So, I should really stop going away at the weekend and coming back too tired to upload these… But here we are, weeks 18+19. They’ve not been good weeks for photographs…
Monday of the first week, we had our piping in the garden fixed, which means all the rubbish piping that was ripped out has been left to make our garden even more attractive… One day it will be nice, but for now, and the foreseeable future, it’s looking like a building site.
Fortunately, there were plenty of cakes left over from the party to keep my spirits up.
I decided to do a bit of cooking, after being given my weight in mushrooms by Mum. I laid the table nicely, bought posh red wine (and drank leftover Archers alcopops myself), though it was very difficult to photograph without getting the garden in the picture!
I made Mushroom Ragout with aromatic polenta, which was actually quite easy and quite fun to cook. Usually I hate cooking, but it wasn’t the sort of dish where you’re waiting forever for things to happen – while the mushrooms cooked down, you were busy making the polenta, so it kept me busy.
The Boyfriend said it looked like a river of poo on scrambled egg, but he helped himself to seconds, so I guess it didn’t taste like one.
We were away all weekend at a family do for one of the Boyfriend’s extended family. They live up north, so it was a long car ride to get there and back. I totally forgot to take any photos, as I was feeling a bit sleep deprived, and not really in the partying mood. We did have a colourful treat when we got back though – our rose bush had bloomed 🙂
Photo taking throughout week 19 didn’t go too well either. I got a few good nights sleep, but with the Boyfriend on lates, we didn’t really do much, besides the already discussed I Date. The next interesting thing that happened was Mr T’s birthday. He arrived to his own party late, drunk, and then had to put up a gazebo. It was great entertainment. After that I got too drunk, I mean, I was having too much fun to take any more photos.
Which brings us to today. Despite dancing my heart out until about 11 last night (not that late, I know, but it was really energetic dancing) I was up and ready for the triathlon challenge. The swimming went fine, but my bike riding was slightly hampered by the fact I haven’t ridden a bike in about 6 years. I know it’s something you never really forget, but my confidence wasn’t great, nor was my stamina, and the ride ended with me failing to bump up a (tiny) curb and falling onto the pavement with quite a bang.
My leg took the worst of it. My elbow wasn’t looking too good either, though the photos don’t really do either scrape justice. The Boyfriend, ever the sympathetic, on inspecting my elbow said, ‘Ooo, that looks really sore… no, wait, that’s just your eczema.’ I guess that means I’ll live.
I’m just glad I was wearing a helmet, or my face would not be looking too good right now. I had to duck out of the running after that, as I was both too shattered and too wobbly to really carry on, but I did get back on the bike and cycle the last little bit home. An achievement to be proud of, I think, though I probably won’t be thinking the same thing when I wake up stiff as a board tomorrow!