Why I like cycling (1a)

Same reason, same place. Different evening.

Award

I got an award from DJ Kirkby, and I have to say, it's had a rather cheering effect on me.

Ok, I know that there are countless awards and so on that get passed around from site to site, ranging from the sentimental to the silly to the utterly pointless, but I do appreciate this one. This year has been my least prolific for blogging, both in terms of the upkeep of my own site, and in terms of visiting and commenting on other sites. The net effect of this has, predictably, meant that The trouser Press has been a quieter and less-visited place.

Even so, blogging is still important to me and I wouldn't want to turn away from it completely: I place too much value in the connections I have made (some of which have resulted in firm real-life friendships) to even consider any more than a temporary halt to this activity. Plus, this place (and the ones on my blogroll/following list) has been a real help when things have been difficult.

So the value for me in DJ passing this award on is that it feels warming to know that people are still thinking to drop by and spend a little bit of time here, and to communicate their thoughts (do I win an award for convoluted sentences too, please?). So a sincere thank-you to DJ, and equally big thanks to those who visit.

That's alright, mate

It being the first day of a new decade for me - my fifth (no, that doesn't mean I'm fifty - it's the start of my fifth decade), I wondered what the first words of my forties might actually be.

Silently singing along to Sympathy For The Devil and Jigsaw Puzzle by the Stones - my first activity of the day - doesn't count.

No, the first words I properly uttered were those of the title of this post - to a workman who was standing on the street looking up at scaffolding, and who was momentarily oblivious to the fact that I was trying to get past. When he saw me he apologised, and I said those words.

Regardless of the context, I quite like the fact that they are my opening words of this new decade.

Why I like cycling (1)

Because within minutes, I'm out of the city and I get to be close to stuff like this...
















...and really, that's good enough.

According to an old saying...

...laughter is the best medicine.

At the present time, I have to disagree.

I've been laughing this evening more than I have done in quite a while, thanks to a link that someone sent me via email, and I could really do with some conventional medicine to counteract the effects:

I laughed so hard upon viewing the link the first couple of times that I had a couple of coughing fits.

Then I made the mistake of watching said link a few minutes after I'd eaten my dinner, and - thanks to the cumulative effect from having watched it a couple of times already - I laughed even harder, and nearly threw my dinner up. Since then I've been suffering with indigestion.

I made the mistake of watching it again, which only served to intensify my indigestion and cause another couple of coughing fits. My eyes were stinging thanks to the tears of mirth rolling down, and I also ended up with a mild headache.

Alongside the various potions and medicaments that might thus settle my stomach, calm my headache and ease my poor chest and throat, I'm pretty sure I could also do with a dose of valium - since I can imagine thinking about the cause of all this mirth at an awkward moment, such as being sat on a crowded bus, and finding it hard to suppress yet more mirth.

I'm not exaggerating: I'm tired out.

I wonder if anyone who reads this blog has a similar sense of humour?