Wednesday 3rd January, 2024

Album of the Day: Loretta Lynn - Don’t Come Home A Drinkin’ (With Lovin’ On Your Mind)

The Voice of Heartbreak. I can’t decide which leads the way here - the songs or the tearful delivery. Put them both together and it’s a combination that is going to leave you feeling a little down on yourself. Perfect for a rainy Wednesday morning in January.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Premo Bonds disappointment first thing.

Arse.

Nothing. Zero.

I’m pleased that I didn’t stay up until midnight for the anti-climax.

There was further negativity with the planned return to running. The NHS website said yep, you’ve passed the timeframe post-op when physical exercise should be OK.

But I’m a cautious fella.

I poked around a little further online. The NHS advice seemed a little too optimistic. I decided to play it safe, and delayed the return for another month.

This felt like a personal failure. I was even kitted up in my running gear before having second thoughts.

It an age thing, innit?

Thirty years ago and I thought nothing of playing football the day after a bad injury. Run it off, etc.

Those carefree days are long gone and will never return. At least it will be the start of spring when I get to put on the running shoes again.

In More Happy Happy Joy Joy News: I’ve been suckered into watching the Forest Fan TV daily videos each day.

Yeah yeah. It’s clickbait. But it passed the time whilst I demolish a bowl of porridge.

Football journalism ain’t what it use to be:

“Steve Cooper might go to Palace if Roy Hodgson dies.”

Blimey.

You never heard Bob Wilson say something like this on dear old Football Focus.

A decent fella rocked up at lunchtime. We’re having window and shed roof issues. He was very honest in his assessment. He pre-warned me about the quote that is about to come.

I turned to ebay to try and pull in some pennies.

Why isn’t my London Knights rare cagoule selling?

Oh. I priced it at £250 rather than the planned £25.

Whoops.

Afternoon listening was The Clash’s Vanilla Tapes. These are new to me. They held my interest for a while. There’s a reason why demos remain demos though.

We watched the Mascots film early evening. It was interrupted midway through when Dotty delivered a mouse into the lounge.

The excitement continued. My phone pinged. I sold the Knights top. And not for £250, either.

DARTS saw out Wednesday. What a fantastic final.

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