Forwards and occasionally sidewards – everyday musings of life

The Language of the Elusive

A mid-week dinner outing in Cirencester provided a baffling linguistic puzzle. We spent ten minutes trying to “decrypt” a menu that featured ‘Ceps’—which a quick digital search insisted were medical compression socks. The waiter, suppressing a smirk, informed us they were, in fact, mushrooms.

Midweek Soaking

As the dogs and I headed out for our “Daily Soaking.” We have reached a point where the local dog-walking community has submitted entirely to the Rain Gods. Owners have transformed into faceless columns of Gore-Tex and wellies, tugging half-drowned “pooches” through the mud.

The Stallion’s Return

Friday brought a curious twist of fate. The previous owner of the Stuttgart Stallion contacted the garage to ask if I would be interested in selling her back for a profit. Apparently, seller’s remorse is a powerful thing. I politely declined. One does not simply part with a V8 powerhouse that has proven its worth as a “Pewsey Pothole Dodgem.” She is not going back; she has found her forever stable.

The Saturday “Binge-Gym”

Saturday morning at the “Temple of Torture” was a lesson in humility. I am not sure if “binge-gym” is a recognised term, but the weekend warriors were out in force—lycra-clad bodies ripping up the treadmills and chaps in baggy T-shirts frantically trying to lift a week’s worth of iron in a single session.

I attempted to keep my cool, clattering a set of 20kg dumbbells together to look the part. I quickly realised—as my arms buckled and my composure evaporated—that I should have been lifting 20kg in total, not per arm. My biceps staged a catastrophic failure. I pretended I’d finished my set, waiting for a pair of giggly teenagers to relinquish the 10kg weights so I could reclaim my dignity (and my range of motion) when no one was watching.

A dry dog walk – no chance

Just as the Rain Gods finally granted a reprieve and the Wiltshire air turned suspiciously dry, the Border Collies decided that a lack of falling water was an oversight that required immediate correction. With a defiant plunge into the canal, they bypassed the mud only to opt for a full-body immersion in Kennet & Avon.

The Wry Outlook

As we head into a new week, the Village Hall committee is formed, the Porsche is staying put, and the “Unrestricted Life” continues to provide plenty of material for the observant.