My bum hurts

An hour and a half of cycling will do that to you, assuming you're not used to sitting on a razor blade. And don't believe all that crap those gel saddle cover selling people tell you cos they don't work either.

Still, babygirl and I had fun and there's something very liberating about cycling, even if I do feel like a bloody great blimp and have to be taught cyclecraft by my daughter. She found it incredible that the bike I was on was the first one I'd ever owned in my life and I loved that she did cos that means she thinks it's normal for all kids to have a bike of their own. It fucking is! I just never had normal, or a bike, so I love the times when she makes those incredulous faces cos it means I've done good atsomefuckingthing as a mum. My own mind may be fubar'd but my kids? They're fit to live life fantastically and therefore easily pay for my choice of care home.

We also had a major giggle at the top of the hill where we stopped for a water break. A group of teens were messing about near the stream/river thingy at the bottom (I'm not good at knowing what these things are but it's wet and runs in a wavy line through the country park, ok?), you know pushing each other in and filming it for youtube, that sort of thing.

The group of teens that joined us at the hilltop were picking out the ones they knew at the bottom and, me being me, I joined in the conversation and made jokes about washing wet, smelly clothes - just prior to one of the lads deciding that if he was going in he'd at least save his mum a mucky job and strip off.

Completely. Stark, bollock, naked.

Which, obviously, meant that his mates picked up his discarded clothes and ran off with them.

I'm pleased to report that this lad had no self-confidence issues whatsoever judging by his waving at his audience at the top of the hill before running, Benny Hill style, after the lads that had his boxers then doing star jumps and hip thrusts when he realised he wasn't going to retrieve them.

I only stopped laughing when a real grown up ascended the hill from the other side and gave us all a sideways glance and a tut. The very second he'd passed us I collapsed into giggles again, babygirl voiced her shame of me to the group of giggling teens and the naked lad recovered his socks so it was all over.

It was fun while it lasted but blimey, my bum don't half hurt now!



I've had a major Alanis day today, ripping all her cd's to the hdd and replaying them as mp3's and suchlike. That was the last of the cd's to add to the downloaded stuff - so why do I still not feel like I have the right music to fit my mood? 15 fucking gigs of music and nothing touches me?

That's just wrong.