Mission accomplished. I’ve been out rollerblading. And how. It was fun, and, I suspect, good for me (judging from the way my muscles are registering their protest at being woken up and made to work). Linda knew this route that she’s gone round a couple of times before, so we thought we might as well do that one (the drawback to setting off at random is that there is no telling what the state of the roads is going to be like, and decent paving is pretty essential). I’ve amused myself with scanning maps to show you the route, so you can all go “Wow!” or “Pft, that’s nothing!” depending on your inclination. We set off from Linda’s, marked 1, and made our way along the pink line. When we got to the point marked 2, we agreed that it would be pretty much a waste of time for me to go the rest of the way back down to Linda’s, so we split up. At that point I was on a roll (literally) so I thought I’d just go on a little further, a few more blocks or so, before I changed to sandals and got the bus home. Well, I obviously ended up blading all the way home, where I arrived with my face a nice lobstery shade – and cursed the stairs all the way up.
Now for the monday mission, and then that second coat of paint for the table, and I will feel very smug indeed.
Voice on the tv: Frank Sinatra – New York, New York (he has momentarily drowned out J-Lo and LL who’ve been singing “Oh, my pride is all that I have – Pride is what you had, baby, not what you have” or whatever it is they sing (that’s what I hear) in my head all day and have been driving me mad)