yen_powell

I refer to my granddaughters as GD1 and GD2 when speaking with anyone other than their parents, I can't use their given names seriously. I believe that a child's name should be chosen the same way as you do for a pet dog. Would you be okay to shout it out loudly in a public place if they run off? If you would it's fine.

For me it was learn or have a heart attack.

Ahh yes, you soon learn to clear it after a drop before restarting.

Perhaps an extra vest today.

Rode home from work with one less layer on and in flimsy motocross gloves with no heated grips on. It's like summer today, in February. Whilst at work I couldn't be bothered to put gloves on at all between sites. A nice man in the I.T. department loaded my sign design software for me, well I did it, he just put his password in at the critical moment because I'm not allowed any more. Test below.

Mine raced yesterday cycling up a hill, not a steep hill if you are walking, but every where is steep when I pedal. I thought I was going to clutch my chest and fall over at one point.

Pete, can you do a cockney accent and shout RUNAROUND NOW just before people switch votes?

The 'WHO STOLE MY ROLL OF LINO" pose

Wapping Old Stairs and some modern mudlarkers. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mudlark

I did do one day in the pissing rain, on small town tarmac roads covered in thin layers of slimy mud and occasional rainbow coloured oil slicks. This is when you ride very slowly, very very carefully and with your wedding tackle retracted to keep it from damage in a fall.

Yes, Michelin Desert tyres. I ran them at 15psi the whole time (with rim locks as well) and they never even squished much. In fact the morning after I got back I rode about 300 yards with my son on the back to take him to school without realising I had a rear puncture, seriously tough tyres. Still got them as souvenirs in the garage.

It's what I've just put out for tomorrow's recycling collection. You have to flatten them to get them in the clear sacks.

Photos of photos, so not great. My XS250, My 1st and 2nd GPz750 (yes, I am overtaking on the hard shoulder of the motorway), My first FJ1200, My first Africa Twin and my second Africa Twin (with shiny new knobbly tyres just before leaving for Morocco) And the back end of my CX500.

That's the leg with the length of steel pipe down it, in case someone tries to mug them.

I'll bet that those aren't the same keys, probably popped down the local Timpsons in Asda and had a few spares cut to use day to day. There is probably a spare key under a giant royal mat or plant pot just outside the main gate for late night returning staff who have forgotten their keys.

The 743 year old ceremony, carried out over 270,000 times by my reckoning. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2023/01/26/at-the-oldest-ceremony-in-the-world/

I went to a different town yesterday. Whilst walking through their town centre Co-Op I thought how thoughtful they were in that shop. All the spirits seem to come with a complementary plastic shot glass on top of the bottle.

Would you say that being on here for a while has changed your normal approach to greeting people?

I think I managed to dig a hole into the front room door, I remember the telling off more than the damage now. I also knocked a jar of jam off a shelf in the base shop, glass and goo everywhere, I had discovered by then that if you cried really loudly you were less likely to get smacked. This worked splendidly a few years later in England when I ground my push bike handlebar along the side of a Jaguar as I tried to squeeze past it as it drove into the garages. I also recall being bored whilst my parents were bowling. So when a bowling ball popped out of the return shoot, I pushed it back down.

Pater was a Snowdrop.... twice. He left after National Service then rejoined a few years later. Last time in he was a dog handler (not a crime to handle a dog in those days as long as you bought it dinner and got it inoculated). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RAF_slang#:~:text=Snowdrop – a nickname for personnel,hats that the RAFP wear.

You're joking, when you leave you not only have to tidy up and be inspected, but they have an inventory of what was there when you moved in and you pay for anything missing. I think there was some discrepancy over a floor scrubbing brush that got deducted from my Dad's wages.

Don't know if it is actually mine, but it's the same layout and street. Somewhere I have the door number on something my Mum wrote, seen that recently as well but can't recall. I thought they were all demolished a few years ago, but that video looks recent.

I know that when he isn't coughing his spuds up Pete likes an abandoned building. This is a house in Tedder Avenue in Germany where I lived as a small child. Despite leaving it when I was 5, I remember the rough layout, the attic and definitely the basement. My baby brother used to dangle down in one of those boingey baby harnesses from the front room/hall door frame, I called it his Scottish dancing. My Mum used to tell me that once when she had a row with my Dad she locked the door of the cellar whilst he was down there. When she calmed down and reopened it a few hours later she found him sitting in a comfy arm chair, drinking a bottle of beer and reading a book, bothered was he not!

I was shocked at how many sub forums it has now, I'm sure it was only a quarter of that all those years ago.