A Bicycle Built For Three. Not

 

Tuesday. 

My sore left knee wasn't too bad today but in order to rest it, I planned a family meal that would be simple to prepare and easy to serve. Spaghetti Bolognese, followed by Pear and Ginger Crumble. This must have been a good year for pears because we have had two separate gifts of bags of delicious pears. The second lot, the ones I used on Tuesday did not look like much but they tasted great. There's a story about how they came to be. Our friend Ron bought the tree in Lidl a few years back. He carried it around in the boot of his car for the best part of a year then decided he ought to dispose of it. The pear tree, a mere stick, was propped up at the back of his flat for an entire winter, its root ball wrapped in hessian. He kept meaning to take it to the council dump. Spring came and his wife informed him that the tree was budding blossom. He decided to give it a chance and planted it out. The first year there was hardly a pear to be seen but since then it has cropped well, so much so, that he's giving them to everyone and it is even getting scrumped by well-dressed Englishwomen in silk scarfs and pashminas.

The other thing that happened on Tuesday was I decided to pop down to the village to buy some Ben and Jerrys to go with the crumble. I haven't been driving but reckoned I could manage it. And then as I was climbing into our van something went in my right knee and afterwards, I could barely walk. It's only starting to ease now. Bert and the girls did the ice cream run and I was glad that dinner was all prepared except for the pasta. Zoe sorted that.

Watched The Crown.

Wednesday

I spent most of the day lying on the sofa, reading and resting. Called Kerry Sister to wish her well on her upcoming major surgery.

Watched The Crown.

Thursday

Bert collected Martha and Evie from school. I can walk now but would rather not drive.

Watched The Crown.

Friday

Kerry Sister's big operation. That's what Matty and her sisters would have called it. From five onwards my phone was never out of sight or hearing. The update came from my niece. It had gone well.

Watched The Crown

Saturday

My knee was feeling much better. I even got a few non-essential chores completed. But it is boring not being able to go out, even if it is only to the local shop.

Katy sent us all this picture of Miss Emily in her Ireland supporter's outfit. Very cheering to see even though the game did not go Ireland's way. It was a win-win situation for Emily as she is half English, or is it a quarter English and a quarter Welsh? 

Finished Watching The Crown.

Sunday

Long and tedious day. Clint came round and was tedious about Brexit. Still thinks it is going to be great. Doesn't like Biden. Says he is a Republican. What he means by that is that he fears 46 would support a United Ireland. Personally, I think the new President will have enough to be getting on with in his own country to be troubling himself about us.

Heard that Kerry Sister is taking little walks and hopes to be home in a few days. She has only one episode of The Crown left to watch. As I have none there is only one thing left to do and that is to update Nelly's Garden.

One Gets To Wondering

 ...or, what's it all about?

Martha just wants to do dangerous tricks on Bert's old bicycle. By the way, she informed me that I have a bicycle. I'd forgotten.

Dangerous tricks accomplished, Martha felt it was time she learned to drive Bert's ancient Ford. 

 Bert probably learned on that same tractor himself. You'd hardly know it, but it was in for a recent refurb. There were great plans mooted but Bert settled for a few engine improvements and some new mudguards. All the better to sit on when the latest child learns to drive it. Uncle Joe said, and I quote,

Yes, learn on the wee Ford and when Bert buys a new Fendt she will be up to speed.

It will never happen. Mudguards are as far as Bert goes.

Meanwhile, Evie looks forward to her ninth birthday on the 3rd of November. She only wants one present, or should I say, president.

Bert's Got A Brand New Bicycle

What with Bert being an only child and all I thought he'd have had a new bike before this. But no. Yesterday he got his first new bike bought to him by me. I think he likes it.

I Blame Flann O'Brien

Where have I been? How could I have missed this?

Seems that if it's not on Radio 4 between the hours of 8:30-9am I just don't get to hear about it.

It was Facebook (bless it) that alerted me to this story which I find interesting on several levels.

The first is that it occurred in a hostel and that the cleaners who discovered this man engaged in an act of fornication with his bicycle were "extremely shocked". Psshah! They must have been working in hostels for about five minutes if that shocked them.

Secondly - the hostel manager called the police. Why? What harm was the man doing? Did the bicycle care? I'd say the manager didn't like the cut of the bike-shagger's jib and just wanted him out. You have to wonder, what if Mr Bikeman had been engaged in an act of passion with a blowup doll or a hollowed out pumpkin or Liver a la Portnoy? Would that have been more acceptable? I knew a bloke once who claimed to have shagged a hole in a tree. I wonder where you are now Mr Tony Murray from Antrim town. Last I heard working at the counter in the dole office. Made a change from standing on the other side of it anyway.

Anyways - back to the cycle-rider. It made me think, as I often do,  of the human-bicycle interchange theory expounded in 'The Third Policeman' . Perhaps yerman wanted to speed that process up a bit.