A Fish Wifey and a Basket

I'm a creature of habit and my Saturday's are always similar when I'm at home. Firstly, I did Parkrun, with the aim of beating my Platt Fields PB. The 'Church of Parkrun' illusion was shattered. I overheard this week's organiser cheerily bitch to anyone who would listen about the shortcomings of some of the other volunteers. The hypocrisy of the woman....."this event wouldn't be possible without the help of all the wonderful volunteers" she announced before the off. I was too focused to think about shouting "that's not what you were saying 5 minutes ago ya two-faced fish wifey" back at her. Although a little fatigued, once up to race pace I felt ok. Unfortunately I was 11 seconds off target (14 per the incorrect official time).

Then it was off on the bike to Salford for a swim. I was soaked even before I got in the water as it was tipping it down. In fact, it was a relief to get in the H2O as it was warmer than the air. I did 3 easyish laps, got out, didn't bother getting dried and then cycled back to town in wet n windy weather. I picked up some stuff in the Eighth Day veggie shop and then headed back the village, shivering profusely for the duration of the train journey.

After an afternoon nap, it was off to Glossop for further provisions and then home to do some writing. I needed fresh air to clear the membrain so had a wee walk down in the valley with the broad bottom, noticing this funny wicker basket hanging in a tree!