Tuesday

Back to an Ashes breakfast to begin Boxing Day.

With a hangover as well.

Ouch.

BLOODY ouch.


I felt in need of another drink after watching the toil of the England bowling attack.

Anna had other plans. A Bank Holiday bicycle ride had been declared.

OK…

Oh dear

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We did have ambitious plans to head out all the way to Clactonia to see Wivenhoe Town away from home.

But that would have meant a probable defeat, and then the chore of having to cycle all the way back once again.

Bugger that.

And so instead a gentle roll our around the Tendring borders along some quiet Boxing Day lanes.

The road surface was still wet from the midnight storms. This wasn’t a ride to put your foot down taking tight corners.

I was surprised there to see so few other early morning riders out there. Horsey folk out-numbered cyclists.

Horses for courses, etc.

We finished the ride back in Sunny Colch. Our entry back into Britain’s Oldest Recorded took in a back route.

Neither of us had passed this way since our University days back in, ooohhhh, 27 or so years ago.

#SUNNYCOLCH, innit

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Awaiting for me outside the bicycle racks by the Castle was the D-lock that I left behind on Christmas Day.

The head buzz of Park Run meant that I cycled off on Christmas Day leaving a half decent D-lock unattended on the ground.

Twenty four hours later and it was still there waiting for me.

The remainder of Boxing Day then went downhill.

I had plans to brave the Boxing Day sales and bag a pair of black jeans, and then bugger off to the pool.

Job’s a good ‘un, etc.

Three hours later and I was still walking the means streets of CO1 in search of a suitable style.

I seem to be trapped in jean purgatory.

I’m not ready to surrender to a pair of Clarkson style 501’s; at the other end of the scale is the ridiculously skinny fit drainpipes as favoured by young men with silly beards.

I just wanted a pair of black regular fit straight jeans.

It didn’t help that I was trying on trousers and having to remove layers of lycra each time.

A scheduled 3pm work shift back at base put an end to all this nonsense.

I left Colchester jean-less.

Not for the first time, etc.

The work was as quiet as the bicycle ride.

I typed in to the modern interweb the name of my favourite pair of jeans bought four years ago.

Three clicks later and the order had been made.

I am personally KILLING the town centre, etc.

Nigel Watch followed with Burton Albion Vs DIRTY Leeds.


Poor Nigel.

The pattern of work shifts, and then the Liverpool Vs Swansea closed a bit of a disappointing Boxing Day.

Cat up a wisteria

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And here’s the other one

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