Idiot Tax

Simon (the bookies favourate) D, at work, always sorts a sweepstake for any big horse race, World Cup stuff, or Grand Prix that's on. There are a lot of sports reporters on the other side of the room and people who know there stuff.

Like a big wally, I always hand over my quid. Have done for everything for the last 3 years. Golf, motor racing, the National, the Derby, whatever. Not won a bean.

I was hopeful this time. Someone said "Oooo, well done" and it had some bookies numbers on it that were better than the usual nag I pull out of the bag. I never win anything like this. I'm just not lucky that way.

So, having an uncharacteristic chance for once, I made a point, while Jema is away at her sisters hen party, of watching the race live from Aintree.

It fell at the second fence.

A New Way

By the power of GPS, I found a new route to work today.

Far more chillin' than running the gauntlet of the A6; it follows the usual route then it meanders downhill through a quiet estate, over the Derwent by an enormous weir (see startled canoeist), through this kinda craft workshop/factory thing, over some bridges, and through the park following the river.

Very little traffic and only a few dog walkers to get in the way.

It brings me out right by work, all refreshed and un-smogged.

Most tranquil.

Dunfloatin'

We picked up the cheque from the marina for Andromeda this afternoon. I'll stick it in the bank tomorrow.

Sad, but at least we can crack on with getting the work done on the house now, and get ourselves some more furniture.

I guess that really is it, then. End of an era.