The fickleness of weather. Cycling adventures. The wider world.

Yesterday, in the late morning, we decided we really should go out for a walk and benefit from the continued sunshine, absorb a bit of vitamin D and stretch our legs a little. And off we went. Inevitably, in that fickle way weather has, within minutes of our setting off the clouds rolled in. No rain though, so I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies. 

We returned from our walk, without having absorbed any vitamin D, and made coffee. 

Not more than half an hour later the blue sky and sunshine came back! Typical! Consequently some time later we decided that this might be a good day to cycle to Greenfield and suss out the supermarket situation. Phil needed to put some air in his bike tyres. His pump was playing up and the operation took longer than planned but eventually we set off. Then he almost came a cropper with his front wheel sliding about in a mud-puddle on that approach to the Donkey Line so churned up by local youngsters on their stunt bikes. Time was going by fast. The fates were clearly against. 

We continued along the bridle path, however, Phil complaining about the sogginess and commenting on how bad it was to the numerous walkers we kept having to circumnavigate. Everyone and their grandmother seemed to be out walking their dog or pushing a child in a buggy and saying, “I should have worn my wellies instead of these shoes!” Thank heavens for my really good bicycle bell! It worked beautifully to warn people of our presence, except for the lady with her earbuds in and her music clearly so loud that she was quite oblivious until we were almost on top of her! This is another thing I fail to understand, the need to listen to music and podcasts while out walking - it’s dangerous and you miss all the birdsong ... and you risk being run over by a cyclist, even one with a bell!

On top of everything else, the air was really cold and our fingerless cycling gloves were offering seriously inadequate protection. By the time we reached the end of the Donkey Line we both had frozen fingers. So we weighed up our options. We could continue to Greenfield, freeze our fingers even more thoroughly, maybe have to stand in a queue to get into Tesco, do our bit of shopping and then cycle home, probably in the growing dark. Or we could call it a day, turn round and cycle back along the Donkey Line and go home for a cup of tea. 

The cup of tea won.

But I got a nice photo of the winter sky! 

We now need to seek out and order winter quality cycling gloves and venture out on a supermarket foray another day.

Today is grey and damp again. My early morning run took me round the village, past the millpond. The heron had posted himself on one of the designated fishing spots for the local angling society - for some unfathomable reason called “pegs” - looking for all the world as if he was preventing a human fisherman from using it. And I swear the weatherman promised us if not really warmer than at least less cold conditions today but my phone app tells me it’s 7 degrees and the damp makes it feel chillier. I doubt we’ll go adventuring much more today.

Out in the wider world, Georgia has had a recount and confirmed that they did choose Biden over Trump for POTUS. Maybe Mr Trump will have to accept the fait accompli. Watch this space!

Here in the UK the Labour Party continues to tear itself apart over the Jeremy Corbyn question. My brother -in-law tells me the Welsh branch has just taken a vote of no-confidence in Keir Starmer. What a mess!

The Tories largely manage to stand together. There may be rumblings of dissent but it seems that they are mostly refusing to take notice of rulings about Priti Patel’s bullying of minions. Somehow the right is always better at closing ranks. ‘Twas ever thus!

But, hey! Christmas is coming! There are mince pies on sale in the co-op store! No Christmas songs yet though!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!