The art of slow

Slowness has many merits. The deliberate attempt to experience each moment fully takes a degree of concentration that we are not familiar with as we rush through our busy days.

My belle-mère and I sauntered down to Clements, picked up a couple of cappuccinos and strolled round to the local park. Sitting in the evening sun, I had to lend J my sunglasses as the sun’s rays were low on the horizon. Young children teetered about the grass shepherded by their parents. One youngster was ignoring the fancy toy car, but his dad continued to operate the radio controls.

As we left the park, at a gentle pace of course, infants on bicycles overtook us on the downhill slope, one with stabilisers and one without. Their excitement was enjoyable, but we remained sedate and continued with our homeward stroll.



One bike good, two bikes better

The backup bike is making a weird clunking noise. I suspect it’s the bottom bracket, but what do I know? Austin has been keeping me pedalling ever since I moved to Belfast. His bicycle workshop is a hive of activity and a great place to discuss all manner of things.

Luckily I have the ladybike to ride and the 12 speed gears work fine on that bike, so hills should be a bit easier to climb. Although with my new svelte physique, I’m fairly nippy on inclines.

The GP is impressed with my blood sugar level – I scored a 48. My target to aim for was 75 – where less is more. Iced buns all round!

Donegal in the dark

We arrived as the sun was going down

That is my excuse for not figuring out how to switch the mains fusebox on. We spent a pleasant evening in the local hotel watching smartly dressed young women gather for what appeared to be a reunion do.

Eventually the country music looped recording wore us down and my foot started tapping. One glass of Jameson’s and it was time to try out the new torch on our way to bed.

Donegal weekend

The anticipation of a weekend break in Donegal is delicious.This is the first chance we have had this summer to stay for any length of time in my mother-in-law’s house near Falcarragh.

I went to retrieve the not stolen bike this morning. Needless to say, things did not go smoothly. It started well enough as I stepped out from Great Victoria Station dressed in shorts, short rain coat in vivid green and sandals. I scouted the area around the Harp bar and didn’t have to look too far to find the ladybike.

Releasing the bike from its Kryptonite lock I sensed  that something was hampering the rear wheel. Sure enough, the brake blocks had misaligned and had a tight grip on the rim. Ten minutes of wrestling with spanner and allen keys to free the offending brake block, then i had to give up.

Taxi to Austin’s Bicycle Workshop and then on to work…not a great start to A level results day.