On Sunday morning I learnt that cider drinking leads to a hangover.
Top of the class for me...
That bloody hurt.
I stumbled around the flat for a bit, only to realise that the way to shake this off was for a lovely lido swim.
Some trips over to Lake Brockwell are easier than others.
Sunday morning was particularly painful.
I arrived just after 9:30am. Most of the other Icicles had already put their lengths in.
I spoke with David and Peter, trying to delay the inevitable.
In the end it was absolutely lovely of course.
Ten lengths was the aim; I was happy with my 12.
I cycled back to Sunny Stockwell with a clear head.
A bit blogging catching up from yesterday, and then I put on the gardening gloves.
There's not a lot to do at this time of the year. It's mainly picking up crisp packets that find their way on to my SW8 lavender lawn.
I swept up a pile leaves, and disturbed what was more of a medium sized snake than a garden worm.
And then out went the call of:
"To Brixton Rec!"
The Topcats were at the Ruffhouse home against Ipswich Hoops. It was lively old game, with the away team pulling away at the close.
I think I've got my basketball love back to the same levels for when we regulars at Crystal Palace for the London Towers.
I'd certainly rather watch basketball than professional football right now.
Sunday came to a close with a bit of school work to finish off for tomorrow, and then very early to bed, booze free.