The Befouled Weakly News
21 September 2008 Good morning on, surprisingly, a beautifully sunny day. After months of drab, dreary, rain-soaked days, the last couple of days of the week have been glorious. I guess this is the definition of an Indian summer – long may it last. Having said that, one can feel the approach of Autumn. Never mind that the evenings are drawing in and the leaves on some of the trees are already beginning to turn, in the mornings there is a rising mist and heavy dew so typical of autumn mornings. I shudder to think of it but I guess it won’t be long before we are into the damp, dreary, freezing days of winter. Doesn’t time fly when you are enjoying yourself! Yesterday we had a great day out. The weather was fantastic and I was contemplating a bike ride when Ms Playchute made precisely that suggestion. Then she remembered that her friend Vicky McCarthy had recently purchased a bike and they had discussed the possibility of riding together one day. So, she telephoned Vicky and we arranged to take our bikes over to Stratford and cycle down the Stratford-on-Avon Greenway, a disused railway line which has been converted into a smooth gravel walking and cycle path. As a disused railway line it is, naturally, quite level and made for a very pleasant “stroll” on a lovely, late morning/early afternoon. And, because of the fine weather, the whole of Stratford was out either riding their bikes, walking or exercising their children. I did wince on a couple of occasions when we came across mothers/fathers and/or grandparents, leaning over and pushing a toddler in a pedal car or trike or similar. With affection and nostalgia I recollected those fine days when Penny would walk miles and miles in a similarly perennially hunched position keeping one of our children in motion.
Soon after this gallant exploit, I was reluctantly compelled to don the mantle of the hero once again. As we reached Welford and turned down a lane to head back towards the Greenway, Vicky suffered a puncture of her back tyre and, although we had a pump, the tyre would not hold sufficient air so there was nothing for it; the girls would have to walk back into Welford to find a pub in which to await their rescue. Meanwhile, I would cycle back to Stratford, collect our car and return to Welford to effect their liberation. Fortunately, the Greenway was as smooth and level on the way back as it had been on the outward journey and their knight in shining lycra returned to collect the damsels in distress. Shakespeare surely could have made something out of that. The weather is so fine, I’m off out again. Love to you all, Two cannibals, a father and son, were elected by the tribe to go out and get something to eat. They walked deep into the jungle and waited by a path. Before long, a little old man came by. The son said, "Oh Dad, there's one!" "No," said the father. "There's not enough meat on that one to even feed the dogs. We'll just wait." A little while later, along came a very large man. The son said, "Hey dad, he's plenty big enough." "No," the father said. "We'd all die of a heart attack from the fat on that one. We'll just wait." About an hour later, an absolutely gorgeous woman came past them. The son said, "Now there's nothing wrong with that one, Dad. Let's eat her!" "No," said the father. "We will not eat her either." "Why not?" asked the son. "She's not too skinny, she's not too fat. She's just right!" "Right," the father replied. "We're going to take her back alive and eat your mother." A Texas rancher got in his pickup and drove to a neighboring ranch and knocked at the door. A young boy opened the door. "Is yer dad home?" the rancher asked. "No sir, he ain't," the boy replied. "He went into town." "Well," said the rancher, "is yer mom here?" "No, sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with dad." "How about your brother, Howard? Is he here?" "He went with mom and dad." The rancher stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself. "Is there anything I can do fer ya?" the boy asked politely. "I knows where all the tools are, if you want to borry one. Or maybe I could take message fer pa." "Well," said the rancher uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to yer dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant." "Whul," the boy said after considering that for a moment, "you would have to talk to pa about that. But if it helps you any, I know that pa charges $500 for the bull and $50 for the hog, but I have no idea how much he gets fer Howard." "I bet you think twice before you leave your wife alone at night," chided one man to the other. "I'll say." replied the second. "First, I have to think up a reason for going out. Second, I have to think up why she can't go with me." Back to Greg's Temporary Home Page
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The Greenway is a five mile stretch so most people walk or cycle down to its termination at Long Marston and then retrace their steps. However, there are a couple of circuits on quiet country lanes one can enjoy so I persuaded the girls to do a loop over to Welford on Avon and then rejoining the Greenway and back up to Stratford. At a couple of points along the path there are maps indicating the various circuits cyclists might enjoy and they are very conveniently coded with smiling or frowning faces. As you might deduce, the smiling faces indicate a level or downhill stretch of road; the frowning faces indicate a climb or incline of some description. There was a frown on the route we intended taking but I casually convinced the ladies that it couldn’t be much of an incline as the general area is fairly flat. Well, this frowning face should have add tears of despair and streams of perspiration as the incline was a significant, steep climb. I don’t want to brag (and I am, after all, the one amongst our trio who does the most cycling) but both the women had to get off their bikes and complete the climb on foot while I pedalled nonchalantly all the way to the top. Fortunately, that gave me a few minutes on my own at the top of the hill to admire the view and to recover – my heart must have been pounding at several hundred beats per minute, sweat was pouring off my beet-red face, I could barely breathe and my legs were on fire. Still, by the time the ladies reached the summit I recovered sufficiently to give the impression of being cool, calm and relaxed.