All week I've been looking forward to a good ride on my old Norton this afternoon, but this has just been blown out of the water. No, not by our glorious British summer weather, as I now tend to follow the dictum of a few German mates I met several years ago at the Manx GP.... "there is no bad weather, just bad clothes!"
This time my dear wife is to blame. Having agreed to have a sunday lunch before I set off I was presented with roast belly pork and crackling, apple sauce, mashed taties, runner beans, garden peas, spring cabbage and cauliflower cheese, followed by a bowl of lemon posset topped with blueberries.
As I sit here, with the top button on my trousers undone and my belt unbuckled, I can't help pondering if this would have been the outcome 30 years ago... no it wouldn't and the open road would have been calling me, but today all that seems to be calling me is the settee for a hours close bonding.
Is it me?
