You join me at the end of a day that feels unproductive. I mean, I did run 13.1 miles, but it still feels unproductive as after that I have been to Waitrose, cooked two meals but done bugger all it feels.
Pete did so well, however our need to run to music meant he missed my enthusiastic cheers. He ran in about 1.56, which is so good for his first race. He will be a formidable runner with more experience, he is tall and long. He has such long legs, he could get a long old stride.
I didn’t enjoy anything about the day really, the route is grim. Through industrial old Attercliffe and Atlas, into town, along the back streets, through the only nice bit along Ecclesall Road (albeit lined with some of the most stupid spectators known to man, actually stood in the road preventing runners from running more than two by two at miles 6 and 7) to the city centre then back through Atlas and Attercliffe. Dull dull dull.
What’s worse is that I’m mentally scarred after this weekend. Firstly there was the drunken man shouting at a cashpoint then taking a dump on the footpath on a balmy Friday night near Wilkinsons and Ethel Austin. In such a low rent part of the city. I thought it couldn’t get any worse, and there it was. A sight no one should see. Then today? A woman runs off the road near the bottom of Fitzwilliam Street, onto the footpath, drops her shorts and has a wee on the floor. Bottom and front bottom on show to the general public. My pace was quick at this time, I wasn’t lingering, but I saw more than a gay man should ever choose to see.
I have spent the rest of the day trying to cleanse by bleaching my eyes. Not really. But I could have done. I’m glad I didn’t save my baking quota for today, rather for yesterday. I would have never managed it, I’m not tired per se, but not enough energy to have baked up a storm. I mean, I barely listened to any of EP on Sunday today. Enough to hear Gerard Butler singing as the Phantom of the Opera. Horrendous. It reminded me of Kevin McKidd singing in the musical episode of Greys Anatomy- all round, a mistake.
I have watched bits of an episode of Ina today. Now you will have noticed a thread through my blogging of me mocking that marvellous recipe, tomato kabobs. Now I wish to let you know I love Ina Garten, love her. She is fabulous, and today she showed how certain recipes are pervasive through the series. Pesto, mac and cheese, you have seen them a lot. Dangerous variations, mac and cheese with sliced tomato, mac and blue cheese, mac and cheese and pancetta, separate them. Now I won’t mock this. If you look through Jamie Oliver’s books, the same recipe for risotto tends to be in them all. The basic recipe then leads to variations, with herbs, meats, veggies which make them very different. Prawn peas and mint can make it summery, butternut squash and salty smoked bacon can make it autumnal. So there you go, I can see why basic recipes can carry on through. But I do think added sliced tomato and breadcrumbs is a bit of a slim variation. But Ina, due to the fact you have given me a fabulous standard recipe for creamy mac and cheese I doth tip my cap to you.
I have eaten my body weight today. Finally cracked open my Easter egg from Pete. Not only did he eat the majority of the eggs bought by Becky for us, he also helped scoff this egg, in spite of the fact my name was piped on the front. Is nothing sacred any more? Seemingly not.
I’m currently watching a further episode of The Hunks on Living. Seriously, it’s just horrendous. It’s just the sort of thing mothers will watch whilst their sons are at university and lead to blind panic. All of them are dirty shaggers. I love the fact the gay was trying to counsel some poor bird who liked the worst shagger of the lot, and made a hash job of it by giving her false hope at the end when it was all a bit too real. Comedy gold.
Right, bed then work in the morning. Worst part of the week, this Sunday evening feeling. I’m pouting right now!
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