Fate wants to remind me of the perils of riding a horse or a bike

On Sunday I went for a lovely ride in the countryside with buster. We normally go out for about 1.5 or 2 hours but this time we went for a 3.5 hour ride. He had a great time but about half way around I started to feel a bit chaffed in my nether regions. Lucky me, especially as I was at the furthest point and just had to ride it out  so to speak. I won’t get graphic but let’s say a lot of sudocrem will be involved for several days and I feared for my girly bits for the cycle ride to work.

Morning came, and with it, less discomfort (Thankfully). But it was raining cats and dogs.

Cycling in the rain is not a favourite pastime of mine but I did it anyway this morning. I made sure my seat position was not too inappropriate, and I carefully manoeuvred myself around the slippery roads and objects that disappeared behind giant splodges of rain on my glasses. I wasn’t ecstatic to be out there, but I was far less happy when I found myself laying on the floor.

That’s right folks. Gravity, at the whim of a middle-aged umbrella-weilding man, embraced me and my steed in an ungainly sideways debacle. Being pushed off a cycle track on to the road, I was lucky that no car came and made my day a whole lot less conscious, but as fate would have it, the coast was clear while I scrambled to my feet and assured the unwitting assailant that yes, I was fine.

No blood, no broken bones, just a salient reminder of the dangers that a cyclist must face, some bruising and some pretty crippling muscular aches.

I pushed my shaking self to continue the journey and by the time I got to work id almost calmed down. I gobbled down some painkillers and (after some requisite moaning) got on with my day. I even cycled home. Can you believe that? Sore all over and adrenally exhausted as I was, I still got my self and my bike home without either of us trying to take a midjourney nap on the road.

I call that progress.

So there we go folks, lessons learned here are: If you are going to fall off, do it from a bike not a horse (much closer to the ground that way). Give umbrella-armed people an extra two metres of room to allow for random movements. Sudocrem makes a lot of things better. Make sure you aren’t tilting your pelvis when you horseride, and don’t judge the best length of ride on the fitness or roadworthiness of your steed, but rather on the hardiness of your crotch.

At least these adventures have not (yet) yielded boils or sores…and rider, horse and bike are in the correct number of pieces (even if some pieces feel like they’ve been brutally tenderised.

I look forward in earnest (although do not fully expect) to waking up tomorrow and being able to move my back normally.

Stay safe out there kids, and don’t wear synthetic undies for sports, or, maybe ever. k?

“Don’t try to get away
I’m here to stay
My name is fate”~curve, fait accomplis

A wing can cover all sorts of things

Cyclists in this city can be total arse-wipes.

A cyclist jumps a red light.
Does anyone care? Probably not, the drivers may tut.

A cyclist jumps a red light while a lady is crossing the road.
The lady grumbles to herself.

Six cyclists jump a red red light while a lady is crossing the road.
The lady gets caught up in a mass of bikes, she has to stop to avoid being hit from either side and is pretty annoyed.

Six cyclists jump a red light while a lady and her five year-old son are crossing the road.
The lady and child have to stop midway across the road, the child is scared and both are stressed and the lady shouts something like “Hey, watch out!”

Six cyclists jump a red light while a lady and her 5 year old son with downsyndrome cross the road (the boy is skipping happily holding his mum’s hand)
The lady has a meltdown in the middle of the road after her son is nearly hit by a bike, she yells out “what the hell is going on here? Can’t you see the lights?! It’s fucking DANGEROUS!  For fuck’s sake!

^True story

I had noted the skipping of the lad and smiled to myself as I waited at the red light (I remember skipping along before I got too old for it to be cute) and some moments later focused on the scene on the other side of the road. I raised an eyebrow but I applaud this lady for standing up for herself and child even though the swearing could in theory have been avoided, she must have a hard enough task in hand even before turds on pushbikes go trying to knock the pair of them down like bowling balls. It has become all too common for cyclists to think that it’s OK to jump lights, or manoeuvre without signalling or even checking their surroundings, that it’s perfectly dandy to forgo lights at night time and weave all over the road, so incredibly engrossed are they in themselves and their personal goal that they think the rules don’t apply and that they are special. Well yes, if that was you trying to knock down a kid with downsyndrome just to gain yourself 30 seconds on your journey, you are a particularly special brand of self-centred, wank-stained prick who aught to have a kick in their privates if they break the basic rules of the road again, and have their bike impounded, or at least defaced appropriately at the soonest convenience.

“Nobody else is slipping the blade in the marmalade”

Get out of my way, you fucking moron!

That’s what a cyclist yelled out this evening

“get out of my way, you fucking moron!”

I can only assume that someone took a dump in his desk drawer at work today or something. I’m not sure if this comment was intended for me, or the bikes coming the other way, or the stars, or the headlights but either way it seemed a bit unnecessary. I reckon he could do with listening to a bit more Jewel. I’m having a Jewel kind of week so far…despite the undeniable religious over, mid and undertones of many of her songs, the lyrics that don’t involve god, often provoke a sense of serenity and quiet introspection. Hands for example opens with the  following:

“If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we’re all OK
And not to worry ’cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these”

I find the sentiment both charmingly simple and culturally sagacious. It makes me think. We spend so much time and effort worrying and stressing, fretting and waiting for the sky to fall that we miss out on the good stuff. jewel declares that she won’t be idle with despair, and sometimes I need to be reminded just how wasteful it IS to just sit around being depressed and letting the whole damned world beat you up.

I’ll bet mister pottymouth on a bicycle has spent way too much time worrying, possibly about the lingering smell of the aforementioned hypothetical turd, and forgotten that sometimes it’s OK to give way to someone else, and sometimes you just have to sit back and enjoy the ride.

Jewel is right about a good few things, and the importance of kindness is right up there. We spend our depressed, egotistical little lives scratching at intruders and causing each other pain, when a little pinch of kindness would go a long way.

I’ve also justfinished reading the invisible man and frankly am disappointed…I think the reader is supposed to feel some empathy towards the invisible man, but he’s such an intolerable prick that frankly, I was releived when he died and I didn’t have to read about him again. I’ll try the time
Machine and work out if H.G. Wells just isn’t for me….

PS no I am not on any new exciting drugs, unless you count salbutamol as exciting…its hardly recreational.

Anger is rising

Today has left me feeling all kinds of annoyed. Firstly, the morning came too soon again. It’s been happening more and more. You know, someone stealing those precious dreamy hours away from me. It’s some kind of elaborate scheme so someone else can siphon off hours for their own pleasure, only I’m just too dumb to catch them in the act. One day I’ll catch them and then I’ll be able to sleep 12 hours a day AND do my job.

I’ve vowed never to return to that bike shop. I’ve been going to this shop religiously since I bought my bike there a few years ago. They were always super helpful, did little jobs with no charge and didn’t lie about how much things were going to cost. I trusted them. The staff have changed and maybe the management too.
Not only was I royally shafted (for the second time), but I was insulted again….when I went to collect I was asked IF I knew what kind of bike it is. Firstly, they should damned well know from my name which bike it is and secondly, clearly as I’ve got two x chromosomes I am supposed to shrug my shoulders or giggle and say a pink one with a wicker basket. Unimpressed face ensued, and I was prompted as to whether I knew the make…the delay was not because I didn’t know, I was angry…its a women’s Scott sports hybrid bike. I almost told him the model and frame size but he wouldn’t have got my point.
I’m actually unhappy with BOTH of the brakes, I do not think that they have been set up properly and I will have to fix them myself, as I should have done in the first place. As for the last visit there where they messed up my lock while fixing a pannier rack and I had to fix it myself because the boy working there was trying to permanently fix the lock to the bike….and I was charged labour for that! Can you imagine! And the kid just looked at me like, oh yeah I’ve just spent loads of time watching you fix that up and time is money. The rack was overpriced anyway. Grrr. Never again.

Ok that’s enough venting of anger. There is more, but I can’t write about it so I’ll just bend someone’s ear in 3D.


“What if all the world you used to know
Is an elaborate dream?”

Oh take me with you

Oh woeful woe is me. What cruel fate must plunge me into so dreary and unrelenting a day! I awoke to the twin sensations of a belly full of eels, and a skull full of angry fighting pufferfish. I knew right then that I was set for a good’un.

I was meant to read a student’s report this weekend. I forgot. At 8:30am when I went to my work bag, there it sat, all pristine and unencumbered with strings of red ink. A great sigh ensued, and maybe a little groan of despondency. I cycled to the bike shop who proceeded to tell me not only that the job would cost 3 x what I expected, but also that women never use the back brake. Oh really? And just as I took a run up to get on my super high feminist horse, I realised that in my case, yes that is probably true, so I merely raised a single eyebrow, evoking no response from the bike fixer upper. The nice guy who used to do my bike fixing left apparently, so not only would I be ripped off and belittled, I would also have to either leave work around 4pm or get my damned bike tomorrow morning. That other mechanic used to stay until 6:30pm for me to collect. I don’t much like change.

And so onto the nauseo-bus wenteth I, complete with reading material. The reading sadly extended beyond the journey, into the lab and infringed most horribly on my toast and marmite break. I did a lot of sighing and exclaiming. It was deserved.

One of my colleagues ran the wrong samples for me, so I have a less than perfect dataset. Gah! I colour coded the damned tubes and specified what colour needed analysis….In his defense, I  think he might have an aversion to yellow and I certainly don’t blame him for that. Thing is, I remember seeing him with the blue ones and I never clicked that they were the backups. Doh!

I’ve got the next draft of that student’s report to read again (well I couldn’t make myself read the whole thing this morning) and I just want to sleep but I haven’t yet mastered scrawling in red ink while unconscious, but if I do, you’ll be the first to know.

The march is over
The great destroyer’

It’s raining cats and horses

Why the title?  It’s been raining all pigging day


Here is my 15’2 buddy Buster, striking his best show horse pose in the winter sun. The shadow is, of course, me.

We had a really great ride together, I togged the pair of us up in hi-vis gear and we charged off to terrorise the local deer population. Those 4 that we always see hanging around calmly didn’t know what apocalyptic events were unfolding as we cantered towards them! I have to add that because I was expecting a trippy horse and therefore imminent ejection onto the ground, I sat really deep and kept my heels down and I’m pretty sure we would have aced a dressage test with that pace but those pesky deer ran straight in front of our path, ruining the concentration of all and drawing our attention to the shooters who were approaching from the left. Now, we are fairly sure we have permussion to ride this stubble field, but just in case figured we’d exit the land before we were intercepted….or, yknow…shot.

I also had fun with the farm cats. One who was originally homed here on account of he was too feral to be picked up, attacked me for cuddles. I must have bent forward a trifle from standing and the damned noisy beast jumped right into my unexpectant arms and proceeded to purr loudly at me and do laps of my neck! Don’t get me wrong, he’s super cute and excellent at correcting my feline diction for me but I have genuine concern about the cleanliness of claws that go hunting rabbits all day long. That aside he’s the most friendly cat ever so I have no idea what they do to animals at rehoming centres but it can’t be that good..

I’m finally going to take my bike in to be fixed. I thought I could do without the rear brake but apparently not. I stopped to pick up something that a cyclist dropped, peddled over to them, hauled on the brake and sailed way on past. Oh the shame. The downside to bikefixedness, however, is that I’ll have to take the bus to work until they’ve fixed it and will consequently most likely be in a foul and paranoid mood all day. So I look forward to that.

 “I want two stars for arms like orion”

Fate doesn’t want me to get out of bed at 6am

Today, I made several grave weather-related errors:

When I read the weather forecast and it didn’t agree with what I saw, I should have put more faith in my eyes than the virtual weatherman.

When I suspected foul weather I should have donned my waterproof trousers and considered something other than a long jumper that hangs out beneath my jacket.

When the gloomy sky made itself known, I should have tied my hair up and not bothered applying makeup.

When my glasses steamed up, I should have taken them off straight away rather than cycling through a hazy woozy house of mirrors for 10 mins.

This is the second day in a row of getting up at 6 and cycling to work for 8:30. On both occasions I was miserably and comprehensively soaked, and had to forego my glasses because even my own blurry sight is better than the steamy distorted alternative. Clearly the universe is telling me that I must not go to work at such an hour, and I think I will heed that warning, lest I get struck down by lightening tomorrow.

Why Universe!? why must I be shat on for making an effort for once in my damned life?

P.s.When I was offered a morning coffee I should have jolly well drunk it.

“She said: I hate the rain
But here it comes again”