Apr 26 (Sat)

Znooker's on the tele. The world championship.When it first arrived on TV I was a big fan. In those days of course we tended to watch anything on Beeb 2 simply because it was the only colour channel, and so snooker took root in my psyche. Later on it was the kind of thing that would go on late into the night when the other three channels had closed down (yes they really did close down for the night! Then I grew tired of the game and in fact became quite anti. I've settled down into a kind of take it or leave it attitude, but I am sufficiently aware of it to acknowledge this tournament as one of my mileposts of the year. It means we are well into spring and heading for early summer. The cricket is happening already, and soon we'll hear that the French Open tennis is about to happen in Paris. This, of course means Wimbledon is on it's way, and summer should be a reality.
All this reflection is prompted by that rarity this spring, a bright warm balmy day.
For all the wonderful weather, the day starts badly. As I head out to pick up A for her lesson, J & K are outside contemplating the shattered remains of her quaterlight. The car has been emptied of all it's contents. Again I start to wonder if this isn't the time to get out of here.
A's lesson goes really well, and then it's home to see Chelsea v Man U. If Chelsea don't win, it virtually hands the scum the title, so unusually I sit down to a premiership match. It's a thriller. Chelsea dominate (honest!) and take the lead, only for a breakaway goal by Spudhead which seems to have saved the scum from their deserved drubbing. Close to the end though, a ball comes in from the right, hits Carrick on the hand,and FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS SEASON, Utd have a penalty awarded against them. Ballack hammers the nail into their coffin.
They take their destruction in their usual style, kicking and swearing. One of them attacks a steward, Ferdinand kicks a lady steward. Ferguson whines about the penalty and all the dreadful decisions which always go against them. General guffawing all around.
They are still ahead on goal difference, and need to drop more points to let Chelsea in. The hope must be that this defeat (hopefully followed by another to Barcelona) will hit them and get the collywobbles going. Fingers crossed.
After this a lazy day. Very little done apart from the updating of this blog following the return of this laptop from PC World (no arrests to date!)
H & S have gone off to Bath for the weekend to officiate in a volley ball tournament. Dan spends the whole day on WoW, Ems arranges to go to K's for a sleepover.
I ride the bike into town, taking advantage of the fair weather. After three pints I am regretting the decision, but I gamely remount and head for the hills. I haven't ridden up the hill non stop for years, and have no serious hope doing so. Half way up and puffing, and a pleasant, walking drunk offers encouragement. the last thing I want to do is talk, but once I have passed him I realise I can cycle from a seated position, and all of a sudden I realise that I can get to the bloody top. I was chuffed to be sure. Is this the key to getting down to 13st again?
Recorded the french film "Les Visiteurs" look forward to watching it tomorrow.