Sunday, June 19, 2005

Whoosh! Was that the weekend? It flashed by and I hardly missed any of it through sleep.

I picked up the minibus after work on Friday. I was a little bit nervous as I manouevred it out onto a very busy rush-hour Spring Bank and was quite thankful that the traffic was moving at a fairly sedate place as I struggled with the controls ( seems the last hirer had a liking for Galaxy - I found Radio 2 after a couple of traffic lights and 3 major roundabouts).

The Lyke Wake Walkers arrived by 9pm, most of them having sloped off home at noon apparently to get some shut-eye - nobody had told me! but I had wondered why I was seeing all their clients on a Friday afternoon! My minibus was soon loaded up and I reversed it between Neil's imposing and incredibly narrow for such a big property's gates and we were headed north, Neil navigating. We got news half-way up the A19 that Sam had been evicted - jubilation turned to regret as we heard that we were missing Davina in a black bikini.

After an unplanned detour around York ( I think Neil was thinking of his drunken meanderings after a night pre-finals) we landed on a dark hillside and waved off our intrepid band. The next 15 hours passed in a whirlwind of twisty country lanes, 3:1 gradients, boiling kettles, a deer, numerous rabbits, the odd hedgehog and randy frog, and a delifightful family of stoats. We picked up a handful of weary walkers along the way and I managed to suffer third degree burns to my shoulders. The 5 that finished the gruelling 40 mile challenge were euphoric, especially when presented with chilled beer and fiery chilli. It had been a marathon for all of us and I longed for my bed.

So you'll understand that the first thing I did as I arrived home was jump under the shower, slap on some lipstick and sequins and head back out in less than 45 minutes to a Grand Ball. I'd learned only the day before that I was to be seated next to a poor man who was either going to be bored with tales of mammoth blisters or watch my head loll ever closer to my soup.

I managed to control my neck muscles sufficiently to keep the Minestrone out of my hair and even had a bit of a jig about the dancefloor. Conversation flowed and I stayed the course, equal to walking 40 miles in 15 hours in my book - I finally collapsed into my neglected bed at 3.30am, some 44 hours after vacating it. I can only think that all these hours spent apparently unproductively staring at a monitor have been great training.

I've spent most of today rubbing chilled aftersun cream into my glowing shoulders, dodging the rays as I hung out the washing and only ventured out to take my Dad his cards and presents when the sun was well and truly obscured by menacing thunder clouds. I turned down 2 offers of drinks and one chance to whizz around on the back of a motorbike - there's only so much excitement a girl can take in one weekend.


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