Album of the Day: Depeche Mode - Violator

I didn’t want to like this. I love poppy Depeche Mode, not dark Depeche Mode. I had written off Violator as being a bit of a downer. It has a bit of both.

Enjoy the Silence is a great piece of electronica. Personal Jesus is still a banger. Uplifting, but also a downer as well.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I had a load of fiddly work admin planning to complete first thing. I needed to confirm my schedule for the next three months. I’ve no idea what I’m doing next week, let alone in three months time.

A new project has meant that I’ve had to revise the availability I had put forward. It was a right pain retrospectively setting when I can and can’t work through until the end of September.

Album of the Day Extra: Brian Eno - Here Come the Warm Jets

This was a little bonkers. The production is all over the place, as you’d expect. There wasn’t much in the way of songs to anchor it all down though. More of an experiment for what was possible than a body of work.

⭐ ⭐

The vibrations amnesty in the house fell through. The unknown, annoying noise returned throughout the morning. I’m convinced that it’s cars rattling something outside.

The bicycle ride to the pool at lunchtime was a little fresher compared to the past few days. A pesky squirrel darted in front of me, almost causing me to fall off along the Trail.

The pool changing rooms were bloody filthy. Black toe jam shit was everywhere. I tried to focus on my technique in the water. I was rewarded with a sub 17 minute time for the 40 lengths.

A solution of sorts was found to the issues I’ve been having with GIMP. My main MacBook Air work mule can’t multi-task when batch editing multiple files in GIMP. I batch edit bloody loads of files. I want to continue with other tasks at the same time.

Simple. I transferred GIMP over to a second MacBook that I rarely use these days. It’s now called the GIMP book. Sometimes tech solutions are the simplest things that aren’t always obvious at first.

The boss man for the builders we had in a couple of months ago returned - at our request. We’ve noticed a number of snagging issues that need to be completed. To my surprise he was understanding.

Surrey ball-by-ball was captivating throughout the day. Wednesday is all set for a major showdown at Canterbury.

I had to head to the Post Office mid-afternoon. Some blustery, bouncing and bloody loud female pushed in front of me with her gypo kid with unruly long hair. I took an instant dislike to her.

It wasn’t so much the lack of queuing etiquette, but it was the SCREECHING of her voice that did my head in in.

“HELLO SWEETIE, YES MY LOVELY, OK BEAUTY.”

She wasn’t talking to her gypo kid with unruly long hair.

Yes, it’s me that’s got the problem, not her.

But STFU, luv.

Term dates for the new school year dropped. I spent a little time changing these across various websites. I’m wishing the days away by adding in the end of the summer term for 2024.

To the kayaks! …on Tuesday evening. High water at 8pm and plenty of light left in the day led to the perfect conditions.

This was the first time we have launched together since storing the kayaks down at the Sailing Club. Carrying them both down over the past decade had led to some serious domestics.

It felt weird being so low down in the water. My default position is now high up in the gig boat. Our club didn’t have any crews launching this evening. Four other gigs were out on the water though.

We pressed on upstream. I thought A would get bored at Rowhedge. We almost made it the University. The tide turned. We let it carry us back downstream and towards the Sailing Club.

Some other fella past us in a wooden kayak and a most odd rowing oar. It looked more like a wooden pole. There paddles at either end were non-existent. He was still shifting a decent amount of water.

Pretty knackered.

An invite for Bluesky to start the working week. How exciting. The medium is the message, etc. Now I need to find some folk to populate my network to make it a platform that adds some value.

I feel like I’ve been here before with Mastodon. It was fun for a few days, but the mass exodus from the Dead Bird never happened. I can’t see Bluesy being any different. First to market, etc.

It seemed quieter working in the front office this morning. I wasn’t sure what was different. And then I realised - the annoying vibration sounds that first appeared a couple of weeks ago seem to have stopped.

I’ve no idea what caused them in the first place. I think it was external, related to car movement outside. I didn’t like to ponder if it was any internal vibrations.

But anyway: annoying house vibrations. Be gone.

Dotty was out far too long. I didn’t see her until 11:30 am. Gawd know what she has been up to, or who she has been with.

The lunchtime swim was average. There was an incredibly slow fella in the fast lane. He wasn’t wearing any goggles. He was swimming with a deep underwater breast stroke. Each time he hit the surface, his eyes grimaced.

The ying to his yang was Snorkel Woman in the adjacent lane. I slotted in somewhere in the middle, with one side of my goggles leaking ever so slightly.

I cycled home. Around ten or so houses from my front door, I saw Dotty in another front garden. I didn’t think she strayed down this far.

At first she didn’t recognise me with my cycling helmet and specs. I called her over, and then the recognition came. I had to lead her back up the road. Dotty is a one.

I struggled for far too long in trying to get the BIMP batch image manipulation working in GIMP. I’m hoping that the latest install will be powerful enough to batch edit the HUGE file sizes that I want to shoot in with the PEN F.

Installing any plugins in GIMP is a right bloody pain. I’m still not there. I’m running an old version of GIMP that has the plugin working. I can’t get the command to appear in the menu for the latest version of GIMP.

I listened to the ball-by-ball for Surrey away at Canterbury. That sounded like a struggle.

We had an early evening wiff waff knock up at the Table of Dreams. It was very different playing at this time, rather than the morning. One end of the table had sunlight shining straight into the line of vision. I walked away with a 4-1 win.

Music was the main entertainment for Monday evening. The new Baxter album, plus Still in the Wheel was a pleasant way to end the day.

An early morning 10km Estuary Wilds Waddle to start Sunday morning. The aim was to beat the heat. By 8am it was already something of a scorcher.

There was high tide around the estuary. I appreciated the shade kindly offered by the trees along the coastal path on the way towards the Creek. The flies that kept on getting stuck to my face can fuck off.

I reached the Creek and clocked a load of teenage girls leaving a van, all kitted out for a serious hike.

Interesting.

The return leg through Alresford was characterised by the smell of bacon cooking. This was the inspiration I needed to get back to base. Bacon is not my breakfast of choice. I was keen for an energy burst from the Bran Flakes.

To the Table of Dreams!

We thought it would be a good idea to get a cheeky game in before the serious heat set in for the day.

A and I both confessed to feeling a little fuzzy. It wasn’t a full on hangover, but it led to a hit and miss game of table tennis.

The conditions were perfect with the air deadly still. I tried to add some spin to my return shots. Some worked, others drifted way off the table.

The hiking teenage girls then rocked up.

Oh.

They had walked all the way from the Creek to the Table of Dreams. I think it was as part of some Duke of Edinburgh scheme. They took shelter under a tree. We had a captive audience, but were both still crap. A was lucky to walk away with a 3-1 win.

I tried to edit some of the photos from the Country Show yesterday. I’m finding it difficult to do a batch run of commands in GIMP when I’m shooting with the PEN F.

I’ve set the file size to maximum. You never know when you’re going to get that call asking if you want to stage an exhibition in some poncey gallery in Mayfair.

Buzzed: Photo feature: a scorching hot day in South London as the 49th Lambeth Country Show at Brockwell Park is staged by a private company for the first time

The issue is that the files are huge. A batch command from 150+ files is too much for GIMP to handle. I’ve reduced the default size that I shoot as as an experiment.

Much of the day was spent on domestic duties. It was too hot to go out and attempt anything else.

Out went the shout of To the Sailing Club! …early evening. I was booked in for a Sunday social row.

We launched and set off downstream. Soon we saw our rival club from the town chasing us down. We had a strong crew, but weren’t in the mood for racing.

Neither was the rival club it seems. A rowing amnesty of sorts settled in as both clubs made the most of the still water for a social rowing pace.

Once again we added in the pause as the oar emerges from the water. It’s only for around half a second. It leads to some extra momentum when all crew members put in the pause to perfection.

We had more strokes left in us, but a flotilla of cadet dinghies were right behind us for the return leg. We decided to head in to the hard before the kiddies rocked up.

Dauphine highlights dominated Sunday evening.

20k steps for today.

Buzzed: Temporary changes to Ferndale Low Traffic Neighbourhood set to be made permanent by Lambeth Council

To Clapham South! …on Saturday morning for ParkRun. With the bloody Great Wall of Brockwell continuing to make my home park out of bounds, I thought I would try my chances with the Bright Young Things of SW4.

This was the first time I have been to Wankerville in a month or so. The Clapham North Deep Level mural is now completed. It looks magnificent.

It’s the work of WOM - a female street art collective. The mural documents artists past and present who have brightened up the streets of the city with their work. I hope the S Ldn pesky taggers respect the new mural.

Clapham Common ParkRun was HUGE. An email later in the morning confirmed that there was 953 runners. Woh. That’s an awful lot for the Race Director and lovely marshals to manage.

I’m not a fan of the course. It’s around the… Common, but staying on the trails and not the pavement. I prefer running on concrete.

It was like running on a beach in places. The Common is bone dry. I thought I developed a tan line above my running socks. But nope, it was dust.

I can see why the Coffee Ponce of SW8 is not keen on running around these parts.

The cross country route in an urban setting led to some tight corners and the odd bit of branch ducking.

Pace making was provided by the Clapham Chasers Running Club. I tried to hitch a ride along with Mr 21 Minutes for most of the course. I managed to keep up for the first 3km, but then flagged for the final 2km.

There was an endless zig zag funnel to negotiate at the end to collect your token. It’s understandable, given the number of runners.

It felt like queuing to see Her Maj (GAWD Bless her) with a bunch of Clapham kids sky high on endorphins.

The race email confirmed that I finished 116th out of the 953 field. I was first in my age category. This is more a comment on the age demographic of Clapham than my running abilities. I was four seconds off a Clapham PB with a time of 21’36”.

I stopped off at Lidl on the ride home for the Saturday croissant treat. Some car twat had parked his shitty vehicle right in font of the bicycle racks.

Cheers, car twat.

This happens frequently at Lidl. I suspect it was the reason that led to Lidl removing the bicycle racks. I take great pride in that I lobbied Lambeth and made sure they were restored as part of the original planning consent.

To Albert Square!

Doof, doof, doof, doof, etc.

Nope, not that one, but the SW8 Albert Square. The Residents Association was holding a table top sale around various properties.

I was tipped off by A, speculating that it could be a happy hunting ground for any CD house clearance.

It wasn’t.

Fans of designer handbags might have had more fun than I did.

To the Lambeth Country Show! …shortly after luncheon. Christ, it was STEAMING out there. It didn’t seem to bother Flutie. He was wearing long sleeves as he entertained the over-heated motorists of SW8.

I cycled along the usual route through Brixton and Railton Road. This was closed for what was optimistically called ‘Reimagining Railton Road.’

It was actually rather decent. Some new public realm making bollocks was in place with the road painted yellow pointing in the direction of the Vill-aaage. Families were walking up and down, car free.

It reminded me of some of the fun we had in central Brixton in the early 90’s with Reclaim the Streets. It’s a shame that closing off Railton Road to all forms of transport wiped out the LTN access for cyclists.

Hey hoe.

I parked up outside the Lido. The summer queues were HUGE. They were also exclusively white. Fusion has fucked up with it’s £8 swims and online app booking only.

The Country Show was so so. It felt odd not being in the usual end of term position for mid-July in the calendar. It was still chuffing hot. The grass around Brockwell is completely parched after a month long festival programme.

Most of my time was spent snapping away for Buzz, and trying to avoid kids from schools. It was a good road test for the PEN F camera. I need to use it a lot more to get a feel for composing and working around some of the shortcuts.

Most of the Show was given over to poncey food and over-priced drinks. I decided to give the Thai Yoga session at £20 a miss. I didn’t see the Coffee Ponce of SW8.

New for this year was a traditional Wall of Death attraction. That looked half decent in a geezer-ish sort of way. It took me back to Goose Fair in the Fair City.

There was massive queues for Vauxhall Farm and the vegetable shaped like a penis tent. Given the extra temperature inside, I decided to keep on walking, keep on snapping.

full flickr

I stayed for a couple of hours, but had a few chores to carry out back in the flat. The neighbours along South Lambeth Road were sunbathing in their front garden. It’s one hell of a sun trap, albeit not the most peaceful place to soak up the rays.

To Liverpool Street! I was summoned back to the bloody Estuary Wilds.

Oh dear.

I cycled on the Brompton on the straightest route from North to South. The Romans were very good at building roads. The Oval was starting to empty for the World Test Series. It looked like it had been a tired and emotional afternoon for some.

I reached Borough.

OH MY DAYS.

Close your eyes, Jase. The World Naked Bike Ride passed through. This seemed like the stragglers, in every sense. The ride had been rolling out around central London all day. There was some SERIOUS sun tans on show. At least they had the weather for it.

A Moulton Spaceframe overtook me on Ldn Bridge. I found this more of a turn on tbh.

I was back in the bloody Estuary Wilds in time for the Man City match.

And booze,

Always booze.

Chin chin.

Bleary eyed and checking websites before the first cup of tea of the day is not my ideal way to start Friday morning. ALL my sites migrated to a new server in the early hours.

OH HAI b0Rkage.

Except it didn’t happen. There were no issues. I’ve become such a pessimist in recent years, especially when it comes to tech.

My Friday feeling mood didn’t last long. I stepped out the flat for a lovely Larkhall run. Having cleaned out all the crap from the front garden twelve hours earlier, once again our patch was full of litter.

Some people are such DIRTY DOGS.

It’s a never ending battle to keep on top of it. I’ve seen what happens further along South Lambeth Road when you neglect the daily litter pick. It piles up as the arseholes view your garden as a dumping patch.

Once again, you’ve picked the wrong OCD fella to try and win this battle with.

The Larkhall run was brief and functional. I ran past a dog walker. It looked like she had a bear on the other end of the lead.

A couple of workmen type fellas had rocked up at the Larkhall Table of Dreams before 7am. I was impressed with their enthusiasm; I was even more impressed with their early morning sporting drink of choice. I should try a can of Spesh back in the bloody Estuary Wilds.

I showered, and then pondered the wardrobe look for the SW9 school day ahead. This was the first appearance of the work shorts this summer. Actually they are a very smart pair of MTB shorts. Bloody comfortable as well. Hurrah for middle age elasticated waists.

I was nom-committal on the tattoo sleeve front. I’ve yet to strip down to a T-shirt in this school since the winter inking. I wimped out once again today with a shirt over my T-shirt.

Three Little Birds put a smile on my face n the morning assembly. It got better with some Kool and the Gang in the morning music lesson.

Music Lessons have come a long way since Three Blind Mice on the bloody recorders.

And then WOH!

That was it.

The school day was over, just like that. It’s a sign of a happy school when the day passes by like that.

I made the short bicycle journey back to SW8 on the Raleigh Ostara. It’s riding incredibly smooth after a few recent mechanical upgrades. It may have been the industrial strength weed that I couldn’t but help breathe in along Stockwell Road.

Weed and parakeets. Welcome to S Ldn.

BLOGGED: And SO Farewell Will Quince

“Taking to the breakfast telly circuit and repeating the lies of a PM about to fall flat on his arse wasn’t the best look for Quince”

Well I didn’t see that one coming.

Album of the Day: Elvis Presley - Elvis Presley

This was raw as fuck. It must have been a hell of a wake up call back in 1956. The voice is a little higher than I was expecting. But its’s the groove that carries it through for me. You always need some roll with your rock. Blue Moon is bloody brilliant

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

To Brixton Rec! …early evening for a Friday night Body Pump session with Joel. Brixton was… buzzing.

The upstairs studio at the Rec has had a new lick of paint. It’s quite tasteful, being in the corporate livery of the new Active Lambeth brand.

I had a few issues throughout the class in the gentleman’s department. I wasn’t hanging where I wanted to be. Fiddling around for a reposition isn’t the best thing to do in a dance studio with wall-to-wall mirrors.

Joel added some variation to the usual routine. This kept us alert with some new exercises added in.

I bloody love these classes. They are advertised as an hour, but usually stretch to 90 minutes or more. Once you have decided that your Friday night club experience is going to be at the Rec, you may as well stay there and make the most of it.

It looked like a different experience in the level below. The Brixton Fencing Club were doing their pokey pokey thing.

It was a BONKERS day for politics, right? Lewis Goodall on LBC is a great broadcaster.

S Ldn Summers. The BEST, btw.

It was a chilled start for the lame run around lovely Larkhall Park on Thursday morning. Mid-summer shouldn’t feel like this.

The park was empty, apart from the littering of Dott bicycles.

All cycling is good, right?

Erm…

There has been a re-wilding of Larkhall this year. That’s the middle class view anyway. It’s more like Lambeth couldn’t be arsed to cut various sections of the banking. It looks a right bloody mess.

Album of the Day: The Style Council - Cafe Bleu

I’ve always found this such an uplifting album full of optimism. Our Favourite Shop may be TSC’ masterpiece, but this is equally worthy for the joy it spreads. The two contrasting sides work really well.

Weller was pushing it / taking the piss with the jazz club feel on side 1. Flip it over and side 2 makes you want to run free and celebrate life.

I still get that buzz almost forty years later. Headstart for Happiness is such a calling card for all that is possible. Infectious.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

To SE21! A full on school day ahead was planned. And yep - that was a COMPLETE full on school day.

I cycled past Weatherspoon’s in Brixton as the pints were being poured at 8:30am. That’s either very grim, or something to celebrate.

Chin chin.

The first classroom I entered in the morning saw me being sucked into the Hokey Cokey. There’s no place to hide in schools. You have to embrace it and leave your dignity at the school gate.

That’s what it’s all about…

I then had the school conversation that I dread the most:

“Hey! I’ve got some GREAT photos you can use on the school website!”

Betcha you haven’t. They were shot on your old iPad are probably out of focus.

“Do you want to transfer them from the iPad?”

Not really. I’m not on the school network and getting files of a SILO of an iPad is a right bloody pain in the arse.

“Do you want to take a photo of the iPad and then use this on the school website?”

This is a conversation I’ve been having on and off for the best part of over fifteen years. It doesn’t get any easier letting them down gently.

A Whitney inspired lunchtime writing session followed. The kids have a new PA system in the playground. Whitney is a favourite.

It was the musical motivation I needed to spunk out 2k+ words. Or rather it was the musical motivation that Chat GPT needed to…

I cycled through Herne Hill at school chucking out time. The Great Wall of Brockwell looks bloody awful. Just kick it until it breaks.

More pleasing on the eye is the increase in Tern electric bicycles around this patch. They seem to have become the middle class transport of choice for the school run.

Which is good, right?

I moved on towards Brixton. The S Ldn sun had brought out all the Brixton old boys. It was great to see them making the most of the new ‘pocket parks’ - or whatever fancy name is currently in fashion in the dreaded public realm.

Flutie was doing his flute thing in Sunny Stockwell. The fella needs a sun hat in this weather. And a shave, tbh.

I had a brief Lidl run. There was no shame in snaffling up some shampoo with a 39p reduction thanks to my Thursday Lidl app coupon. If only I had some hair to wash.

A serious front garden tidy up took place at South Lambeth Road. I’ve not been here for three weeks. It shows. All the crap from the street gets blown into the garden.

Someone walked past and dropped an unopened packet of cheapo biscuits. I picked them, and momentarily thought of taking them upstairs.

I then embraced my inner OCD.

What would the Coffee Ponce of SW8 do is good mantra in which to live your life.

He’d leave them right there in the street. And still wash his hands half a dozen times.

I did the same.

Dauphine highlights followed. I’ve really enjoyed the race this year. Eight days of bike racing feels about right. Making the commitment for three whole weeks of Le Tour takes some doing.

All my websites are scheduled to migrate to a new server overnight. I just know that this is going to fuck up. I’m not looking forward to the morning.

Buzzed: Lambeth approve application for the Country Show with four days to go - despite the Great Wall of Brockwell already in place around the park

Album of the Day: Orbital - Snivilisation

This makes more sense hearing it in a field rather than sat at home streaming through the AirPods. Even then I’d need some pretty strong drugs to get through this shit at 3am in the morning.

If it wasn’t for the GUSHING of the techno fan boys, this could quite easily be a mixtape from a dodgy early ’90s pirate station.

⭐

SUCCESS for Wednesday morning. The first app I opened up was for my bank. And there it was: an inbound payment of £1.50 from Royal Mail.

That wasn’t hard now, was it?

Oh Lordy. It’s only taken me eight half hour phone calls to get this refund. I still haven’t got a chuffing clue what the original item was that was sent without sufficient postage.

A thinks that it is a scam. This isn’t the first time the local sorting office has asked me for £1.50 and then failed to deliver. But who is the scammer? Surely not Royal Mail?

This is a moral victory for the power of OCD thinking when it comes to tight arse penny pinching. This is the happiest I have felt all year.

In Other Correspondence News: it appears that I need to buy a dressing gown for some personal business to attend to after the summer. I bloody hate dressing gowns. I’ve not worn one since a school Christmas Nativity play over 45 years ago.

The dressing gown will only need to be worn once. A suggested Primark. I’m thinkink eBay or a Sunny Colch charity shop. Or even a post on the local Facebook group asking if anyone can lend me one.

That will shake the stiffs up.

The Annoying Mow Man was doing his annoying mowing thing outside the house for most of the morning. Yeah, yeah. I get your No Mow May thing. The downside is that it takes you a full on day to cut all the crap that has grown. Some of us have wfh, fella.

I listed half a dozen reggae 12’s on eBay. They’re shit. That wasn’t part of the item description, but they are absolute rank.

I’m getting close to bundling up some 12’s and rocking up at Lion Vibes Selecta Thursday in Brixton Vill-aaage and playing a Thursday night set. A is urging caution. I feel it could be a turning point for me.

Mad Dogs and Jase go out in the bloody Estuary Wilds sun. My only free time for a run was at midday. I had miles in my legs and so plodded off along the estuary.

Phew, Wot a Scorcher, etc. It felt good. I became so over heated that my sweat self-evaporated. It’s quite a look, ladies.

I rinsed the new Baxter Dury album during the afternoon. My initial disappointment is starting to turn. The first five tracks are bangers. It then gets a little odd. The lyrics, the bass, the female backing - the fucking profanities. It’s all there.

A run of school publishing landed late afternoon. I smell an imminent visit from that nice Mr Ofsted.

TWO Forest pods dropped later in the day: Garibaldi Red and Forever Forest. Both covered similar ground with a review of the high and low points of the season.

It’s been a hellish season tbh. The lows far out number the highs. But when those highs did come along, then woh. Still buzzing from Palace away.

To Sunny Stockwell! …late in the day. I’ve got business back down in S Ldn over the next few days.

I could have done without the toilet conversation from a couple of Weird Wiv sorts who were also making the journey to LS. This was the most middle class chod bin talk over the phone ever.

It was centred around which level of poncey toilet they were going to have installed, and what benefits the high tech chod bin would bring.

I made a hasty exit at LS. It was pleasing to see a Hari Krishna fella rattling his little cymbal things and spreading some hippy shit throughout the City.

The Brompton didn’t feel right. Within the first couple of minutes I realised that the Brooks saddle was fucked. The master bolt that holds it all together had come loose. My mechanical skills can’t even stretch to fitting a new bicycle seat.

It made for a very uncomfortable ride back down to Sunny Stockwell. The only way to keep the seat on the pole was to ride with a clenched arse. I somehow made it to SW8. A quick tighten up in the flat and job’s a good ‘un.

Wednesday evening was spent reflecting on what wonderful decent human beings some West Ham fans are.

Album of the Day: Beck - Odelay

The slacker feel sounds tedious. I felt like I was transported back to a crappy early 90’s bar. How the chuffers did this break through to the mainstream? Gawd, it’s shit.

⭐

My Strava stats for May dropped: 710km in total. It feels like the majority of these were clocked up getting lost around the outskirts of Clacton on a recent Jaywick ride.

The second email of the day was the ONS Covid shit survey. Yep, this is still a thing. It reminded me what a routine, dull existence I lead with no change in my lifestyle, month in, month out.

Don’t worry - I like it that way, Comrades.

An important date regarding a personal matter was confirmed mid-morning. That makes tattoo planning and cold water swimming arrangements a lot easier to organise.

Like a FOOL I then called up Royal Mail again. I’m persistent fucker. I paid £1.50 for a service that Royal Mail failed to provide. You picked a fight with the wrong OCD fella here, dudes.

Album of the Day Extra: Penguin Cafe Orchestra - Music from the Penguin Cafe

I liked the idea of this album more than the end result. It’s quite a pastoral album, painting pictures through the music. That sounds like arty farty shit, but in the absence of any lyrics, then the mind wanders.

It gets a little paranoid in places with the jabbing from the strings. Not quite the early morning relaxation I wanted. But different, which is always good.

⭐ ⭐

I had only half an hour free for any form of escape during the day. This was enough time for the Weird Wiv hill training - all 58m of it in height. I pushed myself for the 5km and picked up a decent time.

An eBay seller whom I have bought loads of CD’s off in the past reduced prices across the board. I stepped in and snaffled up The Jam’s In the City (completes the set), The Stones’ Let It Bleed and some Wayne Shorter.

I followed the Lambeth Planning meeting from afar. It’s a farce that the top of the agenda item was an application from Lambeth to host the Lambeth Country Show in four days time. The Great Wall of Brockwell is already standing, natch.

We watched the Leicester innings in the Hit ‘n’ Giggle. I confess to having something of a soft spot for Leicestershire when it comes to cricket.

A day of a little work, but much more leisure.

The mid-morning ride to the pool was cool and overcast along the Trail. The path was busy with other cyclists. The over-hanging branches made it quite a technical ride at some pinch points.

The tandem couple had their wonderful ride locked up outside the pool. I can’t work out which couple at the gym this belongs to. I quite like the element of the mystery tandem riders.

This was the first swim wearing my new goggles. I’ve been buying and swimming with this exact same Decathlon brand for over a decade. Tried and trusted.

It was a strong swim. 1km, edging ever closer to under 19 minutes.

I passed a poor young fella who had crashed his kiddie MTB on the ride back along the Trail. His Mum was at hand to add a magic kiss and cuddle. I must have been an Inset Day around the bloody Estuary Wilds, given the number of ankle biters.

I was free mid-afternoon for a longer ride. The plan was to let the Beeline Velo 2 guide me towards Jaywick, then plot in a course heading northwards, before completing the triangle back home.

I had to stop within five minutes to add the gilet layer that I had packed.

The school run, and then the closed gates of the railway crossing at Great Bentley slowed me slightly.

I reached Jaywick, and then though fuck this. I didn’t like to hang around with the Raleigh electric.

I rolled along, not with any real sense of direction. I kinda knew the roads and thought that I would chance it.

I circled around the edges of Clacton, before finding a familiar lane and making the return journey.

Forest announced the winner of the Goal of the Season: Chris Wood’s £15m tap in against Man City. Every player in the team touched the ball. If this was Barcelona then legacy media would be hailing it as Goal of the Decade.

I listened to BBC Nottingham’s review of the season. It was quite emotional. I miss Forest so much already. Pre-season starts in a couple of weeks.

With no shame we watched Jurassic Dominion World on Monday evening. I forked out £3 for three months of Sky Movies. I’m determined to make it work by watching all sorts of Blockbuster shit.

And blimey - this was blockbuster shit. The film was bonkers. I rather enjoyed it.

The only good thing about being woken at 5am by Dotty was that I got to test the good vibrations theory: is the annoying vibration hum coming from our house, or is it related to the traffic outside?

Or possibly an outcome of both?

With no cars until 6am, there was no vibrations. So that proves the theory that it’s an external issue. It may - or may not - then be leading to something vibrating within.

Cheers, Madam Dotty.

Album of the Day: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

This reminds me of Van Morrison in places. It’s positioned on the threshold of punk in’76. Tom Petty could never be placed within this scene, but it did influence his future direction.

What we have here then is the Like Punk Never Happened version of Tom. It’s very twangy. The pace picks up finally with American Girl at the end. The album is short on melodies. A useful starting point, but nothing great.

⭐ ⭐

To the Table of Dreams! It’s been a while. We had a spare half hour in the morning and so spent it knocking up with a game of wiff waff.

We were both very rusty. I found it tough to hit the corners of the table - the sweet spot for table tennis.

Somehow I managed a 2-1 lead. A then pulled away, WHACKING me 3-2.

To Alresford! For walking football friendlies!

We cycled on to the nearby Alresford. I was playing, A’s company was requested as part of the WAG’s.

A mini friendly tournament had been arranged. Walton don’t play in our NE Essex Alliance League. They fancied some game practice and some new opposition. We invited Col U along for the fun.

The idea was for two games per team, each playing one another. Somehow this stretched to four games as we played each other twice. It got a little intense in the midday Alresford heat.

The games were friendlies, but they got a little heated as well. The walking part of walking football is often subjective.

I played mainly up front. I managed some decent shots, forcing some saves from the Walton ‘keeper. I slipped a little lower down the pitch against Col U. I was getting nowhere with their experienced sweeper.

Another Coop BOOZE run followed back at base. The more cheapo stuff I buy in the gypo aisle, the more cheapo shit they put out. This was my fourth BOOZE run in two days.

Oh dear.

To WTCC! The Sunday team had a home fixture. The plan was to enjoy some cheapo Coop BOOZE, watch the cricket and listen to the Surrey commentary in the hit ‘n’ giggle away at Kent.

We arrived with the away team back in the hutch on 72.

Whoops.

This was going to be a very short game.

I opened up a cheapo Stella Artois. A pissed herself when she clocked the alcohol free label.

wtf?

Sorry, beer nerds. I just don’t get alcohol free BOOZE. It tasted rank, btw.

The cricket was soon over. Wivenhoe knocked off the chase with a mixture of experience and yoof.

We snaffled up some incredibly cheap homegrown fruit and veg that was on sale outside one of the houses on the walk home. The cherry tomatoes were an amazing red colour.

The early Wivenhoe finish meant that we could listen to the Surrey chase back down in Kent. That was close.

#3feathers, and proud.

We caught up with the Test highlights from yesterday. Lord’s looked lush. We’ve got a trip planned to HQ next month.

And then the Dauphine highlights.

Chapeau!