Apr 27 (Sun)

After the bike ride I am full of get up and go, though my first port of call, to the scales, restores calm. 13/13. Not good.
I do a few tidying up bits and pieces, and then watch the film I recorded last night. I first chance on Les Visiteurs about 5 years ago. I switched the tele on and saw a film in French, and soon was laughing my arse off. I started to record it then, and decided to run it by H, was also loves it. I checked with P, who was very aware of it too.
A couple of weeks later I saw an English language version advertised whilst working in Manchester. I went along in keen anticipation. It was dismal. The thing had been so sanitised and injected with Hollywood schmalz it was unrecognisable from the riotous gallic farce which had so amused us. I was the only person in the cinema. Halfway through someone came in and gazed around. I think it was the projectionist seeing if there was anyone left to put another reel on for.
Anyway, on second showing the real film lived up to all expectations, with the added benefit that I got to see the beginning this time. Not that the absurd plot was essential to the fun, but it helped explain how on earth the bizarre story had come to unfold.
Not much more occurred during the day, which was sunny, though far less pleasant than yesterday. I keep urging myself back onto the bike to capitalise on last night's triumph, but I can find far too many reasons not to. So I don't.
Soon it's time to start buying (in view of H's absence) and cooking, the Sunday dinner. H & S ring to say they won't be home for it. Malcolm has said he is coming, but as usual he disappears without trace, before re emerging with some bizarre tale to explain his non appearance.
The two girls return home late in the evening. I fancy watching Les Vis once more with Heath, but it's been a hard weekend for them, and soon she is snoring contentedly, the rafters rattling in sympathy.