The Road To Home Is Paved With Troublesome Interventions

As expected England can't take advantage of a useful position and concede a first innings lead of 29 to Australia. Think that's about that then, the Aussies never get bowled out cheaply twice in a row.

A pre-Juggernaut intimate holding session then onto my bike, au-natural again. As I struggle with my toe clips at a set of traffic lights, I get overtaken by a chap on a straight handle bar commuter bike. I track him for the next few miles. I catch him easily on the hills but he pulls away from me on the downs. I don't know why. I don't try and go past him, as I don't want it turning into a race and him coming flying past me. Tussles with fellow cyclists apart, it is also windy again and I seem to be cycling into a perpetual head wind, consequently I record a slow time, slower than Wednesday even.

Once at work I find that our unwanted guests have been moved on, although not very far, they’ve just moved across Pride Park to another car park!

My squash opponent is complaining of a hangover, for God's sake we were only drinking mild, 3.7% mild at that. He'll have to stick to the orange juice. It's his age you know.

L was brave with her morning run; she went round the pond. Can be a bit quite round there and a bit creepy but suppose she was trying to avoid the park benches. The collie should protect her but when he's got his nose in something good I'm not sure he'd notice if someone grabbed her. They don't help out on the paper round today because Son is in no hurry, he doesn't have to be in school until noon.

Activity outside my office window. We’re being fenced in, it’s like they’re putting the Berlin Wall up! It really reinforces the fact that it is a bit like being in a prison camp out here. Assume it’s to stop the Gypsies coming back but can’t see how it’s going to work; people are going to have to get in and out to park. Perhaps we’re getting watchtowers and armed guards as well.

Later on, I go downstairs and the whole office is going da da da da da, you know Chelsea Daggering. The track of the year apparently? I tip them off about the Sunshine Underground and my album of the year 'Raise The Alarm'. Their office now rocks to a rather tinny version (dodgy laptop speakers) of 'Commercial Breakdown'. Feel I've done my bit for society today.

Nightmare biking home. The wind doesn't seem to be as favourable to me as it was on Wednesday and it joins forces with various other incidents to slow me down. First I catch another, different person on a straight handle bar commuter bike. Seems to be a lot of them about today. The person has long blonde hair and a shapely rear. Female? It looks likely but I'm taking nothing for granted, you can never be too sure. They've not got a great bike and have a huge pack on their back which must be slowing them down but they are wearing almost full Lycra cycling kit including overshoes, although a crap helmet. Big decision time, the last thing I want to do is go blasting past only for them to up the ante and coming speeding past me on the climb out of Borrowash, leaving me a wasted, heaving wreck, in the gutter somewhere. Particularly if it’s a girl! However 'she' is so slow, doing around 10kph, that I have to go for it. I get out the saddle and overtake. I hope it's not a trap. When I reach the next roundabout I look back and it looks as if I have opened a safe gap. When I next look back, 10 very fast miles later, there is no sign of them, Phew! Good job because now I'm knackered.

One ordeal over but another manifests itself. As I do the nice downhill bit into Risley the car in front of me slows down and puts its hazards on. It cruises down the hill at just the wrong speed, slow enough to hold me up but fast enough to prevent me over taking it. Totally ruins my descent. Finally it grinds to a halt when the roads next goes uphill, presumably stranded. Suppose I should stop to offer assistance but no chance.

Then finally more hassle going up the cycle path to the Balloon Wood junction. This big, dare I say fat, guy on at mountain bike is weaving from side to side in an alarming fashion, blocking the entire cycle path. Its annoying because it's the only bit of cycle path on my entire route that's worth using. It is slightly uphill but it's really not that bad. When I shout to him 'Excuse Me' his wobbling just gets worse, so I bump down the curb and go onto the road to get past him, better to voluntarily take the road than be shunted onto it.

As I strip off my sweaty cycle shorts L is, regrettably, again not there to witness it, her and Daughter have gone to the 5.00 showing of Chicago. At 7.30 Doggo and I drive into town to pick them up.

Once home we get ready to take Doggo for a walk... to the pub. Unfortunately by now it is raining so we decide to skip it. Son's TV has just gone bang so he has taken up resident in the lounge with Zelda and his Gamecube. Amazingly Daughter has let him, she doesn't normally concede possession of the TV so easily, and she disappears upstairs. Not sure that particular truce will last the weekend. So L and I retire to the bedroom with a bottle of red and the dog. Perhaps I should get Son to occupy the lounge more often as I manage to get L sloshed, seduce her and jump her, twice. Then she goes to sleep wearing her sexy vest and knickers, now that is tempting fate.