holes

8:30am and I'm falling off my bike.

Today was the first day of the week I've been able to take my bike to work - other events making it impractical for time or load-carrying reasons.

It was chilly and frosty, but dry. Until 8:20. Then a wee flurry of sleet paid a visit to the ground. A short while later, while considering the best way to tackle a particular thought, I took a chicane-type turn too fast on the canal towpath and the back of the bike went for a wee skite. As did I.

Not as impactful as when I came off a a faster pace at the other end of the year, but still a wee sting. And on closer inspection a rip in the shorts, the longs and the skin on my knee. A blood-soaked stain is always more heroic/demonstrably demanding of respect.

The rest of the day was good, podcast recorded and edited at work, transcript to be done on Monday and that's that. Maintained a tight reign on the inbox after yesterday's success too. Back to zero when I left for the evening.

A quite night of cooking for the weeWeir, reading with her. After bedtime, the last of the video edits for Sunday and tackling some of the home email madness.

142 messages to go. There's not a hole for them to all go into, is there?

Was glad to have Mrs theWeir home for a particularly hard day at work. All is calm. All is bright.