It was my 48th birthday last weekend, and it was made very special by two young ladies. Firstly I had a visit from Eleanor , who I haven’t seen for ages, and is nearly one year old now. We went for a birthday picnic, and she entertained me with her antics. She’s a little showstopper. Secondly I was given a picture by the little known, yet incredibly talented young artist, Grace Allan. How is it that some impressionist artists can say so much with so little?
The West Midland Cyclo-cross league starts this weekend. This will be the first time in about 10 years that I won’t be riding, and I am gonna miss it, it’s the filthiest, friendliest, fastest, fun you can have through the winter. I wish all the riders good luck, and I’ll be along at some of the events to give support.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out where the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deed could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with dust and sweat and blood. At best, he knows the triumph of high achievement; if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.” Theodore Roosevelt
see ya out there soon,