Some Bish Bash Bosh with Mr Mule to start off Saturday morning.

I’m not sure why.

It’s been lined up on my New Stuff to play list. Cream rises to the top, etc.

Mr Mule is on an absolute streak right now. It’s almost a new album every six months. No one else is making music like this.

There is probably a very good reason for this…

I made the mistake of fiddling around the back end of Jetpack before I had my Bran Flakes.

The auto publish to Facebook is b0rked on one of my feeds. I arsed around for five minutes, and then thought f-it.

Time spent away from the modern interweb is time well spent.

And then something different for Saturday morning: Rushcliffe Park Run.


This may become a regular route if I manage to persuade Anna that we want to live out the rest of our days back in the Trent End.

Good luck, etc.

It was bloody hot. I made the stupid mistake of wearing a day-glow top.

This is a stupid mistake on any day of the year; but on the hottest day of the year so far it meant that I made friends with the local fly population.


I legged it around the course, more as a means to get rid of the flies than to clock up a PB.

It was a benign route; a couple of mild climbs, but nothing compared to the hills back in the beauty of Brockwell.

The final race time was 21:41″ – one second slower than the previous time I have run Rushcliffe. I was second in my age cat, and 30th out of a field of 390.

Happy with that.

A quick clean up back in Keyworth, and then the rest of Saturday was lost in @surreycricket and work.

And so we are off to HQ once again to see Surrey in a Lord’s final.

Pay to play, etc. Hence the need to pick up the extra work shifts.

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