Some Sunday morning listening to start the day.
The Londonist Out Loud piece with ex-cycle messenger Jon Day was ACE.
I particularly liked the psychogeographic references to following old London leylines as you cycle downhill and downstream on top of the hidden rivers.
And then Professor Ignorant and his Punch and Judy japes.
Steve Ignorant is an absolute diamond. It is reassuring to see that he is still forging his own anarchic path, using a medium that he is comfortable with in his middle age.
Do they owe us a living?
Etc…
The plan was then for a bicycle ride.
But I bottled it.
The estuary wilds lanes were still wet at 9am. I cleaned the road bike last week. It’s not something that I wanted to repeat later on.
And so a run instead.
Nothing spectacular - once around the University on the usual waddle route. I took it slowly and used it as a head cleaner, rather than an athletic achievement.
The garden was calling. These weekly summer tidy up sessions are becoming shorter. Slowly, slowly the seasonal growth is dying out.
My fingers passed from a sharp bay leaf aroma, to a crisp, fresh mint smell as I chopped away.
The passion fruit is starting to flower once again. It is one of the joys of the early autumn months to see the radiant orange each morning illuminating the garden wall.
I then had some work over luncheon. It was my second shift on a new project with a rather topical client right now.
As ever, process was everything.
The work burst conveniently came to a close just as the estuary wilds tidal timetables caught my attention.
I wheeled the canoe down to the Quay, and drifted up along the Roman River with the incoming tide. It was an effortless paddle, timed to perfection.
I reached Fingringhoe just as the muddy banks were starting to become visible once again. I drifted back to the old Sailing Club hard on the outgoing tide.
It wasn’t so much a canoe expedition, as an exercise in being a piece of estuary driftwood.
You fraud! You faker!
More work, more ska with the Phoenix City All Stars. They have been one of the musical finds of the summer months for me.
I then slipped out in search of sloes.
I was too quick, of course.
Sloes shouldn’t be picked until after the first frost, you fool!
I settled for blackberries instead. The estuary explorations also treated me to the most spectacular flypast by some geese.
Ahh - so it was the same feathered folk whom I had paddled past a few hours earlier in the canoe.
More work back at base, and then la Vuelta and cricket catch ups, and some FaceTime with Anna who is up in the Lakes.
Life is alright, isn’t it?