Rubbish...Or how I haven't posted yet

Well have survived the summer in London...Yes bombings...Worse: weather... When you come back from Canada and people act like you been to a tropical clime because you have some colour (ie. You do not appear to have come from beneath a rock or from the lightless depths of the ocean) you know you are dealing with something entirely different.

I got married this summer...and was told immediately afterwards by a helpful colleague..."Don't worry you will only fight for the first year and then it gets better"...And so to prophesy I address my ire! It is amazing, actually how as you are getting to know one another and you realise that it is expensive now to break up - how relaxed you get about bad moods, bitching and looking as rough as a badger's *rse in front of your partner! But with all the stuff that went on around the time we got married and how my husband stepped up to the plate (my mother died 16 hours after we had a special service for her to witness at the hospital) it seems to me that I have chosen well...no matter how much his hanging clothing on the top of the door like we are living in a slum gets on my t*ts!

It is interesting that part of my mourning is to walk around feeling hopelessly grumpy a lot of the time. I would appreciate a bit of crying and moaning instead...but this "being strong" stuff is very tiring...Also what is with all the peeing...Part of my mourning seems to be getting up 2 - 4 times a night for a waz! I mean by morning I am exhausted and is it any wonder that I am fit to kill when woken up for the morning ritual of "why did you move my stuff?"

To balance out the previous kvetching I will now discuss our wedding-present-money-mountain-bikes:

First a poem:

Oh beautiful bike
why do you mock me so
I thought I was a jock
but gym-fit and up hill both ways
soon gave me saddle sores
pity me at the coming weekend
make it easy and downhill all the way!

So far it has been up and down and up and up on our bikes. We live near the racecourse at Epsom so we go biking along the bridle paths there....it is up both ways and this is not just for the effect of this telling....The only part of Epsom Downs that is down is the race course. Mud...Horse poop and lots and lots of bramblely stuff...Big grin! Loving it...And mostly I don't winge so my husband is enjoying it too...Plus...The dough-like bit on my back known as my ass is now doing what dough should...And is rising! No sh*t...It is now no longer a uni-thigh rising directly up from my leg!