command performance

Trin rang me up to demand that I blog something. I did try to blog summat yesterday but blogger ate my post.

I've been doing a pretty good job of sabotaging my earlier good works this week. I've eaten the calories burned during today's bike ride at least 3 times over. I've drunk far too much wine. I've eaten out 3 times and not been mindful of my food choices. I haven't pointed. I have at least kept up with exercise tho - several walks of varying length (20 - 40 mins), belly dancing and 3+ hours (31.5 miles⁴) on bike today. I will do better from tomorrow, I will I will I will.

Ms T is threatening suggesting visiting us at half-term, to show her gels the sights of Madchester. They wanna go shopping - she wants shopping hell but I reckon Abby'd rather hit Afflecks & the rest of the Northern Quarter,with maybe a visit to the sk8r bois near the cathedral. If they come on the right weekend, we could even visit the Garden of Delights. The Garden is handy for curry heaven but Ms T is some kind of curry-hating weirdo. She says she wants to visit the theatre of dreams (TM) too, but she'll have to go on her own.

Oh and O suddenly remembered the other day that he never got the promised bowling trip when we went to Brizzul, so we might have to do that. Trafford Centre could be a good idea, akshually - shops and cinema and bowling and bumper cars all together. And we could all go on a luverly bike ride to Lyme Park (speak to me not of Lyme, show me the spot where Mr Darcy dived¹).

Maybe Ms J might join us too?



1. Not that that happens in the book. The real Mr Darcy would not have done that. I am a Jane Austen fundamentalist and I complained bitterly² thro the BBC adaptation³

2. if bitterly = irritatingly pedantically

3. and don't get me started on Bridget Feckin Jones ...

4. I just realised, that's half a metric century⁵. Wooo.

5. Or 5280 times the length of a London Bus, in real terms