WHEEL ISSUE RESOLVED

Today I took delivery of my new rims.

I also have 72 stainless steel spokes and nipples. I am delighted with the rims, described as they are on the Mavic website as "bombproof"; exactly what I wanted. I have lost my new freehub body which disappeared with the old wheel, but I'm happy to put that one down to experience. I'm annoyed at the length of time taken to sort this out, but happy that, once I have built the wheels up, I will have a far superior set of handbuilt wheels, built by my own fair hands. I have placed spoke washers on all the new spokes! Spoke washers!

BACK IN THE WARMTH

I noticed today that my blog "Coming in from the Cold" was left unfinished. This was the blog I created to document my move to Cardiff. I finished it today. Click on the title to go to the blog.

WORLD CUP OVER!

Today I have spent most of the day involved in churchy things:

• 9.30am - 10.30am Holy Eucharist (Anglican, fairly boring).
• 10.30am - 11.30am PtL*
• 4.00pm - 5.00pm Sea Sunday**

Between times I have been cooking dinner, printing service sheets and having a bath - quite a busy day all in all, especially for a Sabbath!

I was unable to watch any of the live TdF broadcast during the afternoon, so we watched the highlights between 7 and 8pm. Interestingly, my daughter Jasmine (10) commented;

"It's not fair" as yet another closeup of an unplaced and struggling Lance Armstrong filled our screen.

"What's not?" I asked.

"At school they talked about Wimbledon and they talked about The World Cup, but they haven't talked about the Tour de France!" Good point well made, No. 1 Daughter!

I will supply her with some merchandise so that she can bring up this iniquity herself.

Afterwards, we watched Top Gear, where the running joke was;

"We can say what we like, no-one's watching. The World Cup is live on BBC1 and ITV, who is going to be watching us?" Well, 4 of us were.

After Top Gear, children and wife headed off to feather and flop, and I watched the remaining minutes of the World Cup, just so I'd know what noises to make tomorrow. Just my luck that it should go into extra time. So this is it - the pinnacle of footballing excellence. Players being shown a yellow card for kicking the ball away. Is it the same yellow card every time? Someone got to see it twice, which earned him a red card, and he got to go off early. Ah well, it's all over. It is, now.

*PtL - Praise the Lord, a new initiative led by Phill Needs, a theatrical type with a guitar, held in the Lady chapel after the main Eucharist. Supposed to be a fun learning experience, turned into a battle of wills to keep up with him as he raced through his repertoire. Things will improve, this was the first one.

**Sea Sunday - nationwide (worldwide?) church inititaive. We gathered at the docks with the town silver band and sang rousing hymns, said prayers etc. Well attended, good fun.

TdF 1ST MOUNTAIN STAGE

Chavanel takes the Yellow Jersey back from Cancellara.

Andy Schleck takes the White Jersey from Geraint Thomas, which is a shame, though he's done it without the usual support of brother Frank Schleck, who is out with a broken collarbone.

Roll on the big mountains! Finish on Morzine!

TEXT COLOUR

I'm enjoying having a transparent blog with a photograph of a bicycle behind it. I think it looks "right". It has its problems though, the main one being text colour. My Facebook friend Dominique made a comment tonight that the red text was difficult to read, and while it's great that the blog looks good, first and foremost it must be easy to read.

After a little experimentation, I've switched from red to white. What do you think?

FFALD-Y-BRENIN

The vicar and I are going to a meeting at Ffald-y-Brenin Christian retreat centre today. The meeting is from 3pm to around 8pm. The vicar can't pick me up till 3, as his wife uses the family car, and it won't be back till then.

We were discussing this yesterday, outside the church, in the steadily pouring rain. I was leaning on my bike, ready to come home for lunch. He couldn't wait to get out of the rain and back into the Rectory.

I was going to suggest we cycle.

Ffald-y-Brenin is in the lovely Gwaun Valley, on the edge of the Preseli Hills in North Pembrokeshire, around 25 miles from here - a very pleasant 2 hour ride for me, nearer 3 hours with the Rev in tow on his mountain bike, but he'd never even attempt it. He'd happily go for a 15 mile walk, but getting him on the bike is another matter.

Consequently, we miss an hour of what promises to be a very interesting meeting indeed.

SOME THOUGHTS ON TdF AND LONG DISTANCE CYCLING

Watching the Tour de France, I become lost in my own thoughts.

I realised a couple of nights ago while watching the Holland v Uruguay World Cup semi-final with a visiting friend that I (and the rest of my family) struggle to watch 22 men kick an air-filled leather bag around a rectangular field for 90ish minutes; we find the concept of cricket, where a single game can last a week, incomprehensible, yet we will happily engross ourselves in the spectacle and politics of a couple of hundred men talking a leisurely three-week cycle tour around foreign countryside.

Speaking personally, I love it because I understand it.

I don't mean I understand all the rules.

I don't mean I understand the crazy goings-on behind the scenes.

I mean I understand "it".

I love cycling long distances, especially over a few consecutive days, where you can really "get into the groove" of cycling. My family don't understand this as yet, though they're perfectly happy to allow me to go off and indulge myself. My two older children will happily cycle 10 miles or so, which is pretty good for a 10 and a 7 year old. They'd probably go further if I took them. The oldest likes to get out in front and just travel along "in her own little world", just like me. I'm looking forward to the time when we can go off together for whole weekends!

People (non-cyclists) look horrified when I tell them how far I like to cycle. Even the average "person-with-a-bike" (as opposed to Cyclists) does. Personally, I don't understand how one can own a bike and still be limited to your home town. Doesn't the desire to travel That Bit Further grab you by the neck and drag you along the nearest exit from town? One of the advantages cycling has over walking is that you can go that much faster, that much further. It's the whole point.

When you know you're going to be in the saddle all day long, you take a very different approach to nipping to the shops:

• You check your bike assiduously (if you have any sense).
• You dress appropriately. Comfort is everything.
• You start off slowly. Energy conservation is paramount.
• You make sure you have good stocks of food and drink.

You'll kick off at a nice leisurely pace and allow your muscles to ease into a rhythm, to warm up and speed up naturally, and it's often surprising how quickly you find your pace increasing. Pedalling as lightly as you can, realising how energy-efficient you can be, is a great way to travel.

As you develop your own pace (this is why I prefer solitary cycling - going at my pace rather than that dictated by others) you fall into a rhythm which is dictated by the state of your musculature and you start to maintain that rhythm, regardless of terrain. Shallow inclines start to disappear, as you just increase the power of your pedalling to keep your cadence. You soon get to know which gear you need to be in as a hill approaches, rather than have to suddenly crunch down them halfway up.

Even riding with others, when you're covering a long distance, there is little time for conversation. You are very much "on your own" and it's this I find attractive. I can travel with or without an ipod, though I do prefer to travel with one so I have the choice of silence or a backing track.

A 3-day cycle ride is a guarantee of 3 days of solitude!

If you stop anywhere, say at a roadside burger van for a cup of tea, if you're a trucker or a car driver, the griddle-monkey will have set conversational pieces ready for you "A30 chokker"; "David Cameron? Wankah!" etc, but not for cyclists. They know you want good strong tea. They know the chances are you'll be tempted by the smell of bacon, but beyond fulfilling your needs and taking your money there's no more common ground than between a fish and an ant. They'll usually leave you well alone.

If they do feel the need to make conversation, having stood alone by the roadside all morning, you can always whip out the trusty multitool and start fiddling with something on your bike. If they persist, ask them to hold the chain. This is a last resort, and rarely needs to be deployed. If you're dampened with sweat, they'll usually stay far enough away to render polite conversation impractical.

Obviously, while you're on your bike, the nearest you'll get to meaningful discourse is a motorist shouting at you for taking up too much road at a roundabout and causing them to have to slow down. Hand gestures are perfectly adequate and eloquent by way of reply, and you don't need to shout.

MY BIG RIDE, THE MAP

Here is the GPS trace from MY BIG RIDE. The Blue section is Day One, the Red section Day Two, and the Green squiggle is Day Three. (where I got lost. The rest of Day Three is mingled in with the Taff Trail)

Below are the related altitude traces.

(Johnston to Carmarthen, and Cardiff back to Pembrokeshire were done by train)

MY BIG RIDE PART 3

The intention was to cycle from Cardiff back to Pembrokeshire, or at least Carmarthen. I only had my GPS for company, no maps to consult. My experience of NCN cycle routes is that they're usually very well signposted and negate the need for map-carrying. I'd slept well at my friend Colin's and woken early, around 5.30am.

It was a warm and sunny morning, so I lit out around 6, taking the Taff Trail back out of Cardiff to Pontypridd to link up with Route 47 which heads west to Neath and onwards to Carmarthen. Sustrans spent the whole of last year bombarding me with emails about their wonderful "Valleys Network" of cycle trails, so I was looking forward to trying it out.

It didn't work.

Finding Route 47 was harder than it might seem, and involved riding up and down through Abercynon a few times and going off-route through the town, but I did eventually find it. However, after a couple miles I came upon a T junction with a signpost right for "high level" Route 47 but no low-level alternative. I took the high level route and went up some serious gradients along quite lanes, but then the trail went off over a locked gate up a very stony forest trail. After a few miles of this I came upon a motocross trail and asked a couple of guys for directions, but in typical valleys fashion they sent me round in circles. Thanks Lads. Every direction involved a steep hill, and when I finally rejoined so-called civilisation at Mountain Ash, I was getting a bit tired. The sun was high in the heavens, the day was hot, and I had had no breakfast. It was Sunday - there was only a convenience store showing signs of life in Mountain Ash and I managed to buy the worst Cornish Pasty I have ever tasted there. According to the station timetable, there were trains to Cardiff or Aberdare. It was annoying and frustrating to have to go back to Cardiff after wasting so much effort, but getting anywhere else would take even more effort.

I decided to ride back down the trail, and got to Cardiff station with only minutes to spare before the Swansea train. Phew.

TdF

It's THAT time of year again!

How many families up and down the country are looking forward to being unable to watch Emmerdale/Coronation Street (I refuse to call it Corrie or any other abbreviation)/Eastenders because the highlights of the Tour de France are being shown on ITV4between 7 and 8pm every night?

We are! As a family, we love it.

My wife has had the TdF theme as a ringtone on her phone for the past year. My daughter wears her TdF baseball cap to school with pride.

It's fantastic.

Wimbledon fascinated the kids this year. I usually watch the men's and women's singles finals, but only so as not to be a social leper, and if it's showing signs of going on too long I'll have a kip. Thankyou Serena Williams, I missed my afternoon nap yesterday.

The World Cup is obviously talked about at school, but actually sitting down and watching a game of football is a non-starter in our house. The fidgeting starts before Gary Lineker has opened his mouth. We're NOT INTERESTED in the England Team with their bloated egos and salaries to match. When Germany spanked their arses and sent them home I laughed, I really did.

THREE WEEKS of cycling around a foreign country? Bring It On!

WHEELY GOOD

My new rims and spokes are being ordered. I will be building the wheels myself.

MY BIG RIDE PART 2

After a not unreasonable night's sleep, I woke around 6am. I listened again to the Barefoot Doctor's Supercharged Taoist guided meditations and some psalms, did some slow stretching, testing the pressure on my knees. Nothing felt particularly untoward. The morning was overcast and misty. I sorted through all my stuff, then wandered the grounds of the Youth Hostel awaiting breakfast at 8, which was a good one. All the cereal and toast you could eat, a modest fried breakfast, and plenty of tea. Perfect, although I forgot to fill my flask.

I cycled down the canal towpath into Brecon, arriving at the basin by the theatre in plenty of time. I was very surprised when not one but two coachloads of people arrived, along with the Pedal Power van and trailer, and a builder's lorry with bikes piled on the back. I'd expected around 20 people, if that!

Strangely, the only person I recognised was Drew. He made clear that he would probably be the slowest person around the course, so I made the decision that rather than tag along with another rider or a group, I'd lead off and set a good starting pace.

The canal towpath was congested. After a couple of miles the route swings off down country lanes and I was soon free of the crowds and whizzing along. Talybont Reservoir was the first real stopping place, just for a photo. A couple of other cyclists were close behind me and also stopped, but I don't even know if they were on the ride. I kicked off again, along Six Mile Bank

which was very hard going for my thin road tyres. I was caught up by a few people as I stopped to photograph the view; a dad and son combo on full-sus mountain bikes who were rapidly losing steam, and a chap on a hybrid who looked tasty. He kept edging ahead, even when I was talking to him, which I took to be the "tossing of the gauntlet". I tucked in behind him, led him up the sting-in-the-tail climb at the end, and, after a brief water stop at the van, left him for dead on the hill where we rejoined the road, with a tasty option to eat my dust.

It seemed like I'd made Merthyr Tydfil in a matter of minutes, and from here the ride is pretty much all downhill, though progress is severely hampered by the plethora of barriers and chicanes one has to negotiate, particularly between Pontypridd and Cardiff.

(Later that day, my friend Colin asked me "Did you put your stuff on the van?". At first I had no idea what he was talking about, but what he meant was, had I loaded my panniers onto the van in Brecon for them to bring back to Cardiff for me? It hadn't even occurred to me to do that. Shedding the weight would probably have shaved a good 20 minutes off my time anyway, but the extra time spent lifting my panniers over stupid barriers would have probably given me a further 20 minutes at least!)

Arriving at Tongwynlais I met Keith Underdown and stopped for a brief chat, but having no idea how far behind me the next man was, I pressed on.

At the finish, I was a good 20 minutes ahead of second, which quite staggered me. It was commented on that I'd cycled 52 miles in around 4.5 hours and "didn't look bothered". I wasn't.

THE BONK

No! Not that sort! Ooer!

The Bonk to which I refer is the one to which cyclists allude. "I was on for a well-timed 100k, cruising along quite happily, when around 70k I bonked..." They're not talking about suddenly leaping from their steed to engage in sexual intercourse with anyone who happens to be passing, because:

1. it would take them too long to get their bib tights off
2. no-one, in their right mind or otherwise, would let a sweaty cyclist anywhere near them, especially in broad daylight
3. after 70k they'd rather have a cup of tea.

No, what they're talking about is what I think I experienced on my ride to Brecon. I had been sailing along. I cannot stress how effortless I felt the first 40 miles had been. Admittedly, the hill I ascended at around 45 miles was a complete Bastard on which a wasp started to attack my face, causing me to make a terminal stop on a 16% gradient, but I was still feeling fine as I breasted the hill and began my long and very rapid descent (42mph). I even experienced quite worrying speed wobble, something I seem to have read quite a bit about lately, but similarly, not experienced much before. As the gradient levelled out and I was beginning to have to pedal again, I found my right knee would tolerate NO pressure whatsover without causing me great pain, and I couldn't let my left leg take the strain as the power had drained from every fibre of tendon and muscle. I felt cold-sweaty, mildly dizzy and slightly nauseous. I followed the signs for the Brecon Beacons visitor centre and was soon dismounted and pushing my bike up a seemingly innocuous incline (coming down later I realised it was considerably steeper than I first conceived it to be). Even walking was painful. I made the visitor centre after a long hard struggle and immediately doused my head to cool down and bought a nice big meal - a huge beef pie and salad, which was just what the doctor ordered. It recovered me sufficiently to cruise on into Brecon, but only because the rest of the journey was downhill. I used high strength Ibuleve gel on my knee as soon as I got to a chemist, and when I made the Youth Hostel had a cool shower and went to sleep within minutes. I don't think the Ibuleve had any effect, though the sleep did, and there was no sign of the pain the following morning, though I was ultra cautious for the first few miles.

I put it down to my low-carb diet, which I had been following for a month or so. Ive certainly pushed myself harder than I did that day, but the worst I'd experienced was a mild lethargy and an urge to lay down and go to sleep somewhere. Nothing like this. It was a bit scary, if I'm honest.

MY BIG RIDE, PART 1

I haven't told you about my Big Ride yet! Sorry!

My "training" and preparations were quite badly disrupted by the disintegration of my rear road wheel (see previous posts) so I wasn't feeling very confident come the day, and had the feeling I might have overstretched myself. Rather than run the risk of exhausting or injuring myself on the first day, I decided I would take the train to Carmarthen (about 30 miles) and start my cycle from there. Trains from here start at 7.05 and get into Carmarthen around 8.15am. It's usually quite a full train and fairly unpleasant. There is often only one old and dirty carriage. From Milford Haven, just across the river, the first train is at 6am, and is always a newer, larger train, so I decided to cycle 5 miles along the Brunel Trail and catch the train at Johnston, getting me to Carmarthen for 7am.

The sun was just over the horizon and heading towards a fairly cloudless sky as I left the house for a hasty scoot over the bridge (left it a bit late) but I made the station with a good 10 minutes to spare. The train was spacious, and I cocooned myself in my ipod and read my bible. I listened to some inspirational mediations from The Barefoot Doctor, and I'm actually convinced that these made all the difference to my physical and mental well being!

At Carmarthen, the sky was a good deal cloudier and there was an early morning mist hugging the hills, but the sun was fighting its way through. The chilliness was welcome, and I headed out along the main A40 through Llandeilo and Llandovery towards my destination at Brecon.

I stopped at two roadside chuck wagons, having a bacon roll at the first, and just a cup of tea at the second, and despite taking my time I was astounded at the time I was making. Arriving at Sennybridge around 12.30pm with only 10 miles to go, I decided to take the longer route via the Brecon Beacons visitor centre, which involved an extra 10 miles and a couple of serious climbs, the second of which saw my knee collapse beneath me.

As I turned off the main road to take the road to the visitor centre, me energy drained from me completely. My right knee quickly became excruciatingly painful, and at one point just would not turn. It was all I could do to push the bike, though I did get back on and make it up to the visitor centre (note: two signs, about a mile apart, both indicating 1.5 miles cannot be right...).

I found the cafe and had a HUGE beef pie and salad with a pot of tea - perfect. I sat around for a while waiting for the pain in my knee to subside, but it showed no signs of abating, so I headed off again. Fortunately the whole 5 or 6 miles into Brecon were downhill.

Upon arrival I found a chemist and bought some Ibuleve extra strength gel and some paracetamol and headed out to find the Youth Hostel, which is a couple of miles out in the middle of nowhere, but well signposted.

NEW WHEELS!

The bike shop phoned today. I can have new wheels built. They will accept my front wheel back and credit me with enough to enable the shop to build me a couple of decent touring wheels. This is a good outcome.

THE MISSING WHEEL

I spoke to the bike shop again today. Madison have "credited me with a new wheel" but as yet we don't know how much this is! I have asked if they will also credit me with the front wheel, as it's part of a set, and I'm now left with a fairly useless wheel. I've also asked if the old wheel can be returned because my new freehub body is on there. We shall see, though I don't hold out much hope on the latter, really, as they've probably binned the wheel by now.

I've asked if new rims can be built around my old large-flange Dura-Ace hubs. Yes, Dura-Ace. Very old Dura-Ace, but still in excellent condition. This is currently being looked into, as it will involve more spokes (both front and rear are 36 spoke hubs), so somewhere along the line I expect this to cost me money, which I don't actually have.

Using the old hubs means I have to go back to using a 6 speed freewheel block rather than an 8 speed cassette. I intend to take the Stronglight triple chainset off and replace with smaller rings anyway as I just do not use big gears anymore, so I don't see any problem with losing a few gears along the way. It will lighten the load. Imagine, a mere 18 gears!

THE BRUNEL RIDE

The yearly Brunel Cycle Ride runs, obviously enough, between Johnston and Neyland in Pembrokeshire, along the course of an old railway line now called The Brunel Cycle Trail. In previous years I've had the thankless task of helping to organise the event and get people there to help and to marshall. This year I declined, making it clear that I would be there with my children and that having an enjoyable time with them would be my sole intention.

Getting there is hard work. From Pembroke Dock one has to cycle over the Cleddau bridge (Pont Cleddau) and the smaller Westfield Bridge. There is a very nice wide cycle path alongside the main A477 across both bridges and despite the steep hill to the bridge the ride is very pleasant. After crossing Westfield Bridge, the Brunel Trail can be accessed via The Zigzag. This is a gravel path which descends with steps down a very steep embankment. To get me, my children and our cycles down there is a logistical nightmare and very strenuous. It involves leaving two cycles and a child at the top, descending halfway with the other child and their cycle. I then leave that child on a bench while I return to the top for the two other bikes and the other child. These I take all the way down, then return for the first child. Much of the gravel has been washed from beneath the concrete steps by rain, making the steps very high for little legs. Pembrokeshire County Council have apparently secured £250,000 of funding to improve access here, but frankly I'll believe it when I see it.

Rather than use the Zigzag, we continue half a mile or so up the road to Honeyborough Roundabout, where we turn off the main road and cycle down into the village of Neyland. The road itself is quite dangerous with fast and heavy traffic, but we can get off the road quite quickly and onto Neyland Vale, a traffic-free route down to the river. The whole ride is probably an extra 2 miles, but worth the effort.

We had been told that this year's ride was to start and finish at Johnston School, so we had timed our arrival so we could meet with the riders as they turned around at Neyland Marina and ride back with them. As it turned out, everyone stopped for refreshments, and then straggled back when they felt ready,so we headed off with the lead party. The ride is about 4 miles with a very slight uphill gradient the whole way, and Jasmine (10) and Dylan (7) were both red-faced and sweating by the time we arrived.

The return is a lovely downhill coast, so I suggested seeing how far along the trail we could go without having to pedal. This slowed the pace nicely. We discovered that the only times we needed to pedal was where the trail crossed roads and we had to slow down to pass through gates.

When we returned to Neyland we took the same route back, though I did offer them the option of the Zigzag as we came past. They preferred to cycle.

Altogether, we probably covered around 14 miles on a Sunday morning.

Please click on the title to take you to my flickr page for some photos of the event.

THE ONGOING SAGA OF THE WHEEL

Realising I hadn't heard back from the bikeshop regarding the damaged rear wheel, I spoke to them today to be told that Madison have "credited" me with a rear wheel, as they accept that the wheel should not be in that condition, but they do not actually have a replacement wheel for me! (They're one of the UK's major cycling wholesalers, and they don't have any wheels???)

The shop are happy to build me a new wheel, with better components, but it's not going to look anything like the front wheel. I don't much like the wheels anyway, the spokes are very difficult to adjust, being aeroblade spokes (flattened so as to be aerodynamic). So, they've ordered the parts for a new wheel. We'll see how long this bit takes. I shall also endeavour to get the old wheel back so I can reclaim the brand new freehub body I put on it.

TECHNICAL PROBLEMS FURTHERED...

Turns out it was the rim on my rear wheel splitting in 2... cracks were spreading laterally from the spoke eyelets. I took the wheel back to Bierspool Cycles, where I bought it around a year ago. They sent it back to Madison, the suppliers, but they haven't returned it yet. Bierspool did "lend" me a wheel, with which to do my Big Ride (more later); the wheel they "lent" me was the old wheel I'd left with them when I'd bought the current set. The bearings had completely gone. They'd since put a new axle and bearings in, but as predicted, there was a lot of wear on the hub races, and the axle worked itself loose during the second day of riding. It got me there and back, which is what mattered.

A BAD DAY

Today was to be a day of cycling and fishing - cycling leisurely around in the morning sun, then meeting up with a friend later for my first ever fishing lesson, only it didn't quite turn out that way. My cycling mitts went missing. A small thing, you might think, but no. I have two functioning pairs and either one would do, but only one mitt was found. Our house is so small, so chaotic, that finding something like a fingerless glove goes well beyond needle-in-haystack territory. I was seriously pissed off. Voices were raised, and not just mine. There was no way I was even going to attempt any serious distance without padding on my ulnar nerves - I suffer badly with wrist pain and pins-and-needles at the best of times, so that got cancelled in a fit of fury, and I almost cancelled the fishing trip when I found I couldn't get a lift, but thought better of it, and cycled the 10 or so miles to meet my friend, who'd gone to the trouble of sorting me out some tackle. It was quite enjoyable, even though we didn't catch anything, and we spent a pleasurable couple of hours clambering around on the cliffs just south of Tenby and learning to cast a line. The rock climbing took its toll on my knees, and left me in quite severe pain by the time I got home, which was a little worrying. I'm still ridiculously stressed by an accumulation of things today, and pray it passes quickly so I can get some sleep.

A TECHNICAL PROBLEM

While in Cardiff, my touring bike started making an intermittent noise, which seemed to emanate from the back wheel. It sounded like a loose cable was dangling against the spokes, and seemed to come and go at random.

As I started to use the mountain bike more, due to the appalling road surfaces, the road bike got hung up in the workshop and the noise was forgotten.

Back in Pembrokeshire, and preparing for my Big Ride, the noise has got steadily worse.

I knew the wheel was slightly out of true due to a large and deep pothole on Newport Road, and as I put that right, I thought I detected something rattling around inside the rim, which might have accounted for the noise. Giving the wheel a good shake with the inner tube removed seemed to have got rid of any foreign objects.

However, even though the wheel in the stand was turning freely and silently, as soon as I got on the bike, the noise was back.

I changed the bearings, even though there was nothing visibly wrong with the old ones. No difference.

As I was putting the wheel back in the frame, I noticed that the cassette wasn't turning as smoothly as it might, which would indicate a problem with the freehub body. In a word, Bugger.

I've ordered a new one from Edinburgh Bicycle Cooperative, (another £27 I don't have) who are great with delivery, but it's still going to take a few vital days, and then there's all the buggering around getting it fitted again. I was tempted to take the freehub body from my XTR hub, but it's just too good to squander.

BIKEOLOGY

I've been hired to do a course on basic bike maintenance at the local school (teaching adults, not children). It's all a bit last minute and farcical. The original idea was to do 6 sessions of 2 hours each, but with the imminent arrival of the Cycling Proficiency Test, this has been hacked down to 3 weeks, which obviously means I'll have to omit such vital lectures as "Does the frame stand on the wheels or do the wheels hang from the frame?"

Given the time-scale, I'll be amazed if anyone turns up. If anyone DOES turn up, they'll have been emotionally blackmailed into coming by the organisers, and will have about as much interest in bike maintenance as I have in Fiscal Policy.

SUSTRANS

Over the past year or so I've become very disenfranchised with Sustrans. While I entirely commend and support what they do, and what they stand for, I don't like the way the Ranger Programme is being managed. Being a Liaison Ranger is a thankless task with few rewards. Not that rewards or recognition are what I'm after.

It seems to me that the vast majority of Sustrans Rangers are completely inactive (other Liaison Rangers corroborate this) yet the Sustrans Volunteer coordinators are loathe to do anything about this, which I personally find disrespectful to the few of us who are actively working for them.

When I moved to Cardiff I was welcomed by the local Liaison Ranger, who was delighted that there was someone else prepared to roll his sleeves up.

Now I've moved back to Pembrokeshire I'm not feeling so enthusiastic.

I'm quite prepared to sit on the sidelines and watch what happens. I'm sure it won't take much of my attention.

REVIVAL

Hello again dear blog.

It's been much longer than I thought, and much has happened.

I have moved away in search of work and a new life for my family, and I have returned, though not quite empty handed.

I was in Cardiff for three months. On my first visit to the Jobcentre, the first job which came up on a jobpoint was a vacancy for a cycle mechanic and hire operator for a local charity, The Pedal Power Project. I knew the job was mine. A month later I started work.

Two months later I had to leave.

Accommodation problems, and domestic unease, meant I had to beat a somewhat hasty retreat to Pembrokeshire. My lovely family are delighted to have me home, but I'm again unemployed with little chance of employment any time soon. To quote the late, great Warren Zevon: "Oh no, these Blues are gonna rub me raw..."

FELLOWSHIP

I made a decision yesterday that I need to get out more (mainly on my bike) so came up with a "brand" of ride that I can promote within (and without) Sustrans - the "Fellowship Ride" - inviting Sustrans Rangers and other people to come along on a short ride (Wednesday evenings) and longer rides (Saturdays). I have mailed this out to the other Rangers and had the usual response from the usual 2 who show enthusiasm. However, I will not be thwarted by the miserable wretches who do not leave their homes for anything other than a free meal! If no-one turns up, I get to do the ride myself anyway, so what do I lose?

UNEMPLOYED?

A musing on the nature of unemployment... it has been around 6 weeks since I did any paid work. I made a claim for Jobseeker's Allowance as soon as I became unemployed, but at my preliminary interview it was clear that my claim would probably be disallowed unless I got a sicknote from my doctor, which I duly did. This resulted in my claim being transferred to one for E.S.A (Employment and Support Allowance) which is a revamped version of Incapacity Benefit. I'm not entirely comfortable with claiming benefit, but my doctor is happy to provide me with sicknotes while we explore what might or might not be wrong with me. I certainly don't like telling people I am unemployed, it is not a status which sits happily with me. While unemployed I am far from idle - my voluntary work with Sustrans continues apace; if anything, with renewed vigour. My church work continues also, though somewhat slower.

When one is employed, there is a sense of belonging, and a sense of status and self-worth which is absent among the unemployed. All you belong to is the dole queue.

I "belong" to the fellowship of my Church. I "belong" to the Sustrans Movement. I "belong" to a Bible Study Group. I "belong" to God.

I do a lot of things, so why then do I feel a sense of shame?

My health conditions do prevent me from working full-time. I can no longer call myself a "writer" or a "poet", having had impenetrable writer's block for over 5 years.

I cannot remember the last time I painted anything. Really.

I don't like to admit that my health is a barrier. I can, with a great deal of preparation and effort, cycle around 60 miles in a single stretch, more than many people can do. I'm usually ill for a while afterwards, but it seems worth the sacrifice at the time, it's a good feeling, especially when done with good friends.

HELLO! HOORAY!

I've decided to rekindle this blog, as things are once more starting to grind me down. Since leaving the bikeshop I have spent some time working for Lidl here in Pembroke Dock as a "caretaker", which is a bit of a misnomer, as all I did was clean, but it was from 6am to 10am, and I actually enjoyed the job, even though it was by far the most soulless place in which I have worked, and staff morale was an alien concept. I left there a couple of months ago after a contretemps with a pompous buffoon of an area manager (my favourite quote was: "It's not a good idea to raise your voice to me, I'm the Area Manager!" Twit.

Since then I've been claiming Employment and Support Allowance, which is the new Incapacity Benefit, while trying (in vain) to get some proper diagnoses of my various illnesses and conditions. This is made more complicated and traumatic with my tried, tested and tame GP due to leave the practice any minute, and there have been discussions with various practice managers, deputy managers, doctors, receptionists, mostly conducted in loud voices to try and resolve the issue of continuity of care.

So, you rejoin me with no real job to speak of, no real "healthcare professional" to tell me what is wrong with me, and in a fairly downtrodden mood.

I am still the Sustrans Volunteer Liaison Ranger for Pembrokeshire, though that is also currently hanging in the balance. I am also quite closely involved with church, and this too is a source of depression and anxiety at the moment, for a variety of reasons.

I am a member of a Bible Study Group which meets weekly. This, surprisingly, is a source of strength and encouragement to me. (I say surprisingly, because when I joined the group 6 months ago I did not expect to form such strong bonds with people so quickly).

BLACKOUT

BACK TO BLACK

Saturday 28th September 2008 was my last day at the bike shop - I don't think anyone was happy with anyone else, and it was best to end it now before any bitterness or recriminations set in. This way we remain friends. I've described it to close friends as being stuck in a malfunctioning submarine with no-one but Jim Davidson and a flatulent Jeanette Krankie for company (and a snoring dog, also immensely flatulent), but this is perhaps doing a disservice to the female half of the Krankies. At best it was claustrophobic, at worst unbearable, and they probably began to feel the same about me. I was often expected to play the role of marriage guidance counsellor, but refused to be drawn into it. I enjoyed the work, but found the hours an immense drain on my time and resources - I'd arrive home at 6ish, have my dinner, fall asleep, and when I woke up the wife and kids would be in bed, and that would be my lot day upon day. Having a day off in the week gave me some luxurious time to myself, but meant I had to sacrifice a family Saturday, which was hard.
I hated dealing with the public, and would go so far as to say I couldn't actually cope with it. I've always been a backroom boy - chef, promoter, call-centre monkey; if the workshop had been separate from the shop I'd have been much happier.
I became so very tired I made stupid mistakes. This is still a worry to me, and I have mentioned this to my doctor, who has re-prescribed antidepressants, which I have started today, so henceforth a couple of weeks of side-effects with no fun attached.
I also experienced a lot of pain in my hands and feet, which we put down to arthritic pain and treated with Cod Liver Oil and Glucosamine, which has made a notable difference to my hands, but not so much to my feet. My hips also have a tendency to seize up when I'm sedentary or prone for lengthy periods.
It's an awkward time to become unemployed as my wife only gets paid for 10 months of the year, so after her paycheck at the end of this week she gets no pay till January. Very convenient for us! Something will turn up.

PARTIALLY SIGHTED

I've had a big problem with Specsavers.
Here's the letter I delivered to the "Director" this morning.
It got me 2 pairs of varifocal lenses considerably upgraded, a free pair of
singlevision reading glasses in �85 frames, and �40 off my original bill.
Worth writing then.

Specsavers,

Dimond Street

Pembroke Dock.Dear Mr ****,

*Re: Complaint about Customer Service.*My complaint begins on 21st June 2008, when I came to the Pembroke Dock
branch of Specsavers with the intention of ordering some new varifocal
spectacles.

I selected frames and went through the ordering process, but I was told it
would not be possible for me to pay a deposit, I would have to pay the full
amount before the specs could be ordered, and that this was company policy.
I was annoyed about this being stated at the end of the process, as it meant
that I had to wait until Thursday 26th June before the order could be sent
off. Prior to my sight test, I had broken my only pair of varifocal glasses,
and the only standby pair I have are an old pair of single vision glasses,
which are fine for distance, but no good whatsoever for close work. However,
it was made very clear to me that full payment had to be made before the
order could be processed, so I arranged to take some time off work the
following Thursday to enable me to come in and place the order.

I was informed at the time that due to the technician being on holiday have
to be sent away to be made up, and would take between a week and ten days to
be delivered to Pembroke Dock.

I explained at the time that I am a cycle mechanic and need glasses for
close vision as well as distance, and that I had had to struggle with single
vision lenses for a week already. I was assured that a note would be put on
the order asking for it to be dispached as soon as possible, though I now
know this was not done.

I was informed of the various offers, and chose to take the 2 for 1 deal,
with my main glasses having slimmer lenses, and the second pair having a
tint.

I paid in cash and was told I would be contacted by phone when my glasses
were ready for collection.

I found my work very difficult, particularly tasks such as trueing wheels
and adjusting brakes, which require constant close vision.

I phoned on Friday 4th July to check whether my spectacles had arrived, and
was told that they would definitely be there by Monday. I do not know to
whom I spoke.

When I phoned today, I spoke to Penny, who seemed surprised that no-one had
phoned me, as there was a note attached to my order saying that the lenses I
had ordered were no longer available. I knew this would mean that no
spectacles were available for collection, and that it would mean a further
delay, and I got quite angry on the phone, which was wrong of me.

Penny explained that there was no point in me coming to the shop as there
was no-one there who was able to do anything, which I thought was a lie, so
I went along to the shop in an attempt to get a resolution, as I had
deliberately organised the day off work, having been assured my glasses
would be ready for collection.

When I discovered that Penny was actually telling the truth about the
complete lack of staff I was utterly disgusted, and demanded that she get
someone like an area manager on the phone.

I was offered a full refund, which I declined, as that would do nothing to
help my predicament.

After some negotiation, we arrived at a temporary solution, whereby they
would make me some near-vision glasses overnight to help in my work while my
new glasses were made. This was far from an ideal solution, but the only
practicable one under the circumstances.

I arranged for my wife to collect them the next day, but as I was cycling
home it occurred to me that something might be done with the lenses from my
old varifocals.

I was told that it probably wouldn't be possible to transfer them to new
frames, as it would involved trimming off the bottom of the lens, but we
agreed it would be worth a try as there was nothing to be lost, and another
Penny agreed to do the work after her lunchbreak.

When I returned later, I discovered that throughout all this, a pair of
glasses for me had been upstairs the whole time; the second pair I had
ordered with the tint.

So, more by accident than design, I finally ended up with a pair of glasses
I can use for work, even though they have a tint which will still make
things difficult. It will be nice to be able to see properly after
struggling for over 3 weeks.

Today has been a far more stressful day than I would choose for a day off.

I feel I am owed at the very least an explanation as to the following
questions:

Why is it essential for a fee to be paid in full before the order can be
processed, when I was willing to leave a sizeable cash deposit?

Why was I sold a set of lenses which are not available?

Why was I assured that the urgency of my situation would be noted on the
order, only for it to be completely ignored?

Why was I told on the telephone that my glasses would definitely be
available for collection today when that was clearly not the case?

Why were a pair of glasses delivered to the store and no-one informed?

Why was there no-one available to deal with my grievances at the time?Of the three people I dealt with today I have nothing but praise. They
handled a very difficult situation very well, and I am delighted with the
service I received from them, but I am disgusted with your managerial
system. That the shop should be left so understaffed is appalling, and I
hope you pass on my compliments to the staff who were there.

I fully intend to post my feelings about this incident online, on my own
blogs, and on sheriffratings.com, which lists Specsavers as a business,
though in the interests of fairness I shall await your response before
posting.I would appreciate a response at your earliest convenience, and I would
also appreciate receipt of my correct glasses as soon as possible, with the
minimum of disruption to my working week.Regards, the hobo

FULL TIME

Today I started full-time, permanent, proper employment at the bike shop. Most of this month has been spent working there, so it seemed the right step to take. The house is sxtill a mess, although most of the hallway, the smallest bedroom and part of my workshop is decorated. I have had little time for anything else, though I have managed to write an article for Sustrans, and an article about Sustrans for the parish magazine. I have also found a few spare hours on a Friday evening to go to the pub and drink beer; a seemingly long forgotten pastime.
It seems this blog is well named - the more involved I become in The World Of Cycling, the happier I get.

CONTINUED

...OK so the big chairs are finally out of the house, but still awaiting collection and disposal, as is the old telly and a few other sticks and bits, and there is more room within the house as a result. Or is there...?
An inflatable gaming chair with speakers and dock for an MP3 has been bought and inflated and is very popular with the children. Unfortunately a bit too small for me.
Kitchen units and a worktop have provided Jasmine with an 8ft desk in her room and replaced her wardrobe.
In moving living room furniture, we uncovered a living breathing growing patch of mould on the living room wall below the window, which necessitated the removal of a large section of wallpaper, and led to the stripping of the whole wall and the removal of the accursed dado rail. This has now progressed along the wall to my workshop/study room (the redecorating, not the mould, which hopefully has been forever banished).
My shed is still full of chipboard panelling, the workshop/study still full of Mrs H's stuff, and bikes have no home at the moment. This is a very inconvenient state of affairs, but not one which can be rushed. The redecorating has to be done before cupboards and shelves can be attached to walls, and the redecorating is what is taking the time. If only I didn't have a job!

T-T-TEMPUS FUGIT

I can't believe how long it is since I last posted on here. It's all been hectic and change and flux and chaos...
I got the job at the bike shop, and have worked every possible hour since. I'm still enjoying it.
We were given a whole suite of kitchen furniture - units, cupboards, worktops etc, which needed to be incorporated into the structure of the house post haste, and this sparked a whole chain reaction of events which has turned the whole house upside down and given it a good shake, so things like springcleaning and redecorating have been high on the domestic agenda. To understand the scale of the operation, you have to understand the sheer cramped chaos of a six-piece family in a 3 bed council house. To move something, you first need somewhere to move it to. Inevitably, to create this space, something else has to be moved somewhere else, and so on ad infinitem, ad nauseam, add it all up and take something away.
What should have been taken away were two enormous armchairs. The size of these beauties cannot be overstated. We bought them from one of Mrs H's work colleagues back in Leicester, and at the time I had an Astra estate, which was pretty good for shifting stuff. The contents of my flat probably took 3 or 4 trips when we moved into the house, but these chairs had to be moved one at a time, so cumbersome was their bulk. So sturdy their build and so comfortable their cushions, that it was a hard choice to get rid of them, but they did take up a great deal of space. Some community police people actually helped get them out of the door, on a day when Frame, the local furniture recycling charity, was supposed to be out and about collecting furniture in the community, only they did not and have still not collected our chairs. (to be continued...)

EVENING STROLLS

The current spell of delightful weather has forced everyone out of doors, and while it means we're plagued with un-neighbourly noise, they have forced us out of our home in the evenings. Last night I dragged everyone out for a walk. As we set off up the hill, both Oliver and Mavis were constantly asking where we were going, obviously puzzled by the fact that we were going out at bedtime. We did a short circular walk which included a play in the park, and we were all better for it. Unfortunately the neighbour noise had not abated in the slightest, nor did it do so until after 9pm.
Tonight I took Jasmine and Dylan (and camera) while tired Olver and Mavis went to bed. We covered the same route and returned about 7.30pm. The neighbours, who had been noticeably and pleasantly silent earlier, were back in full voice, so I decided to take a short bike ride and take some more photos, something I haven't done for what seems like a very long time. It reminded me of all that was good about living here.

AN UNFITTTING END

Our next-door-but-one neighbours are making our lives hell with constant noise. Here is tonight's entry to the Noise Diary I will be sending to the Police, the Council and anyone else who will listen.
"FROM THE MOMENT I ARRIVED HOME FROM WORK AT AROUND 4PM, THERE WAS SHOUTING, SCREAMING AND THE NOISE OF THE TRAMPOLINE. THERE ARE CURRENTLY 6 ADULTS AND 6 CHILDREN OUT THERE, ALL SHOUTING AND YELLING. EVEN WITH THE TELEVISION TURNED UP UNCOMFORTABLY LOUD WE CANNOT DROWN OUT THIS NOISE, AND WE CANNOT EVEN SIT DOWN TO EAT OUR DINNER IN PEACE. IF WE SO MUCH AS LOOK OUT OF OUR WINDOW WE ARE JEERED AT AND INSULTED. MORE RUBBISH HAS BEEN DUMPED OVER THE BACK OF THEIR FENCE IN THE WOODLAND; WOODEN STAKES LARGE PLASTIC CHILDRENS' TOYS AND A TRASHED COMPOSTING BIN NOW GRACE OUR VIEW. AT 6PM WE WENT FOR A WALK AS WE COULDN'T STAND ANY MORE BUT HAD TO RETURN AT 7PM AS THE 3 YEAR OLD TWINS WERE READY TO GO TO BED. THE NOISE IS NOW WORSE THAN IT WAS EARLIER, AND THERE ARE MORE PEOPLE IN THE GARDEN. IT WOULD BE POINTLESS TO COMPLAIN DIRECTLY AS THE ADULTS ARE ALL DRINKING HEAVILY. 20:15 I HAVE BEEN WEARING HEADPHONES FOR THE PAST HOUR TO BLOCK OUT THE NOISE, WHICH CONTINUES JUST AS LOUDLY AS BEFORE. CHILDREN ARE NOW GOING INTO THE TREES AT THE BACK OF OUR GARDEN, AND THEIR YORKSHIRE TERRIERS ARE YAPPING CONSTANTLY."

MONDAY CONFUSION

After an unexpectedly hectic weekend assembling kitchen units, dissembling wardrobes and generally turning the house upside down, I awoke on Monday morning with a sore throat and numerous aches and pains, all of which called out for the soothing balm of a painkiller. Tramadol in the evening is a very effective way of attaining comfort, and then sleep, but in the morning it is the quickest route to baffledom and fuzzytown that I know of.
I knew I needed to establish the time and date of my appointment with my surgeon, and spent a fruitless half hour searching for the appointment letter, before deciding to phone work and tell them I would be a little late. The letter would not be found, so I phoned the hospital to discover that my appointment was booked for today at 11am! Fortunately, it was at the local hospital, a short bikeride away. My intention had been to cancel the appointment, but I was obviously too late for this, so I decided I may as well see the surgeon, even though the problems I had encountered six months ago were long gone.
The surgeon was delighted with my progress, and told me to continue to live as normal, with no fear of the hernias returning.

After my appointment I rode over to work, and had a pleasant afternoon trueing wheels and adjusting brakes.

We discussed the week, and I explained my commitments, and there was no hassle. My work-life balance is restored, I am a happy man.

BUSY SATURDAY

Having worked at the bike shop again on Friday, I decided that Friday night was as good a time as any celebrate recent events, and we arranged a babysitter, and went to our local pub for a few beers and games of pool, which was very pleasant. We got home around midnight to find Jasmine and Dylan still up watching the Simpsons. We packed them off to bed quite easily, and went to bed ourselves. I woke around 6am with the current cough in full spate, and couldn't get back to sleep, so got up.
I was asked later if I could assist with the moving of some kitchen units we'd been given a while ago. This involved getting them out of a lockup garage a few streets away, loading them into a trailer and unloading them into our front "garden". It took two trips and the result overspilled into the street, constructed cupboards, doors, panels, shelves, and an 8' by 2'6" worktop, so hardly a stroll in the park, but I managed it with no worrying twinges. I managed to blag a decent electric screwdriver out of it, to make the job easier, not all effort was in vain. The day then consisted of emptying the shed into the living room, filling up the shed with stuff from the garden, emptying the living room into the garden in order to have somewhere to eat dinner, then making sure everything was inside that needed to be, before retiring to bed at around 7.30pm, knackered but glorious.
The reason I'm describing this in such detail is that it is probably the most strenuous and hectic day I've had in a very long time, and it did me no harm. I'm aching now, but with the honest ache of hard physical work, nothing sinister, which leads me to the conclusion that it is the three years of almost constant inactivity sitting at a civil service desk which has been the source of most of my woes; physical, mental, spiritual. If I sit down for too long, I seize up, particularly around my hips. If I stay active, I don't.
Some of the cupboards have been installed beneath the stairs, some will go in my shed, and some will replace the delapidated wardrobe in the kids' bedroom. The 8' worktop will not fit in my shed, but will fit in the kids' room, so no need to carve it up, and I can use a shorter piece as a workbench in the shed.
Tomorrow's work is mapped out. As is Monday's, back at the bike shop.

NEW JOB

Today I started work at the bike shop. I have mostly been fitting new brake and gear cables, fixing punctures, fitting new chains etc, and it has been marvellous. I couldn't get enough of it, didn't want to stop for lunch, got my hands good and dirty (for once the dirt beneath my fingernails was not from the keys of a computer keyboard), and am glad to be going back tomorrow. I was born to do this. I ache everywhere, but don't care.

THE LETTER

Hi J***, Hi A***,
Thank you for accepting my resignation, as indicated in my email yesterday.
Obviously it is not a decision I have taken lightly.
Firstly, I would like to thank you both for all the help and support you have given me during what has been a very difficult time for me and my family, and I hope neither of you feels let down by my decision. I would also like to thank the team for being a good bunch to work with and for their help and support when I tried to return to work on a part-time basis.
The reasons for my resignation are fairly obvious, but I would like to clarify them, in the hope that my views might be of help in the future.
I have felt throughout the whole course of my complaint against Mike Kelly that the management position has favoured his side, and deep down I fully expected that the decision would go against me from the start. The stress of the whole situation has had a very detrimental effect on my health and family life, and I do not feel that this has received any consideration beyond the contact centre, where I am just another number shouting over the barricades. I feel that DWP as a whole both ignores and accepts bullying and harassment as a part of working life, and so is prepared to do nothing about it. I am also disgusted with how PCS union has handled the situation, and cancelled my subscription some time ago, but I know this is not your business directly.
My decision came when I decided that whatever principle was at stake, it was not worth pursuing if it would be detrimental to my health, and I felt that if I returned to work I would be victimised by other union representatives and other members of my team, in particular Mitch Rushton, who made a spectacularly incomplete and inaccurate witness statement, which the investigators obviously decided was better than having no witnesses at all.
I feel that, whatever guidance and procedure states, I would be stigmatised for making a complaint, and I would not receive any support from the union as the complaint was against one of their officers, and this makes my position in the Contact Centre completely untenable.

regards
Jim

A FREE MAN

A while ago now I dropped a hint at the local bike shop that I would be interested in replacing their lost mechanic, who had gone off to deliver tellies. At the time Mike said that he thought he was "sorted", and I left it hanging.
He has just phoned me today to ask if I could do some repair work for him on a casual basis, so I'm going in tomorrow to see how we get on. I'm sure all will be well. It feels right.

A FREE MAN?

I have resigned. In high dudgeon.
Yesterday's meeting was a far worse travesty than I was capable of imagining, full of "the procedure doesn't allow..." and "if it was within the timescale..." and "you're fucking joking!" and "this is outfuckingrageous". I did try to curtail my outbursts, but it was an uphill task, and this Bozo was paid to come all the way from Newcastle to tell me what he'd already decided, which could have easily been done by email.
When I came out of the meeting, I had a small and restrained rant at John, my direct manager, about which I felt terrible, as he is such a nice bloke, but he needed to hear it.
So, free from the restraints of being a Civil Servant (God how I loathe and despise that job title) I can now state quite loudly and not-so-proudly that the Department of Work and Pensions supports and condones Harassment and Bullying in the workplace. It doesn't just turn a blind eye, it is fully aware of what is going on and is happy to do absolutely fuck all about it. Let's face it, the whole Department is nothing but one big corporate bully, so why should it differ in attitude towards its staff? I despise the entire system and every bastard who administers it.
PCS Union is equally guilty. Racism, discrimination, bigotry, bullying and harassment are rife in its ranks, all the way to the top. I was summoned to Leeds for my allegations to be heard - how could I expect a fair hearing when I was interviewed by a very loud, obnoxious and obvious bully? (I'm referring here to Jane Aitchison. I think names should be named.)
I have just been phoned by my line manager, to ask whether my email, which said "I have no option but to tender my resignation" should be taken as notice of resignation, or would I be putting it in a letter.
I think a letter would be appropriate, under the circumstances.

THE WHEELS OF INDUSTRY

Today, I am finally having my appeal heard in my Bullying and Harassment case. This has been dragging on from November '07. It has contributed greatly to my current state of health. It is causing arguments at home. I am thoroughly disgusted with every step of the "procedure", and it seems to me that the time taken has only served to give Mike Kelly a chance to organise his defence. I intend to make my feelings as plain as possible, before telling them where they can stick their job. I still feel like he has "won", and that the system is set up to allow him to do so, but I'm not prepared to go much further with this. My belief in "justice" is already threadbare, so why not just throw out the carpet? If I "let it go", what then? Will I be able to "move on" (how I hate this contemporary jargon! I'm sure you "hear what I'm saying".)
Now I'm starting to get back to fitness, I should start to feel better within myself, but it just doesn't seem to be happening. I feel a complete lack of support from my wife, which merely fuels the paranoia. So, where now?

TO SEE OURSEL'S AS OTHERS SEE US

In church this morning I found myself being discussed by a couple of the older women. First I was asked if I'd seen myself in the paper, something to do with taking part in a big cleanup operation. The other then commented on this "Mystery Cyclist" who kept whizzing past her house. She then went on to comment on how different I appear now to a few months ago when I couldn't walk without the aid of a stick, and that brought me up short.
On Thurdsday, I cycled 10 miles or so up the main trunk road to Stepaside to take part in a working day for Sustrans, tidying up the borders of a new cycle and foot path, which was reasonably heavy work, and then we cycled back again along the Ridgeway, so about 25 miles cycling in total (on my newly rebuilt road bike, so a much faster pace than usual).
On Friday I cycled to Haverfordwest and back early in the morning to buy cheap cycling clothes from Aldi; another 22 miles. In the afternoon I did more cycling around town, this time on my MTB, with panniers full of shopping/compost etc.
Looking back, I was probably walking with a stick until the end of November 2007. I think I can now view my progress in a different light.

A NEW DAY

It's the Monday Morning after a really crap weekend, most of which I can't remember. The main incident was on Saturday Night and completely eclipsed everything else which might have been good about the weekend. The Noisy Neighbours came round to abuse and threaten me again, this time charging me with taking photos of their children. They simply will not accept that their children and their friends are liars (even though they encourage them to lie, steal and cheat at every opportunity). The father was nearest the door, but still at some distance, and did most of the talking, threatening me with allsorts, including the police, to which I agreed. His wife was at the gate, surrounded by a gang of kids, mostly teenagers, and when he got nowhere, she started hurling the abuse, whereupon I shut the door on them and called the police myself. Within minutes the whole family was dispersed, presumably collecting alibis.
Two Community Support Officers attended within about 10 minutes, and promised to look into the problem. I phoned again yesterday as I had heard nothing back, and spoke to the older officer, who said "As you've sent a report of this to your local councillor, we're just going to treat this as a neighbour disagreement, which is nothing to do with us".
At this I went ballistic. Within an hour two "proper coppers" came to the house, and I filled them in with what had happened, whereupon they said they would speak to the neighbours.
Since then I've had abuse shouted at me by strangers in the street, but nothing physical has happened as yet, though I get the feeling it will.
As a family we are sick of this. We have no privacy, no peace and quiet, no quality of life to speak of. On Saturday, my wife was in the garden with our children, and had to put up with continued abuse shouted across and things thrown at them. Their behaviour is disgusting.
Our Councillor has taken our side in this and has forwarded emails on to the Housing Officer, though I fully expect he will take as much action as usual, i.e. none at all. I'd like us to be moved away completely, but most of the areas to which we could move are probably a lot worse, so it would be a leap from the frying pan.

A QUIET TUESDAY

Things have had a touch of the hectic about them of late. (i.e. I've had stuff to do!), and this week is no exception, but today is a day with no appointments in the diary, nowhere to go, no-one to see. Of course there is the usual stuff that needs to be done, but I'm not yet sure that I can be bothered to do any of it.
Instead of my leather office chair, which seems to give me instant backache, I am sitting on an exercise ball, hoping to improve posture and benefit my core muscles while "doing nothing". Well, it's a start.
It's 9.30am, and I have yet to be startled by the yapping of Yorkshire terriers from next-door-but-one. It usually starts around now, and then I have to drown it out with the radio. Last night as we were putting our children to bed, one of their children was in their garden, attacking his little brother's sit-on tractor with a saw and a hammer. At one point it looked like he might saw himself in half. It serves to illustrate how little his mother cares for his welfare - she must have known what he was up to from the amount of noise he was making, but not once did she come out to check that he was OK. While he was doing this, one of her precious Yorkshire terriers escaped from the front of the house. I watched as she went out and tried to lure the yapping bastard back in, and when she failed to do so after 2 minutes, she went back in and simply left it there, which is the same approach she takes with her children. They are also actively encouraged to lie, cheat and steal. Words fail me. I hate being anywhere near these people.
On Sunday I took Jasmine along to a local Jiu-Jitsu class, on the recommendation of a friend. I was worried that she might find it too intimidating, as she's a bit of a shrinking violet at times, but she got stuck in like a good 'un. Actually, I found the violence a bit overwhelming, but I wasn't there for my benefit. She seemed to enjoy it, and declared an interest in going regularly. I can also take Dylan, as they accept children from the age of 5, so next week I shall take them both, and see how they fare. On one hand, I'm a bit uneasy about exposing them to such violence at such a young age, but I'm also uneasy about exposing them to our neighbours on a daily basis. They have been bullied once, and doing this might ensure they can stand up to any bullying they come up against, which I never could.
9:45, and right on cue, out come the dogs.
To balance things, I went and bought 2 descant recorders yesterday, along with the tutorial the schools use, so I can give Jasmine recorder lessons. The deal is that if she does well at it we can get a saxophone. I think I want one more than she does, but so what? I'd like us all to be able to play music together, and recorders seems to be the way to go, to begin with. Although I had not blown one in anger since schooldays, I was straight back in there, no messing! I now need some "proper" music to play, so I can practice up while Jasmine is at school and stay ahead of the game, as I know what a fast and eager learner she is!

ENTHUSIASM

In my capacity as Sustrans Liaison Ranger, I have just had a meeting with one of the head teachers at the local school regarding the children doing regular litterpicks along a section of the National Cycle Network.
It was an excellent meeting, very positive, and everything came together instantly. Why can't everything be this way? And why can't I get paid for doing this wonderful job?

INJURIES

At times, I can forget my hernia operation as though it had never happened. Then it kicks me in the nads again. Walking on Saturday was quite problematic - after four miles I was all but seized up with random stabbing pain in my whole groin area. Mildly worrying, but it did pass, so I'll put that down to recent inactivity and general stiffness.
My shoulder, having been firmly dealt with by a proper physiotherapist, is better than it was, in that it is no longer waking me up at 5am in agony, but it's still not right. I can produce pins and needles down my arm simply by tilting my head back, and get rid of them by nodding forwards.
My left wrist aches far more than it used to. (This is the one I broke clean across when I was 17). I suspect the two things are connected.

A F HARROLD IN CARDIGAN

Last Thursday I made my way over to Cardigan to see A F Harrold at the Word Up! Poetry Night, (first Thursday of every month, at the Castle Cafe, Cardigan) and to spend some time with my friends Sue and Dai. It was the first time I'd been there since standing down as Chairman, and it was nice to have no pressure to do anything. Simone has well and truly taken over and is rapidly making the night a part of her "Empire" - she's booking poets to perform, putting them up at her place (some massive country pile by all accounts) then getting them to give a writer's workshop the following day (I presume she also gets mucho funding for this...) and I'm glad to be out of it.
However, I digress.
A F Harrold is a name I have heard often over the years, and one with a big reputation attached to it, so I took along some high expectations.
He was younger than I'd thought he'd be; the same age as my wife.
He was one of those rare people with whom I could just sit down and start rapping. We talked incessantly until the start of the proceedings. I bought all 3 of his books. At a discount. I now need to send him one of mine.
His very first poem had me in hysterics. I don't think this has ever happened before. He was an awesome performer, one of the best I have ever seen. There were hints of Hegleyism in his delivery at times, but I'm sure they could be slapped out of him given the chance. His material pisses all over Hegley's. (No offence intended John, I think I remember a poem of yours I enjoyed once, or it could have been Simon Armitage.)
The night was pretty much a blur - I hardly ever drink these days, but I had an old-fashioned thirst on, and a few too many pints were drank, judging by the axe-wound to my skull the following morning. I'd also smoked more than enough weed, but I don't think I behaved too badly, considering.
I'm now perusing the books at my leisure. The poems to his father are very moving indeed. I like the mixture of light and dark in his act. Just like mine used to be.

KINESIOLOGY

After two sessions of Bowens Technique, my shoulder was as bad as when I started, and I was £60 worse off. I phoned the therapist, who said we might try a session of Kinesiology, which I was happy to go along with, even though it cost a further £20.
The session involved myself and two women, my regular therapist, and her colleague.
We sat in a semi-circle, and one of them held onto me, either my arm, my shoulder, or sometimes the top of my head, while I held various phials in my right hand. The one holding onto me then held out their left arm level with their shoulder, and the other applied pressure to the top of their hand. Depending on whether the arm gave resistance or flopped down, a decision was made. This went on for around 30 minutes, during which time I was requested not to let my mind wander and to "stay in the room". I held onto a variety of phials, sometimes two together, while they mumbled and wrote down various indecipherable notes. At the end of it all it was "revealed" that I was low in zinc, which was hampering my recovery, and I was "prescribed" two tablets of zinc a day (which were conveniently sold in the downstairs health-food shop). It has made absolutely no difference, I have forgotten about taking the zinc, and while I wouldn't go so far as to say the whole thing is a con, I don't have much confidence in it. I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anybody.
Fortunately, I had an excellent physiotherapist recommended to me, who seems to have sorted everything out. Phew.

LONG TIME NO SEE

I didn't realise it had been quite so long since my last post, but it has been impossible to keep a daily blog during the easter holidays. There is a lot to catch up on now the children and wife are all back at school. My shoulder has improved dramatically after a visit to a recommended physiotherapist, Gavin McCoy of Haverfordwest, who got straight to the root of the problem, a few misaligned vertebrae in the middle of my back. I'm still not 100%, but there was a marked improvement the day after seeing him, and he has given me a couple of "exercises" (which involve lying down) which should sort the rest out. I also had a session of Kinesiology with my Bowens therapist and her colleague (more about that in a separate blog), but I don't think that had any effect.
I am still employed, but for how much longer I have no idea. There was mention at the last meeting of all the absence I had from last year, so they're obviously counting the days, at last. I look forward to being set free soon. I have lodged an appeal against the disgusting decision of my complaint of harrassment and bullying, and am once more playing the ridiculous waiting game that follows any such action. Thinking about it makes me mad and makes me paranoid, so I won't discuss that any further just yet.
Last week I went back to Cardigan for a Word Up! Poetry night featuring A F Harrold - again, more about that in a separate blog when I get time.
I have taken up the knitting needles again after a long lay-off and am currently learning how to cable. More about that on my knitting blog.
I now have the information I need to get on with some Celtic Knot Design - more about that on a separate blog too.
Medically, things are pretty much as they were - I'm still vastly overweight - currently hovering around the 14.5 stone mark. I was 15 stone a few weeks ago so there is slight improvement, but obviously the shoulder injury has prevented any serious exercise, though I have managed to up the mileage I've been cycling recently. I'm still unhappy about my energy levels.
My medication regime is quite stripped down, I'm currently taking Omeprazole to regulate my stomach acid, still on the antidepressant Cipralex, though I'm not convinced it's actually doing anything, and I have been taking Tramadol for my shoulder, but there is little need for that at the moment. Abdominal pain is still there, but tolerable most of the time. Hernia pain seems to be on the wane, but I don't think it will completely disappear.
I now need to give my Road Bike a complete service after the winter, and get it race ready again. I need a new bottom bracket, and then I'd like to change the gearing, perhaps by putting a compact chainset on, which seems the easiest option. I shall discuss this at the bikeshop sometime this week.

STATIC

Today I am trying out a new Tens machine on my shoulder - while the tickling of the electrical current is distracting for a while, that's all it seems to do. I really am getting worried about my shoulder - I've never experienced such lingering and intense pain as this before.
Shelagh is back from her holiday in the USA, and has been in touch with Ted about Jim's camera collection, so I am now waiting for Ted to let me know when he is able to bring the stuff over here.
While this is a positive thing in itself, it feels like something ending.

THE RESULT

I received today the result of the findings of the investigation into my complaint at work. I am not happy. Enough said. For now.

HELLO SENSELESSNESS MY OLD FRIEND

Last night was a bad one - I had diarrhea so bad that I was expelling nothing but water, the acid in my stomach was boiling up almost into my mouth, and my shoulder slowly got worse and worse. A li'l cannabis helped me sleep for a few hours, but this morning I was struggling, to say the least. I phoned the doctor's, then while waiting for a call back, I phoned my Bowens Practitioner to cancel today's appointment, and explained that I would call back after seeing my GP.
Imodium and Tramadol were quickly issued - that man needs a holiday. He can't wait to get people out of his office (or is it me?). He also advised keeping my arm in a sling for a few hours each day. I'll give it a try.
As it turns out I needn't have cancelled my appointment with my therapist as I was in and out of the surgery well in time to get the train to Narberth, but she is only contactable on her home phone, so I couldn't rearrange, which is typical.
Tramadol do sort out any pain issues, but at a price. I can't think clearly, and I'm not supposed to be cycling while "under the influence", but the pain is so acute at the moment that I'll forgo those privileges. I've decided that my bikes can have long-overdue services anyway, and clarity of thought isn't really necessary for those jobs.
I don't like the paralysis that imodium imposes on the bowel, it feels completely unnatural, but it is a necessity at the moment.

A WEIGHTY MATTER

I have put quite a bit of weight on recently, and clocked in at a hefty and depressing 15 stone a couple of weeks ago, which I found shocking.
There are numerous factors involved - the bilateral hernia operation in August last year left me with limited mobility for about 3 months, then there was Christmas. After that there was a change in antidepressants which my doctor thinks might be responsible for some of the gain in weight. Underpinning all that is the fact that I gave up smoking on 25th April 2007, so I have been eating more than I used to.
But I'm not here to make excuses. I weighed myself today and clocked in at 14.5 stone, so a slight loss in weight since last time, probably due to the current diarrhea brought on with the anti-inflammatories.
So, at 15 stone I consider myself to be a minimum of 3 stone overweight. I hate how I feel physically, so it's now time to do something about it, with spring just around the corner.

LINGERING PAIN

My shoulder is still in agony, three weeks after the original accident, if that is what caused it. I have had two sessions of Bowens Therapy, and have a third session booked for this Friday, though I'm unconvinced it will make any difference. I have been taking strong painkillers a few times a day, diclofenac as an anti-inflammatory, and smoking a little cannabis (purely for medicinal reasons of course), but to no effect, which is very worrying.
I saw my doctor yesterday, who checked the mobility of the shoulder, which is fine - it's only when I'm immobile that the pain is at its worst. He prescribed a stronger anti-inflammatory, "Mobic" or "Meloxicam" - 7.5mg daily.
They have had precisely no effect at all so far other than to give me dreadful diarrhea which means I dare not stray further than a few feet from the nearest toilet. I'll cope with that if they work, but again, I'm not hopeful, even though this is only the second day. I can double the dose if necessary.
It's worrying for a couple of reasons - one is that, like the operation, the recovery time seems disproportionately long. The other is that nothing seems to be working on it.
There is an advert on Welsh TV at the moment which says "Don't take back pain lying down", and encourages people with backache to exercise. I'M EXERCISING! The website is www.welshbacks.co.uk and is a complete waste of time.

IN THE BLEARISOME BLUR

I have been suffering for two weeks now with a very painful shoulder after tumbling off my bike. The doctor prescribed low dosage valium and ibuprofen for a week, which frankly have had no effect. I went for a session of BOWEN'S TECHNIQUE last Friday, which felt good at the time, but left me in complete agony over the weekend, which probably wasn't helped by travelling by train to Cardiff on Saturday for a Sustrans Ranger Day, but it was something I felt I needed to attend, and I'm glad I did.
Since the prescription ran out I've been using up my old stock of Co-Dydramol and Diclofenac, and the pain does seem to be abating slightly. I have a second session of Bowens booked for Friday, and see no point in seeing my doctor before then.
I find that keeping myself active helps (don't take backache lying down!) and to this end I have done a checking ride on my "patch" of NCN Route 4, which runs between Pembroke Dock and St Florence. I also cycled on into Tenby to see if I could follow the signs through Kiln Park into Tenby, which is the official route, and (to my surprise) I managed it.
In the end it was a round trip of 29 miles - I took it easy and had plenty of stops to check signs etc.
Since the Ranger Day I've been asked to write a piece on the Brunel Cycle Trail and supply a few photos, for the Hub, a magazine circulated by Sustrans, which I'm delighted to accept.

THE PAIN OF MONDAYS

I'm in agony with my left shoulder today. I fell off my bike on 20th Feb, and the pain has been growing steadily ever since. I'm making an appointment for Bowens Therapy, and I'm going to see my doctor today if possible. I cannot get comfortable at all, and no amount of stretching and flexing seems to make any difference.

IT'S THURSDAY

and a lacklustre day, weatherwise. Neither cold nor hot, completely overcast. I have cycled round town a couple of times on various shopsearches, but I'm finding the supermarkets stressful, particularly Tesco, which is currently undergoing a refit, and is pretty chaotic. It's much bigger than it was, but one wonders what they are filling the empty space with - there seems to be a much larger selection of toiletries and not much else.
Woolworths is as cramped as always, but the staff are always friendly there, which helps.
Asda is horrible, full stop. I'm missing Lidl, which is closed for a month for expansion.
My left shoulder is hurting more than it was, probably due to yesterday's tumble, but if that's the only injury I'm happy with that.

MR TUMBLE

I fell off my bike yesterday. In broad daylight. In front of the house. Quite spectacularly, in slow motion (or at least it felt like it). I was riding fairly slowly, coming up the ramp onto the walkway in front of our row of houses, where I have to do a quite tight U-turn, and somehow my bike stopped dead in the middle of the turn and just keeled over. I tried to grab the railings but my hand went straight through, as I continued to move forwards, so my arm got twisted, my head collided with the railings just above my right temple, my knees and shins took a bit of a battering and my already aching shoulder is now ten times worse. The bike, which landed on top of me, is OK. I blame the new wheels, naturally. There is no room for human error, not on my bike.
I was annoyed by a variety of things - I had been to the surgery to collect a repeat prescription (which was a day late), and at the same time order a duplicate sicknote for the one I'd lost. The receptionist was very snotty about it; "You lost it? Well, all I can do is ask the doctor if he would mind providing another, and it will be ready in, er, a day or so..." I almost expected a lecture on being more careful in future, and perhaps a few hundred lines to ensure it's not going to happen again. I did try to point out that had the doctor managed to sign the damn sicknote in the first place then none of this would have happened, but she was strictly old-school, and completely imperturbable.
The front wheel was jammed after the accident, but it had simply shifted slightly and wedged a brakeblock against the tyre; easily sorted this morning.
I'm (quite literally) painfully aware that my reflexes are not what they were; even if they are, I sometimes cannot perform the actions they require. Had I been able to shift my balance slightly in the opposite direction, I might have easily avoided the fall, but all I could do was sit there and feel myself go. Not a nice feeling.

NEW MORNINGS

I'm trying to get the hang of mornings. They're not something I've had much truck with over the years, and in fact during my tenure at the Attik, they ceased to exist completely. At the moment I'm getting up somewhere between Seven and Eight am. Jasmine and Dylan, the older two, go off to school around 8am for Breakfast Club, so it helps matters if I can be awake enough to supervise the twins while Angie takes them, then comes back. The alternative is for her to take them all, then go to the park with the twins till they're allowed in school at 8.50, and at the moment it's just too cold to do that.
It's an intense time. The kids are excited and hyper, Angie is usally storming round swearing under her breath for no reason or shouting at the top of her voice, and I'm trying to wake up gently.
Once they've gone it's a big relief, and I like to check my emails over breakfast.
I've started getting back into the breadmaking routine, so first thing is to sort out the dough for the day. I'm buying a food processor this weekend which will speed the process up slightly, and a large breadbin for storage.
At the moment, stews and casseroles are favourite for dinner, so I like to get those ready and in the oven before lunchtime, which leaves me free until 3pm. I like to listen to Radio 6 Music in the kitchen, as they play some good music, but the presenters are starting to grate on my nerves somewhat.

The kids are back at school today after half-term. It's nice to have the house to myself, but it was a good holiday, all in all, with Dylan in particular doing lots of cycling, and all of us doing lots of walking.
I've had a visit from a manager, which will now be a monthly occurrence. My sicknote is unsigned by my doctor, which I noticed last week, but I thought I'd wait to see if they noticed.
The weather is excellent - bright sunshine, but very cold.
Medicinally, I'm up to full dosage on the antidepressant (Cipralex), and down to one Merbentyl a day. I'm unconvinced about the cipralex, but I'll give it time to prove me wrong if it can.

NEWS AT LAST

Today I finally received a letter from the sister of a close friend who passed away last summer. I went to the funeral in Leicester, which meant spending three days there, and actually had quite a nice time.
At the wake there was talk of a memorial gig for Jim, which I knew I would not be attending. It was all a bit of an emotional roller-coaster, and I felt quite isolated out here when it was all over.
I can appreciate the difficulty she had, with so much to do besides grieving, but I was waiting to hear what had been decided about Jim's collection of cameras, as I had volunteered to take them if no-one in the family wanted to do so. As time went on I convinced myself that someone somewhere had raised an objection (why on earth would they?), but didn't feel able to ask about them. I had already asked Ted if he'd be happy to bring them over here in the event, and he agreed readily.
I had sent and received a few supportive texts around New Year and the time of the gig, and she had said she would write.
Coincidentally (or was it?) Ted and I were just opening a dialogue on him coming to Pembrokeshire when the letter arrived, saying that the cameras were being looked after until a transportation solution could be sought (and that I could have one of his shirts if I wanted). The letter was quite emotional, and contained a poem written by Jim's father - very moving indeed.
She and her partner are currently holidaying in the USA, and who can blame them. This gives me time to compose a reply for their return.
It's all good, in a way.

SUNDAY MORNING KILLING THE BLUES

Two children have gone to church with their mother. The remaining two are currently playing rather noisily in the bath. All together they would have been unmanageable in church, and I didn't really feel like going anyway.
On Friday I had the older two while wife went to work and twins went to childminder. We'd decided we'd go cycling, and went up to the park, where we rode around and did a few manoevres, then we rode up the cyclepath to the top road, which is quite a feat for the young ones. Jasmine was particularly impressive at uphill grinding.
I was delighted with how good they were the whole day, and what delightful company they were the whole time, despite the weather being pretty oppressive.
On Saturday, with glorious sunshine streaming in through every window, we had to go out, and I took three of them to feed the ducks and swans and seagulls at Pembroke Millpond. Another excellent outing.

FOGGY DAY

Very dull. managed again to wake myself earlyish, but getting out of bed was another matter. Good job I did as radio 6 phoned about 9.30 to check that I'd be OK to chat about my requested lost record (Say It Ain't So Joe, by Murray Head) in the afternoon. That kind of set me up for the day and galvanised my thoughts, so I got the shopping and chores done in good time, and sorted out the dough from last night's sponge. Fish and chips for tea tonight.
The radio conversation went on a bit - managed to get in mentions for Richard Hawley and Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, who have excellent CDs out right now, and also the French/Canadian animation Belleville Rendezvous as my favourite "film without stars".
A bit of email banter with Ted in Leicester, which is always good.
Feeling very down-home today. A bit hazy, probably because I remembered to take my medication. Hard to marshall thoughts into coherence.

RAINING ON MY PARADE

The weather finally lured me outside - I decided I'd do the shopping quickly, then see how much time was left before the kids came home, and have a ride to coincide. Only I got a puncture. The second this week. Back tyre again. Bontrager tyres are shit. So, I couldn't go anywhere after all, and ended up just bumbling around the kitchen all afternoon instead of getting lots of that lovely fresh sundrenched air. Arse.

INTRUSION

It was hard to wake up this morning but I managed it, though not at 7.30 when my alarm went off. My intentions were good but I hadn't got to sleep till after 2am.
It's a glorious morning, bright sunshine and no noticeable wind, and I'm hankering to get out on my bike for a good ride. There are things need doing at home but it seems too good an opportunity to miss.
My mood was buoyant until I received an email from work asking how I'm doing, when it plummeted like half a digestive into a mug of coffee. I replied that I'm fine until I think about work, but I doubt they'll get the point. How blatant do I have to be? Ask them to sack me?
They're trying to handle the situation sensitively, but a bull in a china shop would have more grace and finesse.
I started writing last night. It was quite easy, but where I started (The Writers Group) only served to remind me that I've encountered hostility and confrontation just about everywhere since I moved to this God forsaken place; at home with the neighbours (on both sides) - at work, at the writers' group, on public transport, at the pub. I therefore conclude that it has to be me.
Heard from Dave that my friend Patryck died and was buried a week or so ago. Nice of the folks at the pub to let me know. Ah well.

WEEKEND WORK

On Saturday, while the family took the bus to Haverfordwest for some shopping, I went out to photograph the spots along the cyclepath which are in need of attention. It was too cold to linger anywhere, but I got the job done, and was pleased to see so many people using the Brunel Cycle trail, though there were a few too many dogs without leads for my liking. I have sent them off to the council, so my task is complete.
On Sunday we managed to get quite a bit sorted out in the kitchen, which was becoming badly overcrowded, so all in all a fairly useful and productive weekend, though we didn't make it to church on Sunday Morning.
Monday is cold. I woke up and got up about 7.30 am so was able to see the kids before school. I will try and maintain this regime.

COMPETITION WINNER

I remember dreaming I was in pain.
Despite the relative clarity of the sky this morning, I had already decided I was taking the bus to Haverfordwest for my meeting with the Pembrokeshire Horseriding, Walking and Cycling Officer. Having failed to meet him yesterday I was not letting anything get in the way today. Despite harsh temperatures it was a delightfully sunny day. Another good meeting - it's hard to get words in edgewise, the guy is so enthusiastic, but I managed to get a few points across, and the whole thing was amicable and productive.
I had time for a brief shopping spree, and as it was a farmer's market I stocked up on edibles for the weekend, and treated us to a new electric coffee grinder. Thought about getting some new shoes in the Clarks sale, but the ones I liked weren't sufficiently reduced.
Caught the bus back home, and remarkably, both journeys were pleasant and hassle-free.
When I got home there was an email awaiting me from Big Issue North, saying I'd won the photographic competition! (click on the headline to see the winning photograph, subject "New Year Resolutions". I can't even remember what the prize is! It really did give me a boost in every direction. I've committed myself to a few meetings and days out to do with cycling, and haven't given work a second thought. Till now.