Monday, October 17, 2005

The Final Push To The Sum 

I think I’ve located the problem under the bonnet of my Toyota Nosebleed. I left a cheese sandwich in there, sometime around Easter, I think. It’s now a crispy fried, steam-toasted cheese sandwich. It’s going to be a job for an expert, unfortunately. If they can manage to scrape it off the fan thingy that’s supposed to whiz round and keep the engine thingy cool, I’ll tell you what it tasted like. I’ve booked it in on Friday to see a chef.

On Sunday, me and Girlfriend went for a blast of fresh air in The Dales. We walked up Pen-y-Ghent, which was a good re-introduction after a bit of a lapse on the going up hills front.
Here are some trees.
And this, shimmering invitingly in the distance like a shiny footpath, is the Pennine Way.

It was a beautiful day. Pretty blustery on the top - you wouldn’t want to hang around eating your egg for longer than absolutely necessary - but as we descended it was more like a peaceful summer evening, warm and calm and still. All you could hear was the sound of sheep baa-ing, children laughing in the distance, and the gentle rub of leather against blister.

I’ve been quietly willing Girlfriend to buy some proper new fangled techno-boots for ages. I think we could finally be making a break through. Mine are like slippers, I tell her, toasty and cosy and lovely. Why deny yourself the sensory pleasures that await you in Millets?

If only she could just overcome the psychological hurdle that, at a purely technical level, hiking boots are a type of shoe.

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