Posts Tagged ‘Podge’

How could anybody doubt that His Podgeness would not make the ride. He did but not without a couple of false starts as the trilogy of mishaps of the previous Sunday continued into a new Trilogy.

Having spent Saturday sprucing up his beloved Colnago and clearing all excess weight (Swiss Army Knife, scissors, the off multi tool, etc.), all was ready for the Sunday Training Ride. This was to be the biggest ride sol far with a massive from 40 to 50+ miles and so with some trepidation, His Podgeness along with Master Nicholas set off for the Library Car Park. As the rode in they espied Mike Howie (must get a better name for Mr Howie) whose initial greeting was hav you got an allan key? I’ve left mine at home and my saddle is at the wrong height. Master Nicholas was immediately despatched to source said tool to return with much haste. During this time Charles arrived and set up his 23 year old and looking all its age Peugeot mountain bike by which time Mr Howie was all set to go.

Just before the off however, His Podgeness did look down upon the Peugeot Mountain Bike and did decree that perhaps the steed was not really up to the job and suggested that perhaps a road bike, loaned from his own stable, would be more appropriate.

At the allotted time, the ‘famous’ four set off. “Arn’t we going the wrong way?” asked Mr Howie. “Don’t think so” said His Podgeness. Just then, there was a bang and the sound of escaping air emanating from one certain Colnago. With home being only half a mile away, they all set off to ‘Podge’s Towers’ to change the tube and set off again but then a brainwave was had. Why don’t we just change the back wheel altogether (just in case the wheel is at fault). Withe brainwave recognised, the wheel from the De Rosa was inserted into the Colnago and off they set: this time in the direction that Mr Howie believed to be the correct way.  But, the Colnago was slipping its gears and was unrideable and so after half a mile they returned to Podge’s Towers  to reinsert the back wheel back into the Tango and so, on the third attempt, they set off in the original direction which was as it happened the right direction.

After this series of false starts, all went well and although the Tango did occasionally clunk it’s gears, it was adequate for the day. The original intention was to head off through Little Bedwyn and then across to Kintbury, Newbury and then south to Whitchurch. Having lost 45 minutes through false starts though it was decided to just go for a ride and see where the roads went. Well, apart from looping around Newbury via Highclere, the ride went as planned. It was just after Highclere that the back wheel of Master Nicholas Colnago (yes, another Colnago) started to develop a horrid rattle although, while off putting didn’t ‘seem to affect’ the performance. And so, the four continued to a crossroads where Mr Howie said “here my friends, we turn right back on to the original route”. “Oh bother” said His Podgeness, “this takes up Watership”, “Yep” said My Howie, “but then, you did put it in the route Podge”. “Drat” said His Podgeness. And off they set, down then up, and up, and up and up until Hid Podgeness once again revised the ‘Push Bike’. Once at the top however, it was down hill virtually al the way to Whitchurch through some of the most amazing countryside. Then it was time to turn north and head for home towards the dreaded Faccombe Hill. This was where Mr Howie’s gears started to clunk and click whenever he needed to find just one more lower gear (his Podgeness had run out of gears well before 🙂 ). It was then that we realised and recognised the irony. On this ride were three state of the art bicycles made of the latest carbon fibre with the snazziest wheels and best indexed gears on the market and the only bike that was ‘sound as a pound’ was the 23 year old  Peugeot Mountain Bike.

Ando so, with pride just a little dented and newly found respect for the elder of the bike world, they all made their way to Downgate Club Hut for their well earned , now traditional, end of ride drink during which all carbon bikes were hidden, in shame, beneath the only bike that held out though the whole ride. But at least they all made the 52 miles.

Next week, who know but all did agree that the 16th would be the Great Western Sportive to which all would attend. Yeah.

Go Podge, Go

Tom Mix – Tom’s tricks – Chopsticks – In a fix – Number 6.

In tts form the number 6 is a continuous curve without angle, without line. It is the total love. It is almost spiral, it is on the point of going towards the infinity.

6 is also the number of the indecision and the choice that is required.

6 is also the number of jars in which the water was transformed into wine by Jesus at the wedding of Cana.

But, as you’ll probably have guessed, to His Podgeness, 6 represents:

6 more sleeps to go,
6 more sleeps to cruising,
6 more more sleeps till the fat big feller Gets on that boat,
With his bird, and her boy,
6 more sleeps to cruising

I’m so excited, I could just sing:

Ladies and gentlemen, this is His Podgeness
Welcoming you aboard the A34 Express,
To Southampton Cruise Terminal,
We will be driving at one heck of a rate of knots,
Though at a ground speed not greater than 70 miles per hour,
Refreshments will be served at Hedge End, so;
Kindly tie up your safety belts,
Sit back and settle into the state of great joy & happiness, cos: –

Whooo, I’m going to The Fiord’s;
Whooo, I’m crossing the Great North Sea;
Whooo, I’m going there with me girl friend;
Whooo, a Cruising we’ll all be.

I don’t want to be a Commuter all my life;
I’ve seen too much of Railways, day and night;
So, sail away on P&O Cruise Lines;
I’ll dump the car, so take me far;

I look all around, and I see seven ships sent,
It looks like being one Grand Event
Lets sail away on P&O Cruise Lines;
I’ll dump the car, so take me far;

Whooo, I’m going to The Fiord’s.
Yada Yada

I’m floundering now, the excitements getting to me….. Oooooooooohhhh.

The number for today is 7, and just for today, the number is also 1.

For the Indians in the prairie and the “Pueblo” Indians, the number 7 represents the cosmic coordinate of the man.

The dice symbolises the 7: the dice itself, 1, having 6 faces.

For the Indians in the prairie and the “Pueblo” Indians, the number 7 represents the cosmic coordinate of the man.

The number 7 also means ‘Red 7’ of the Red Arrows

For His Podgeness, the number 7 means:

7 more sleeps to go;

7 more sleeps to cruising;

7 more sleeps till the big fella gets on that boat,

with his bird and her boy;

7 more sleeps to cruising.

As for Number 1!

Well just think, this time in 1 week, I will most likely have been up before even the cows got up (I don’t actually have any cows but you get my meaning), and certainly before the Oceana and the Adonia, Arcadia, Aurora, Azura, Oriana & Ventura arrives in Port: bags and satchels will be lined up ready for dispersal across two cars (yes, we really are taking two cars) and i’ll be starving. The plan is to brunch at M&S Hedge End before the final push to the Cruise Terminal.

Now, serious question: Do I need open toed sandals without socks or close toed sandals with socks for Norway? Will I need a Parka?

Oooooh, I’m sooooo Excited.

Possibly, I’m too excited as for the last 72 hours I’ve been suffering with Pharyngitis and am now floating in a cloud of analgesics (Paracetamol, Codeine and Ibuprofen) 🙂 Hopefully I’ll be back on all cylinders tomorrow.

The number 9 is seen as the number of the man, as a numeral symbol of his gestation (nine months).

The number 9 is the expression of “the power of the Holy Spirit”, according to Etchegoyen.

The freemasons have made the number 9 the eternal number of human immortality.

The number 9 number was considered as sacred in Egypt and in Greece.

To His Podgeness however, the Number 9 simply means:

9 more sleeps to go;
9 more sleeps to cruising;
9 more sleeps till the big fella gets on that boat,
with his bird and her boy;
9 more sleeps to cruising.

And after that 9th sleep, there shall be much rejoicing and coming together of all P&O’s l_u_v_e_r_l_y cruise ships and I, His Podgeness, will be one of the chosen ones who will be joining the historic celebrations, along of course with She Who Must be Obeyed. 😉 plus of course, many many others.

Today, I will be venturing into the loft / roof-space / attic, to retrieve the many cases and carriers that I just know we’ll need. As a minimum, I reckon we’ll need 2 full size suit cases, 2 medium size suitcases, 1 hard shell suit carrier, 2 ruck sacks, 2 (bulging at the seams) camera bags, and a couple of carry on bags (hand luggage). within these items there will be at least 7 hand bags with, each no doubt, matching shoe’s and of course some serious shopping bags with good strong handles. 😉

The preparations are now in full swing.

I know, where have I been? It’s been a long time since I promised to reveal all about how I fell in the river. Truth is, I’ve been distracted on other things.

My original intention was to give a blow by account of the jubilee weekend and the remainder of that week but on reflection, that might be just a little bit too boring. So, the short version is:

Monday arrived with a fairly bright start and knowing that we had the jubilee concert coming up in the evening this was to be the day when the garden was to be attacked. First up was the bed by the river, a spot both Debbie and I are growing to love as it develops.

The Raging Torrents

The Raging Torrents

anyway, there I was, tugging at some particularly truculent weed (a stinging nettle) when the next thing I know, rather than looking down at the ground, I’m looking across the bed, then I’m looking at the top of the gazebo then I’m looking at the treetops, as I fell / tumbled into the raging torrents of The Shalbourne Brook (see above).
Fortunately, Debbie was there to ‘save’ me from drowning. “Kevin, Kevin” she said, “grab my hand” she said, “you could have drowned’ she said as she pulled me out of the 18 inches of water and probably just as much mud.  Quickly, she makes me sit down on the patio and makes me take off my shoes and socks. Then she has the temerity to suggest I take off my trousers (while her Mum is standing there). I think not. I did roll up my trouser leg however to reveal some nasty bashes where my leg and had caught the edge of bank. As it happened, so did my side as well. Both were very painful. “Ouch” said I (loose translation), ‘That hurt” said I (loose translation). “I think I’ve probably chipped a bone and cracked a rib or two” said I. “Oh stop being a drama queen” said Debbie, “Man up and deal with it” said Debbie (may not have been her exact words: i’m just employing literary license ;-)).

Anyway, I get cleaned up and rested for the remainder of the day (had an early night), ‘manned up’ and got on with things. The trouble is, while the legs eased up, the pain in my side worsened and my breathing got quite bad until in the end I had to go and see the vet. She examined me and told me to start taking steroids and antibiotics and I should go for an x-ray to check for broken ribs (I tried telling her [the Vet] that I’d probably punctured my spleen but she was having none of that :-)).

Another 7-days on and I still have a pain my side but my breathing is easier but now my throat feels like there a dozen rose thorns stuck in it. But right now, I just don’t care, cos in 10 sleeps time, I’m sailing off into the sunset on P&O’s Oceana as part of their 175th Birthday Grand Event.

In the meantime, the weeds continue to grow :-(.