When I'm Not Cleaning Windows

Monday 26 October

Wrote a review of Sergeant’s debut album for the Jocknroll blog. It’ll certainly be one of my albums of the year come the time people start making lists of their albums/records/TV shows of the year, which is any time now.

Things have calmed down on the drive to and from work and while I’m still swearing like a trooper in the car at some of the imbeciles who’ve been allowed to grace out roads I’m less inclined to ‘out’ them on Twitter under the #baddriver tag.

Had the gym to myself today. I’ve upped the Shoulder Press by 1 weight and I’ve replaced “the plank” with some sit-ups for a few weeks just to see what difference they make.

Today is the first day of Daddy Cabs picking up both girls on the same run. I now pick K up from a more stress-free train station. By that I mean that I don’t get wound up by witnessing lazy people parking in Disabled bays or blocking off other vehicles because (a) they can’t be bothered to find a parking space (it’s hardly the biggest car park in the world) and (b) they can’t walk the length of themselves (some of them could do with the exercise – since when is being fat and lazy a disability?) There are always plenty of spaces at the new station and the journey to and from is generally less stressful.

Having checked the questions for the quiz night I realise that despite adding an extra audio round there are actually less points available than last year! Last year’s quiz went really quickly and there some grumbles about that. In a panic I write some more questions.

Tuesday 27 October

The evening was spent preparing this Sunday’s radio show and giving some thought to my entry for the HBA awards. I was well chuffed to be nominated last year and I know I'll need to improve for this year’s awards. With the awards being in Erskine, along the M8, he station are keen to get as many entries in as possible. Whether we win or get any nominations is another story. Fingers crossed.

Wednesday 28 October

My first #baddriver in a wee while this morning as SN02 ZBV proves time and time again on the route from Barnton to Craigleith that the concept of indicating is an alien one to him. It’s okay, mate, we’re all mind readers capable of knowing exactly what you’re going to do next. Cock!

My daughter was complaining of headaches. Just as I was giving her some Calpol in her bed, she threw up all over the carpet, the bed and me. The smell and mess were not pleasant. Scrambled eggs everywhere! That wasn’t the end of it but I’ll leave it there.

Thursday 29 October

I’m knackered. Maybe all this gym work is taking its toll or maybe I’m not getting enough sleep but I’m exhausted. Last night’s clean up took it out of me and I didn’t sit down until 10pm, which is normally when I prepare for bed. I watched “Never Mind The Buzzcocks” to wind down and then trundled off to bed.

Parking at work is at a premium at the moment due to roadworks. What? Roadworks in Edinburgh? Shurley shome mishtake! At 0618 I got myself parked and took a walk to the nearest cash machine. My attention was drawn to a sticker on the machine as I typed in my PIN. It said “Cash Machine Best Practice”. I don’t know if it was the patronising tone suggesting I wasn’t smart enough to hide my own PIN number from prying eyes or the use of “best practice”, the type of office bullshit wankspeak that drives me up the wall, but it annoyed me. “Best practice” is up there with “equality impact assessment”, “competency framework” and “360 degree appraisal” when it comes to corporate tosh. Almost as bad as L’Oreal’s made up ingredients – Boswelox, Pro-Tensium, Pro-Retinol A…Even Avon are at it now.

Monday 2 November

I just can’t get used to these early starts and although the alarm is set for 5.30am I still have an annoying habit of waking up at 4am!

Did crap on University Challenge. I get annoyed that it makes me feel stupid, even though I’m not (honest). It doesn’t help when she-who-must-be-obeyed reels off answer after answer.

Tuesday 3 November

Took a half-day so I could (a) meet Flick’s new teacher and (b) put some work into my HBA awards entry. The chat with the new teacher was rather brief – I spent more time talking to the Head – but worthwhile in terms of putting a face to the name. Apparently Flick is regarded as “a bit of a character”. I think (and hope) that’s a good thing. I also wonder if every school is like Waterloo Road or Grange Hill. I do hope not.

Wednesday 4 November

Taking an hour off work so I can trail to Glenrothes to pick up a parcel that was undelivered yesterday. Only complaint is that the card didn’t specify whom the parcel was for and if ID was required. Luckily, it was for me and I had my driving licence. Considering the out-of-the-way location of the depot it would be a bit of a pain if someone had arrived with little or no ID or to find that the parcel wasn’t for them but a spouse or family member and then have to trail back home for ID. I only took one wrong turn on the way back to Dunfermline! Glenrothes is a warren of roundabouts and “sneaky” roads and I never leave there without taking some sort of "detour".

After an hour at home Daddy Cabs is back out on the road to collect Flick (today she has left her bag at school) and the Good Lady Wife. We then have less than an hour at home before we have to head out again. I drop the girls off at Rainbows/Guides and head off on the A92 to Kirkcaldy for a VRN meeting to discuss the HBA awards and who will be entered in which category. I’ve put together an entry for the Best Specialist Music category but after the meeting I decide it needs amending to give more emphasis to the mod/soul element of it. I’ve also volunteered a possible entry in the Speech category, using five minutes from the Andrew Collins interview I did in August.

On the way home some twat decides to tailgate me while sticking his full beams on. The lights didn’t seem legal – there was a blue tinge around the outside – and the ferocity of them was blinding. Cock!

Watched “Never Mind The Buzzcocks” and Jamelia, whose music I’m rather indifferent to, was hilarious. During the Identity Parade round she said she knew the answer because the person in the line-up had tried to sell a story on her to the press! Priceless.

Thursday 5 November

Same shit, different day. it's amazing the effect all this exercise is having on me. I'm so much more industrious, concentrating better and generally more efficient and not wasting a minute.

Once again I had the gym to myself. Do I smell? Well, I don't when I first go in.

Made a “Girls! Girls! Girls!” compilation for a colleague. You always hope someone likes a compilation you've made them. I still put as much work into a CD compilation as I ever did with the cassette equivalents. It's just a lot quicker now.

Friday 6 November

E-mailed our property management to point out that a neighbour was parking his car on a piece of grass that we all the local residents pay maintenance for. He usually has three, sometimes four, vehicles parked around his house (and I don't just mean "normal" cars) and he's decided that the one piece of grass in the street (bar everyone's own gardens) is now his. It isn't. He's now badly churned up the grass and the irony is that he's a green keeper! I've never really had a problem with him until now. It'll be interesting to see if the property management, who get a big annual fee from residents both to pull their finger out. My issue is not so much the damage done but the prospect of the bill being passed on to all the residents instead of the perpetrator of the damage.

Saturday 7 November

A very industrious morning and by 9am I'd fed the birds (well, filled the feeders) , de-iced the car, taken the mountain of recycling to Tesco, drunk to cups of coffee and eaten boiled eggs on toast. Listened to the fabulous "Sounds of the Sixties" between 8 and 10 and then turned over to BBC6Music where Andrew Collins and Richard Herring were sitting in for Adam and Joe. Did my radio listening while preparing tomorrow's radio show. Realised that I had pencilled two tracks by Scott Walker and Cher so I've binned one Cher track ("Twelfth of Never") but as one of the Scott Walker tracks was from Scott 4, which was released under his real name on Noel Scott Engel, I'm playing both of those. My show, my rules.

It's going to be an Andrew Collins sort of day because later I'm going to cut my 31 minute interview with him down to 5 minutes as a possible entry for the HBA awards.

Spooky or what? My neighbour, the green keeper, has started to attempt to patch up the deep tyre tracks on the grass but it looks like he's taking turf from another part of the same piece of land! Does he think no-one will notice? Hmm, interesting.

The window cleaner climbs over the side fence before realising that it wasn't actually locked! One of these days, I'll get around to cleaning them on the inside!

Make the fatal mistake of sitting down to watch 5 minutes of a game only to see a pulsating 45 minutes between Swansea and Cardiff fly by. It's 2-2 at the break after a thrilling first half.

Jimmy's Gone

Wednesday 9 September 2009

Good news. A particularly objectionable individual is leaving the organisation I work for. This person has a God complex, like many in his department, and I won’t be sad to see the back of him. He was thoroughly rude and ill mannered towards me on a couple of occasions while simply doing my job and I’ve never liked him since. He’s a dinosaur and the sort of person that gives my employer a bad name.

Two weeks after my contraction of some chesty, cold-related ailment on the school run, I’m still trying to shift the last remnants. I’m also still wheezing like an asthmatic donkey. There used to be this great linctus you could get from the Co-op and I’ve never been able to find it for years. That would’ve shifted it by now. I pop into Boots and they don’t even try to sell my anything. They recommend a trip to my GP for antibiotics. Maybe that’s the Friday off I’m looking for.

Flick starts Rainbows tonight and my normal Wednesday night peace and quiet will be shattered as Daddy Cabs goes into overtime. Rainbows are on from 6 until 7 and Guides from 7 until 9. As K is now running both I’ll have to drop them both off at 6 and then return for Flick at 7 with K making her own way home at 9. K suggested that she take the car and I head along on the bike for 7 and then we swap so I bring Flick home at 7 in the car and she comes home on the bike. When you have kids everything is a military operation!

Having finished the audio book of Andrew Collins’ very enjoyable “Where Did It All Go Right?”- the first in his autobiographical triumvirate - I ponder what to listen to next to relieve the boredom of the drive to and from work. In the twilight of the living room this morning I choose Nick Lowe’s “Jesus Of Cool”. I only really know the “hits” so I’m happy to learn more about a favourite of K’s during the daily commute.

According to the front page of today’s Daily Record, Glasvegas frontman James Allan has gone ‘missing’ on the eve of a US tour. Who does he think he is, Joe Strummer?

Talking of the Record, guess who the “one fan” was: http://tinyurl.com/mh5j62, I’m not even a fan; I was being sarcastic! This comment was made on Twitter in response to Glasvegas’ guerrilla gig, when some fans couldn’t get in because some of the limited places had been taken up by the band’s guest list!

How easy is it to be a journalist nowadays? You just rake through Twitter, Facebook and website forums for quotes and “stories”. Or, in the case of my employer, make countless spurious Freedom of Information claims. The latest one? How many pieces of a particular piece of clothing has our employer issued to female members of staff. They’re the first to complain about not enough officers on the street. That’s because they’re too busy working out how much we’ve spent on tea, coffee and biscuits! Woodward and Bernstein would be turning in their graves, if they were dead.

Andrew Collins and life on the School Run

Saturday 22 August 2009

Drop K and F off at ballet and head off to do battle with the Edinburgh traffic. I’m pretty sure I’ll park at New Street car park, which backs on to Waverley Station. I survive Queen Street and Picardy Place before heading down Calton Road and then into New Street. Never having been in this particular car park before I’m not sure of the layout so I pick the first space I can find. Unfortunately it’s between two cars that are both parked diagonally in their respective rectangles. I ponder leaving a note on the window of the worst offender but I see what appears to be a Turkish flag in the car and I decide against it, figuring they might not understand the sarcastic tone of my missive. Being distracted by the parking prats, and just to make matters worse, I bump the front of the car. Yet more scratches.

I figure, having consulting the car park company’s website, that I have 4 hours so I synchronise my watch and head off in the direction of East Market Street. I’ve got loads of time so I wander along Jeffrey Street, snapping the Tempting Tattie (the scene of today’s flashmob), and then up the Royal Mile, taking in the Festival air. I’ve never been to the Underbelly before and I only know that it’s in the Cowgate somewhere. The Cowgate never fails to bring back memories. It always pains me to see Siglo, a horrible identikit pub, which replaced my beloved spit-and-sawdust Green Tree of my early 20s. I had so many great nights in there and in the club across the road, where I met my wife.

It turns out that the Underbelly is a multi-levelled nook-and-cranny venue between the Cowgate and Victoria Street. It’s reminiscent of The Mission, which is a few doors down on Victoria Street. I don’t know if “The Mish” still operates but I saw some great bands there “back in the day” and for only a few quid. There wasn’t a week went by when you couldn’t see The Fizzbombs, One Thousand Violins or the psychedelic pre-dance Shamen.

I wander around the Underbelly exploring every little cove. At first I’m rather self-conscious then I realise I’m surrounded by many others in the same drifting boat, so I don’t feel so bad. I did what I usually do in these circumstances; I pretended I was looking for someone. This wasn’t so far from the truth in that I was looking for the person who was front of the queue. I find where I’m supposed to wait and wander about for a bit before planting myself on a windowsill. The area is hot and the cool breeze from the open window is a godsend. My window seat happens to be where the queue starts but as there’s only one other person around I don’t feel bad for jumping the queue.

More and more people arrive and I marvel at how well organised the queuing system is. The queuing areas are marked out on the floor. It never ceases to amaze me the reaction of some people. They turn up five minutes before the doors are due to open and seem astonished that so many others are there before them – “Oh, there’s a queue!” I HATE queue-jumpers. It’s bad manners, pure and simple. And cheating! Someone who has been waiting for 20 minutes should get in before somewhere who’s been waiting for 5 minutes. Thankfully the most stressful part of my work day – the queue for the bus home and the “jostling” for position – is, thanks to a change in work hours and use of the family car, long gone.

Being so tall I don’t usually sit at the front – I’m considerate like that – but on this occasion I want to see and hear everything. I apologise to the people behind me for being so tall, although I don’t have to. It’s a pre-emptive strike against any moans of “I can’t see” or “why doesn’t he wear a top hat too and be done with it?”

The podcast, apparently not one of their best, is very enjoyable and has me in tears of laughter. Richard Herring has organised a daily event whereby all the podcast audience are invited along to the Tempting Tattie to try and eat all the baked potatoes in the shop. Richard even has his own topping, cheese and mango chutney, which wouldn’t be my first choice. Or 41^st come to think of it.

The Tattie “army” assembles in the entrance of the Underbelly (Cowgate end) and begins the short yomp to Jeffrey Street for Operation Baked Potato Sell-Out. I’d already bumped into Andrew before the show. He’s smaller than I imagined but everyone, except John Leslie, appears shorter than me so that’s hardly a surprise. We discussed the format for the day. He needs to get back to Edinburgh for a show at 1830 but he isn’t staying for a baked potato at the Tempting Tattie. Fine by me, I say. You have a chat at the Tattie with friends and fans and I’ll get the car. Deal!

We walk to Jeffrey Street via the Cowgate and St. Mary’s Street and I regale Andrew with tales of my past in the area. The queue at The Tattie is long and I’m quite glad we’ve decided against lunch there. I go off to get the car and Andrew chats with fans while selling audio books out of his carrier bag.

After a false start, I finally exit the car park. It turns out that it’s £4 to park all day on Saturday or Sunday so I needn’t have worried – why don’t they say this on the website? A toot of the horn, some goodbyes from Andrew and we’re off. Due to the tramworks, I have to take a somewhat elongated route out of Edinburgh. I give Andrew a guided tour of Abbeyhill, London Road, the Cathedral at Picardy Place (where I got married) and Queen Street. I relax when we get to Queenferry Road, a road I’ve driven along a lot and know very well, mainly because it’s my route home from work. Our sharp exit from Edinburgh means we don’t have to rush so much. Andrew takes the opportunity while in the car to upload the podcast. It’s fully uploaded just as we get to the hospital radio station in Kirkcaldy. Perfect timing.

I have to admit to being rather nervous. ‘Hero’ probably isn’t the right word but Andrew is someone I admire very much and I don’t want to make an arse of myself. I’ve prepared for the interview and written (and re-written) some questions. I try to keep them short because it isn’t about me; it’s about Andrew and the audio book. After a quick test of the microphones we get started. My voice is sounding a bit weak and wimpy, if I’m being honest, and Andrew sounds like, well, a professional. He’s loud and clear and never anything less than interesting. To be honest I don’t hear everything he says because I’m thinking of the next question or the record I’m getting ready. It’s only when I listen back to the interview later that night that I hear just how good an orator he is. Maybe he’s well rehearsed in talking about the book/audio book and why wouldn’t he be, he’s a pro.

After some one-line trailers and the usual photos – he takes one of me using his Macbook, Elaine from VRN takes two of us in front of the VRN sign (for the station Memories album) – we’re heading back to Edinburgh. Never one for wasting a minute, he writes his blog on the M92 as I drive south; I try to drive a steady 60mph. I admire his dedication and focus and this is something I aspire to. A 9 to 5, Monday to Friday, job and a 5-year old daughter are not entirely inducive to getting some quality writing time. I’m writing a book but it’s a slow process, trying to grab an hour here, 45 minutes there. But Andrew has encouraged me to keep plugging away at it and that I shall.

We’ve made such good time that I’m able to drop off Andrew near the flat he’s staying at in the capital. After a farewell ‘toot’, I’m off on my fourth journey of the day over the Forth Road Bridge – thank god they scrapped the tolls. When I get home I wind down with a coffee and relate the days adventures to the Good Lady Wife. After Flick’s bedtime stories, I listen to the interview in its entirety. Although I’m not happy with my own voice Andrew comes across brilliantly and I’m just relieved that the microphones were working. I take out about 20 seconds worth of me going “er” and “um” and there’s 31 minutes left, which’ll be slotted into tomorrow’s show. I’m happy and relax for the rest of the evening.

Sunday 23 August 2009

The interview with Andrew slots nicely into my show and you would never know that he wasn’t live on the show. Well, you do now!

Monday 24 August 2009

I’m off this week. My daughter started school last Wednesday and this is her second week and her last week of half-days. Daddy’s on the school run and I’ve planned it with military precision. I needn’t have bothered as we had so much time in the morning that I’m able to reward Flick with a quick “Peppa Pig” before we leave. The breakfast-wash-dressing routine fulfilled we head off. The school has a car park a short walk from the main buildings but it’s small and, as government ministers are want to say, “unfit for purpose”. It caters for not one but two primary schools and even with the staggered start for the new Primary 1s it’s a nightmare to get in and out of.

Luckily the mother of one of Flick’s pre-school pals has told of us of a better place to park. Our “sneaky parking”, as we have come to know it, is on the other side of the school but doesn’t involve any further of a walk. I can’t believe more people don’t know of it. We leave the house at 0830, get parked at 0845 (just beating the rush, such as it is) and we saunter down to the school hand-in-hand.

I mingle with the yummy mummies and other dads as the children run about daft until the school bell goes. A couple of the parents have even worn their best tracksuits! I’m immensely proud of Flick. She looks smart and is enjoying her school experience. No doubt that’ll change in a few years.

I have two hours back at home before I have to return to the school. I do some work on my book but I don’t seem to get much done as I have to head off.

As any parent will know getting information out of your child, especially when you’ve asked for it, is, as they say, like getting bloody out of a stone. “How was your day?” “Fine”. “What did you do today?” “Nuffin’” “No-TH-ing!” “NoTHing”. You do find out some of what’s occurred between the classroom walls but it’s usually drip-fed over a number of days.

Tuesday 25 August 2009

School Run – Day 2. Today some of the parents were invited to have lunch with their offspring and their new classmates and being off this week I was the nominated parent. I plumped for a baked potato, with cheese and pickle and Flick, taking an instant dislike to the thought of Spaghetti Bolognese, plumped for the packed lunch.

Flick was determined to get out on her bike when we go home and as the weather had been good I decided we could kill two birds with one stone. The constant wet weather had meant the front lawn had gone uncut for sometime and if it had been left any longer I’m sure I’d find Japanese soldiers in there thinking the war was still on.

With strict instructions to only cycle between the nearest two lampposts, Flick began peddling away as I started on the overgrown lawn. No sooner had I started than I had to stop again – bloody cat shit! It’s the bane of my gardening life. I’ve tried various things to get rid of it. We had an ultrasonic alarm, which worked well until it was stolen. I’ve tried pepper and an assortment of sprays but nothing seems to deter the little blighters.

Eventually the lawn was done and so was I. I felt awful. I wasn’t sure if I was coming down with something but now I was convinced I was because I was totally wiped out. Flick, of course, had loads of energy and got some good exercise and some fresh air. When I was ready to go back in, so was she.

I had tickets to see Richard Herring do his “Hitler Moustache” show at the Underbelly and my mate Gary had agreed to come with me. My colleague Tricia dropped out with a cold. I wasn’t feeling too good myself but I didn’t want to waste the tickets and I was really keen to see the show, especially after all the nonsense in The Guardian. In the end I was glad I went because I thought it was great and I can’t believe it wasn’t nominated for a Fringe award.

Wednesday 26 August 2009

School Run – Day 2.5: I say 2.5 because while I was dropping Flick off in the morning she was going to be picked up by one of her childminders at lunchtime. She’d only been to the home of one of the girls and this was a chance to get used to the other house. I picked her up later on.

Having had a taste for freedom she wanted to get her bike out again. I took the opportunity to hose down the front of the house, the flowers and the car as she cycled back and forward and back and forward and back and forward. She never got bored.

Thursday 27 August 2009

My last day on the school run and I’ll actually miss it. Flick was up sharp again and I promised her we’d go swimming after school. We had a ball and popped into McDonalds for something to eat on the way home. We don’t go there a lot but she likes it as an occasional treat. By the time we got home we were both exhausted. I put CBeebies on for her and I relax on the settee. I say, “relax”, I mean fall asleep. Apparently I was snoring so loud during “Peppa Pig” that Flick had to put her hands over her ears!

Friday 28 August 2009

The Good Lady Wife is off today and boy am I glad. My fluey cold-like symptoms have taken their toll and my much-needed lie-in means I don’t get out of bed until 11am! It’s a lazy day today.

Saturday 29 August 2009

I drop the girls at ballet and head off to Halfords for some lint-free clothes. I’ve got to do something about the scratches on the car, which has been on my To-Do List for a while now. I take a quick wander around Waterstones (music and sport books) and Debenhams (Ben Sherman stuff) before heading back to pick up the girls.

Sunday 30 August 2009

I do a “Friday-Big-Shop” at Asda, Kirkcaldy before I head off to the radio station. I got a bit frustrated when I couldn’t locate the Flaked Almonds and Bacon Lardons but I collared a manager and he lead me straight to them.

It wasn’t the best show I’d ever done, probably a 7 out of 10. A track by 60s Edinburgh band The Buzz wouldn’t play until I’d given the CD a good clean. Still suffering with a sore throat didn’t help. Next week’s show is going to be an Ellie Greenwich special.

I return home in time to do Flick’s second story, which turned out to be a long chapter from a book and I struggled through it manfully. After a lovely Steak Pie and vegetables I settle down to watch an old Top Gear and last week’s “House”. The lunches were made, bags packed and e-mails checked one last time. Time for bed.

Monday 31 August 2009

I haven’t slept a wink all night. The Good Lady Wife was snoring and this is the first day of my new working hours. A 7am start means a 6am departure, hence the 5.30am wake-up alarm. I do the right thing in trying to get to bed early (I’m in bed for 10.20pm) but I can’t settle. I try reading for a while (Paul Kimmage’s “Rough Ride”) but it’s no use. Hopefully, getting back to the gym, which I’ve missed, will help. I hope so.

Today is my gym assessment, which should be interesting because last week was the first week I haven’t been to the gym in many weeks.

I’m in the office by myself and after a week off it takes me about 30 minutes to catch up with what’s been happening. My gym assessment, which will be my last, is just a brief 10-minute ride on the bike and a run through of my techniques on the machines I’m already using plus an introduction to the leg press machine. The first few minutes on the bike are a struggle but I’m soon back into my stride. Maybe taking it easy isn’t such a bad idea and I don’t feel so bad about the week off. In many ways it’ll help to re-motivate me, almost like starting again.

The drive home wasn’t as quiet as I thought it would be. I imagined I’d miss the school run and rush hour; where have all these people come from? I’m now so immune to the idiots on the road that I’m actually disappointed when I don’t encounter at least one. I cope by (a) assuming that everyone driving is an idiot and can do something stupid at any minute and (b) listening to Radio 3 to keep calm. The latter helps a little although I feel I’m in an episode of “Morse”.

I pick up Flick from a very busy after-school Kids’ Club. I also see one of my bête noires collecting his kid. I know it’s him because he drives a distinctive van, a van that often speeds up and down our road. He rarely wears his seatbelt and is a stranger to an indicator. A man with a young family driving so recklessly in an area awash with many other young families really raises my hackles. We live in a 20mph area and there’s no excuse. It’s safe to say, I don’t like him.

The new hours and travel arrangements for all of us means a new home routine too. Staggered meals are out as we now sit down together, as a family, for tea. Previously this would only happen at weekends. After food, play, shower and stories, Flick’s asleep and we can settle down for an evening of intellectual stimulation. Monday night is University Challenge (BBC2) followed by Only Connect on (BBC4) and thanks to Sky+, The Gadget Show on Five. We do well to get half a dozen questions right on each quiz show but that’s part of the challenge, so to speak. Unfortunately, the team we didn’t want to win Only Connect won. We didn’t want either UC team to succeed because they were both equally annoying. Neither will win the overall title, of that there is no doubt.

Tuesday 1 September 2009

This morning I assisted in marking entrance exams. It never ceases to amaze me the poor standard of English and Maths on display from some would-be candidates. Today’s crop weren’t too bad.

My first proper gym workout in ten days isn’t too deadly: 10 minutes on the bike, 1500m/7 minutes on the rowing machine and 10 minutes walking on the treadmill. Normally I do the treadmill before the rowing machine but I thought I’d ‘mix it up’ again. Today’s gym music of choice was The Chemical Brothers “hits” album.

To be continued...