An aching frame for Boxing Day morning.
I am but one house move away from a bloody stair lift.
I delicately limped down the stairs on Saturday morning, and then collapsed in the tea drinking chair for the best part of an hour.
Morris dancing was on the agenda for luncheon.
But balls to that.
We really couldn't face it to be honest.
And so instead Anna and I rolled out on the MTB's for the usual weekender route.
The aches and pains were worked off with each pedal rotation.
We clocked in a half-decent time, considering we were going around the reservoir on bloody clunky MTB's.
The scenery was pretty stunning.
It was high tide along the muddy banks of the Colne as we set out.
And then the Mersea and Stroud estuary was glistening in the midday sun as we made our way out towards the coast.
Every berry tree [?] was heavy with... berries.
I mean bloody heavy. I've never seen so many small red balls line the lanes as we went around the circuit.
We pulled in for a swim and freshen up on the way back.
Forty lethargic lengths, and then we arsed around in the spa.
We made it back to base just before the estuary wilds sunlight finally faded.
My butt collapsed.
It is full of water after a heavy few days of rain.
The wind blew my butt into the fence.
I tried to patch it all up with what remained of the daylight.
I'm not sure that my butt will stay standing overnight.
And then the aches and pains started once again.
Darts, football and Boxing Day BOOZE was the best cure for that.
Gonna be interesting tomorrow morning.
Oh yeah - I rediscovered the magic of Yello later in the evening.
What a band!