Some readers may remember a few weeks back I started a blog by talking about the possibility of somebody riding a bike over a piece of glass and puncturing a tyre. It then developed into a speculative piece about the guy who threw the beer bottle and the girl who was amused by it and how they ended up in bed together and both died horrible deaths.
On Friday morning in the rain I rode to work for the first time on my new bike seat post. On Wednesday afternoon my bike seat had failed. If anyone wants to ask how that occurs I can explain later.
As the second lot of driving rain hit while I was in the last kilometre to work on that Friday morning I saw too late a broken glass bottle of Pure Blonde in the bike lane. I rode over it and heard a crack.
When I got to work I noticed nothing problemmatic. I checked the tyre and it was fine.
End of the day though and the tyre was flat as. I removed it and checked the tyre had no more glass poking through and changed it and pumped it back up again but was working at cross-purposes to the puncture in the tube. I must have replaced the punctured tube with the same punctured tube.
I started again and ensured the new tube went in by throwing the old one far away. It pumped up much more quickly this time but as I packed up my gear I heard a hiss and checked the tyre again and it was flat already. I wont relay my words but there was a staccato stream of short syllables.
So I called a taxi and rode home wearing wet lycra in a cramped and cold taxi with my dirty and soaking bag on my lap.
I would have checked the online news for details of the unusual deaths of two youths by drunken broken bottle induced sexual misadventure but thanks to the Adelaide Advertiser's paywall (with free limited access by subscription) I couldnt do that easily and so will take two new tyres and two new tubes to work on Wednesday instead.
Monday 5 August 2013
Puns
After 4 months of warming and feeding and watering and building and mulching and clipping and feeding our chickens - Eleanor and Mabel and Rosie - they ran up to my daughter and I after we'd arrived back from the shops. They were clucking away like they were proud as punch. It seemed as though they had laid an egg. I checked the nesting box but found nothing.
Maybe they had just been excited to see us. We had lunch and put away the shopping and read some books.
At about three in the afternoon I was outside and saw something in the grass. A brown egg speckled white. One of them had laid an egg in the middle of the yard. I thought I'd better check the box and found another. Two eggs. No wonder they were tickled pink.
So, now we are starting to get into eggs. The three chickens are starting to grow up.
About to leave the nest.
Fly the coop.
Spread their wings.
Not wanting to fall fowl of anyone's sensibilities, but we didnt even have to egg them on.
Wattle be next?
Struggling a bit now, I'll need to use a fine-toothed comb. (That was a stretch.)
That's it.
Maybe they had just been excited to see us. We had lunch and put away the shopping and read some books.
At about three in the afternoon I was outside and saw something in the grass. A brown egg speckled white. One of them had laid an egg in the middle of the yard. I thought I'd better check the box and found another. Two eggs. No wonder they were tickled pink.
So, now we are starting to get into eggs. The three chickens are starting to grow up.
About to leave the nest.
Fly the coop.
Spread their wings.
Not wanting to fall fowl of anyone's sensibilities, but we didnt even have to egg them on.
Wattle be next?
Struggling a bit now, I'll need to use a fine-toothed comb. (That was a stretch.)
That's it.
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