year and make the most of it. I've bought waterproof trousers and shoes and there's nothing stopping me but my own lack of motivation, which is probably exacerbated by a lack of exercise brought on by the bad weather, those endorphins need to be stimulated but instead I'm sheltering from the rain.

Pot of tea at Sheree's in Tatsfield

Sunday 8th January 2022

Well, not today! Yesterday (Saturday 7th January) I'd checked the iphone weather app and realised that today (Sunday 8th January) there was a window of dryness that would enable Andy and I to get out there and ride the bikes. Now, it's worth pointing out that unlike me, Andy has continued riding throughout the bad weather using his trusty trainer in his garage. I should buy one too but I'm not sure it would provide me with much more motivation than a real bike to get out there and exercise despite what Andy says about how he warms up fairly quickly and even has to shed clothes as his exercise continues. I'm sure that's true. In fact, I know it is because whenever I jump on a stationary bike in a hotel gym I leave the place drenched in my own sweat. It works. But going out into a cold garage on a cold day is not easy and Andy understands this and it's good to know that somebody has my back and wants me to keep fit. Believe me, that means a lot. And the options are there: start swimming, by a trainer device, buy an exercise bike and put it in the conservatory, ride the Nobbler of an evening, all six miles of it, rain or shine, hot or cold. The easiest is the latter and the crucial ingredient is, of course, motivation. The best thing, of course, would be if the bad weather lifted, like it did this morning. I'll say this, I've felt on top of the world today and I put that down to the ride, the exercise. Remember: my last ride prior to this morning was Boxing Day. Something has to be done and Andy's right to bring it up. The other problem, of course, is the dark. If I opt to ride to work (and believe me I've seriously considered it for tomorrow (Monday 9th January) it will mean riding in the dark and that in turn will mean charging up my lights (both of which are USB-chargeable). Then all I need is some high-Viz clothing, but the lights should be enough. Am I going to ride to work in the morning? No, I'm not, but I might just get on the bike and ride the Nobbler when I get back home. It's no more than 35 minutes of hell and then I'll be back in the house with around six miles under my belt and that lovely feeling of achievement.

Tuesday 10 January 2022

It's Tuesday night, it's raining and I haven't been out since Sunday. I've checked out gym/swim membership at a leisure centre close to where I work, it's £34/month, not bad when you consider I could spend £8 per day on lunches, totalling £45 in a week, so if I take sandwiches then I save and can spend the money on the membership. But will I go? Or won't I? I might start off with all the good intentions, but then things will fall by the wayside and I'll stop, like most people do. I might not, of course, and if I can go just three times a week (and throw in a couple of lunch time swims while I'm at it) then it could be worthwhile. And when the days brighten I can ride to work and all will be well with the world. I might not need the membership for more than a couple of months. Either way I need to act, perhaps tomorrow, or the day after, I can't do anything as it's Tuesday night, it's 1919hrs and I'm waiting for dinner. I'm hungry. I've already eaten a toasted Marmite sandwich, two slices of toast and honey, one hot cross bun and that's all because I only had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and a cup of tomato and basil soup. I don't know why I ate so much on coming through the door, but I did and, fortunately, that hot cross bun has done the trick. I won't eat any more until dinner is ready, in about 40 minutes or so (chilli con carne with rice). Then I'll be fine, I'll probably have my Snore & Peace tea, watch the box (or read) and then hit the sack.

Not a single ride...apart from last Sunday

Saturday morning and I was awake around 0400hrs, probably about 10 minutes earlier. I wanted to get out of bed, but I knew it would be a bad idea so I lay there and eventually fell asleep, waking at gone 0700hrs. I fell asleep again and awoke around 0800hrs, switched on LBC and then got up. To be honest, I hadn't spared a thought for the weather. I made breakfast and switched on the lap top, perused the BBC website and wasn't even thinking about cycling, even if a ride was lurking in the back of my mind. I always ride on a Saturday, it's the last day of my cycling week. But clearly not today. Still not really thinking about the weather I went upstairs and changed and then, when I found myself in the kitchen, I noticed the raindrops in the birdbath. I was just about to go and there they were, so I checked out the weather app on the iphone and sure enough it's going to rain all day, or almost, although there's a chance right now of getting out there and if I can, I will.

Lunch in a local caff yesterday...

It's been a bad week for riding the bike. I was working Monday to Wednesday, which put a ride out of the question, and the rain also stopped my riding in, so I was down to just two days, Thursday and Friday, but for some reason the momentum was lost and when I checked back to what I did last Sunday I was disheartened to note that I only rode 12.5 miles. Suddenly it dawned on me yesterday that my weekly mileage was going to be piss poor and that made it even worse. I resigned myself to not being proud of my weekly total.

What I must do is stop eating rubbish. This week: two Wispa bars, a Twirl, a chocolate mousse and an almond croissant. This is not new. Since lockdown I've been comfort eating. Big breakfasts, peanut butter, marmalade, boiled egg and fingers, bowl of Alpen and my general food intake isn't good either. Last night a cream cheese sandwich and it really has to stop. But it's harder than you think to stop eating crap, but I'm going to give it a go. Even a few minutes ago, however, I was looking forward to reaching Westerham and enjoying another cinnamon brioche bun with my English breakfast tea, and I've just remembered that during the week, after work, I sat in Redhill Costa munching a Millionaires Shortbread with my tea. It. Has. To. Stop.

So, the bike's in the garage, I'm in the house, it's raining and all there is to look forward to is England's drubbing in tomorrow's Euros. Well, alright, I want them to win and they could, of course, but it's Italy they're up against so I'm not going to get worked up about it, best to say they'll lose and then whatever happens will be alright. I was a bit suspicious about the Denmark game, purely because that second goal was a Denmark own goal, Kane missed the penalty, only scoring on the rebound, and the decision to award a penalty? Well, who knows? Everybody's going on far too much about the final. Just because England is generally rubbish in the football department, we're all thinking "it's coming home". Well, the only thing that is definitely coming home is the team. Why? Because the game takes place in Wembley so they're already home. It is probably going  to Rome, so I'm not going to get upset, but I will be watching the game.

This was good!

There's also Wimbledon finals this weekend, but as I've said before, the tennis is boring, there's no major 'rock star' players like Borg or McEnroe, everything has it's golden age and for both footy and tennis, they're over. God! I'm sounding as if I'm on a big downer, perhaps I am, it's hard to tell these days.

It's looking brighter out there and I might make a dash for it even if I know I'll get a soaking in the process. It's 1003hrs and it's make or break. I'll probably get to the top of Church Way and it'll start pouring down. What's worse, though? Staying in and resigning myself to a slobby day or getting out there and at least giving it a go? Probably the former, but I'm feeling fat and slobby as it is so I'd better get out there.

Lockdown, Part 15: It's all about food!

I've been keeping up the cycling. Every day I've been riding to Botley Hill and back and last night was no exception. Last week I rode 84 miles in total and this week I'm trying to go above that total. Surely 90 miles isn't much to ask of myself? As you know I'm riding six days a week with one day off, possibly today as the plan is to queue in the car park and (eventually) 'do the shopping'.

The worst thing about supermarket shopping during the lockdown is that people, including myself, simply don't distance themselves from their fellow shoppers. I have to admit that I get a little annoyed when I see somebody wearing a mask. There's something 'over the top' about it.

Healthy breakfasts are fine, but you can't beat Wispa bars and custard

The big news this week (if you can call it 'big news') was that it looks as if the 'lockdown' is going to continue for some time. The Government is alluding to months rather than weeks and I'm not sure how that makes me feel. There's a lot I miss about 'normal life', but then there's a lot I enjoy about being under 'lockdown', mainly because it's not that bad at all, as I've said many a time. The key, as I've also said many times, is having a bike. A bike brings freedom as long as you don't break social distancing rules and cycle in packs or with other people. I go out alone, after 5pm, and ride to Botley and back, it's become a default ride, and because the 269 is low on cars these days (apart from those who enjoy breaking the speed limit AND riding a little too close to me for comfort).

I realised earlier in the week how much I was saving. There are no train fares to work, no snacks, no meals at the caff, no mint teas while waiting for the train, nobody's birthday to contribute to, no lottery, nothing. The only thing that has 'gone up' in terms of money spent, is the shopping and that's because food and eating has become the focal point of everything, I'm even talking about it on Twitter and on Linkedin with colleagues past and present. In fact, since we've been on lockdown, I've eaten a lot more custard than I'm used to and I've reached the conclusion that Ambrosia Devon custard is far better than Bird's Instant Custard, although the latter could be improved with a teaspoon of banana-flavoured Nesquik. Also under discussion on social media has been Abbey Crunch biscuits. Where do they sit in the hierarchy? Are they better than HobNobs, are they trumped by chocolate HobNobs? It's all a matter of taste I readily admitted that when I was a kid I wouldn't think twice about eating an entire loaf of Mother's Pride bread, but I wouldn't today as there are far better brands to scoff. I remembered when I was kid and how, when ill (rare, but we all go down with stuff at some time or other) my mum treated me to a tin of Heinz Cream of Mushroom soup, often accompanied by slices of Mother's Pride. I loved it: a whole bowl of soup to myself. How we got it all in one bowl I'll never know, but we did.  When I was ill, the big mistake my parents made was leaving me with a little brass bell. I used to ring for room service miles too often and soon it was taken away. Tinned apple puree, now there's another one. And before anybody says there's an accent on one of those Es, I know, but I can't figure out how to type one on this laptop. My mum used to serve it up with warm custard, probably Bird's. One thing I haven't enjoyed for a very long time, however, is Heinz Egg Custard with Rice. As a baby, I loved it and I must say that if ever I find any I'm going to buy it and eat it raw straight out of the tin, just like in the old days. I remember having it as a baby, but I must have cajoled mum to get it when I was a little older as I distinctly remember it, probably when I was five or six, certainly under 10, but oh would I like some? Yes I would! I saw some once in Sainsbury's, a six-pack of it! For a few minutes I stood there until I eventually slapped my own wrists and moved on, but the temptation is there, folks. It's going to happen.

Moving on to current times and I must say that Charlie Bigham's is a great brand. We've enjoyed his bread & butter pudding and, if I recall correctly, his Bakewell pudding (or tart, although I think it's 'pudding'). Both great with custard. There's also a rather tasty cappuccino mousse in Waitrose and let's not forget vanilla-flavoured yoghurt. I'm prone to eat chocolate bars in the queue while waiting for the check out and then handing in my wrapper for scanning. Currently, my favourite chocolate bar is a Wispa, but I'm open to all suggestions. Something else I'm eating a lot of is Alpen. I noticed a huge sack of the stuff on the shelves and now find myself pouring it into a bowl whenever I feel like a snack. Sometimes it acts as a body double for my usual porridge, which must be a surprise for the grapes and bananas.

Anyway, it's now 0800hrs and I should be working so I'd better say goodbye, until the next time. I'm reading a great book at the moment, Uncommon People by David Hepworth. It's all about rock stars, a dying breed, and it's great.

* Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com

I really must learn to shut my cakehole!

I really must, this is serious. I'm eating too much cake. Can't get enough of it! But what about my biscuit hole? That too! (They're one and the same). I don't know what it is, but cake and biscuits are fantastic. I love them! But you can get too much of a good thing and in my world that's an occupational hazard.

A few years back I embarked upon a diet. I limited myself to just three slices of bread per day (which was a little better than my (easily) one dozen slices. Put it this way, I'd wake up in the morning and have between two and four slices of bread, normally with marmalade (something I've given up completely, along with any 'spreads', so jam, honey, it's all been off the agenda for years now). Also off the agenda, 99.9% of the time are chocolate bars – wrapped chocolate like Twix, Mars bars and so forth. There was a time, about five years ago, when I lapsed for a while and enjoyed a Mars bar once a day, but that was short-lived.

I could have done without the dessert...

I think it's foodstuffs (better make that food groups) with the letter B, so bread, buns, biscuits and now, of course, beer, since I've stopped drinking (coming up for five months on 28 March – actually, that's today!).

But of late I've lapsed on the letter B foods. I simply can't resist a biscuit or two during the day and I really wish this wasn't the case. I've also lapsed on cake. Whenever I visit a National Trust property, which is roughly once a week (forget the culture, I go purely for the cake and the gift shop) I enjoy a slice of cake. And then there's Westerham's Tudor Rose café, where I've been a regular fixture over the past few weeks, and guess what? There's a great selection of cakes. Only last Sunday I enjoyed a chunk (make that a brick) of bread pudding and the week before there was a rather nice Bakewell tart with icing and a large cherry and just a day before that a lemon sponge with lemon curd sandwiched between the two sponges and lemon icing on top – wonderful, yes, but good for me? Well, spiritually, perhaps, but I've noticed my trousers are a little tighter, which means they've got to stop.

I've forgotten to mention my weekly trips to mum's. My mum makes exceedingly good cakes and I make a point of having two slices (make that chunks) with my tea and I have been known to raid the biscuit tin too – it's all got to stop. Perhaps I'll stop everything but my weekly ration of mum's cake. Yeah, that's what I'll do.

Now that the severe weather has lifted (that said, it's raining today and for the foreseeable future no doubt – it's the Easter bank holiday this coming weekend) I'm getting out at lunch times for some long walks and I've even walked to Merstham railway station some evenings. That's the good news. I'm also guaranteeing myself 40 minutes of additional walking everyday simply by taking the train from a railway station 20 minutes' walk away (as opposed to just 10).

Breakfast and dinner are fine, it's just the bit in between that is causing problems. While my lunch, give or take, is fine (normally baked potatoes, heatlhy stuff, or a sandwich from M&S) it's the snacking in between that's an issue. God forbid if anybody has a birthday in the office as the rule is they have to bring in cakes and stuff and most people push the boat out and display an array of goodies, normally from Sainsbury's, including mini millionaire's shortbreads, doughnuts (I'd only eat the custard ones, but they never get them) and other snacks that carry labelling saying 'not good for you'.

Fortunately the summer is coming, and that can mean warm weather. Warm weather suppresses the appetite a little and with sunshine comes exercise, so the future is looking good, but I must resist foods beginning with the letter B and as I said earlier, there's loads of them, although a lot of them good be grouped under the title 'Baked Goods'.

My rule on chocolate has been broken a couple of times this week as I've bought, as part of my lunch from M&S after a walk, is a small bar of chocolate (containing tumeric – so I think it's healthy). The bar boasts just 144 calories (not bad) so, well, no more, let's say that, no more.

Anyway, that's just to let you all know where I am on the dieting front. I'm not doing too bad in the scheme of things, but I think my report card would read 'could do better'.