Happy Chocolate Bunny egg fest thingy

So, a mixed bag this Easter. Although, I guess that if your not actually nailed to a cross by a bunch of angry Romans you should think of it as a win. I spent much of last week cleaning as my dad & his wife were coming to stay. Given that Anna spends most of the weekend cleaning you may wonder why I do this. However, many moons ago when they came to my flat in Worcester they actually refused to stay & booked into a B&B, such was its state. So now I clean before they clean.
It was wonderful weather. Ideal for gardening. So we decided to decorate. The fairy princess room was gutted. No more frills & frippery. My father is possibly the least patient man on the planet, so working with him is a nightmare. However, it does get things done. And because we work hard we feel no guilt about our calorie intake. Beer and food. Food and Beer. I put on half a stone in three days.
I also failed to retain my master baker title in the Crowns hot cross bun competition. There were only four entries & I was unplaced. By a long way. Even the birds snubbed my efforts. Ah well.
On Sunday they left. My joy at there arrival is only equalled by my joy at their departure. This feeling is entirely mutual. So I waved them off & went into work. Or rather I didn’t. For some reason the booking in system failed & my name was not in the book. The floor was locked. Security would not let me in. I had a choice. I could try and phone someone in authority. Who would authorise security to call out the bloke who can unlock the 9th floor. Or go home. It’s a sunny Easter Sunday. Guess what I did.
After a lazy Sunday I got up on Monday & got out the bike. I had arranged to meet Denis at a local horse race. It was only 10 ish miles so I decided I would cycle out there. Hmm. Now I expect a certain amount of pain on my first trip of the year. But my winter of indolence has told more than usual. After about four miles I realised that I was in a spot of bother. The knee was giving me hell and , more worryingly, I seemed unable to breath enough & felt like I was turning purple. Discretion being the better part of valour I gave up & headed for home. It was the right decision. I was very glad to get back to chez rich, where I collapsed onto the couch expecting a heart attack at any moment. Fortunately it did not happen. But I didn’t get to the pub. Indeed, I couldn’t even bring myself to change channels on the TV and actually sat through carry on up the jungle. I was not best pleased. So, tonight after work I shall do a couple of gentle miles, with a view to getting back into some sort of shape. Maybe.