Saturday started in the usual way; after being dark for a while, it got lighter.
I got up early and went downstairs to check on my mobile phone. When I got downstairs, I remembered that I didn't have a phone, because it was dead in a drawer at work. Whilst I muttered swear words at myself, I made a cup of tea. Once that had been drunk, I set off for a 7 mile walk.
It was a cold and bright morning, but the Dorset countryside had an eerie beauty to it as I strode purposefully along. I had two walks planned for this day - a strict requirement of my "walk 21 miles a weekend" regime. I must add though, that I don't normally walk two 7 mile walks in one day. It was only because I was unable to do a walk on the Friday afternoon (due to being at work) that my hand - or rather, my feet - had been forced, and I had no choice but to do two walks today.
I could have done the two walks on the Sunday, technically - but I preferred to get them out of the way.
I was a little bit annoyed that I wasn't able to track my walk this morning (no mobile blah blah blah), and for the briefest of moments the idea of not walking at all popped into my head - but this was soon chased away by the notion of doing the walking regardless. After all, the walking is about getting fitter and losing weight, not how I actually walked. So I strode on.
On the way back, as I neared home, I bumped into a friend who was out walking his dog. We got chatting, and the subject of exercise came up. My friend - lets call him Steve, because that is his name - mentioned that he was looking for a bike, and as he said so, a lightbulb went off in my head. I told Steve that I had a bike I didn't use anymore, and that he was welcome to it. Being so close to home, I took Steve round to have a look. He had a look, and said that he was going to Yeovil to a bike shop to look around, but he would chat to his missus, and bring her round later to have a look. With that being agreed, Steve left.
Well, there was nothing else to say at that point.
Now, Saturday mornings are my time to blitz my housework. I normally do it once I have returned from food shopping, but as this had been done yesterday I didn't have to wait. What I did have to do though, was put in a little bit of extra effort, as Steve and his wife would be coming over later. Don't get me wrong - I do my housework to a good standard, but there is a difference in the house being tidied for me, and the house being tidied for visitors. The main difference is dusting: if people are coming over I'll dust, and of not, I'll most likely leave it until the next week.
However, I also discovered that 'putting a little more effort in' would manifest itself by my cleaning and tidying of random things. Because I knew I had guests coming over, I:
• Cleaned the glass on the door of the washing machine and the oven.
• Brought down a small hand towel and draped it over the sink in the bathroom.
• Wiped down and dried all my coasters. And all my TV remotes.
• Went and bought a new shower head.
But, I only put this extra effort in to the areas of my home where visitors are allowed. So my bedroom wasn't really immaculate (no one has been there in a long time :-( ). I guess my cleaning is the housework equivalent of when you only iron the parts of a long sleeved shirt that can been seen when it is worn under a suit jacket.
Incidentally, when I bought my new shower head, I paid £5 for it. I could have go one for £16 - but that was a five setting shower head called 'The Cinqo'. According to the packaging, the Cinqo has five settings: Jet, pulse, massage, invigorate, and Bubble. Now I don't know about you, but surely having "Bubble" as a setting for a shower head is a bit of a waste of time? If I'm taking a shower, why would I want bubbles coming out of the shower head? You wouldn't be able to do anything with yourself with that setting on your shower. So I decided against splashing out on this deluxe shower head. It's like I've always said: "What I've got will do just fine.
Once the house was tidy, and after a light lunch, it was time to do another walk. This walk was pretty uneventful (it was the same route as previously) - that is until the last mile home.....
It was a cold day, and as I walked back towards home, my nose was running and I was sniffing. Suddenly I realised that I had a nosebleed, and had to walk the last mile home with my right hand clamped over my nostrils.
The thought entered my head that because I was walking quite fast, my heart rate was up and so the clotting of the blood my take a bit longer as my heart was pumping the stuff round faster than normal. Nonetheless, I made it home. I was a little bloodied, very tired, but okay,
The rest of the day was easy and relaxing. Later that night, I watched the live boxing on Sky Sports 1. It was a good fight, but I did get annoyed when the programme producers felt it was necessary to apologise for an occasional bit of bad language from each boxers corner between rounds. I know they have to do this whenever a celebrity swears on camera, but in the context where a sport shown late in the evening, which younger children should not be watching, in which two men try to punch seven bells out of each other, an occasional swearword should be expected and not commented on.
What next - apologies for the loudness of the explosions and gunfire from news reports in Afghanistan?
Give me a break!!