The morning of Fathers Day was very enjoyably spent watching the incredible spectacle that is Giffords Circus. Tweedy was endearing, funny and loved by all the children (as usual) rather than worrying, creepy and weird (as is more normal for clowns). The kids loved Keith, his pet iron, and the adults loved the folded banana trick. The acrobats and the trapeze were heart-stoppingly impressive.
The afternoon was spent on my bike – a thirty miler along familiar roads, the only aim being to set a few (quite a lot of, in the event) personal bests. I’d adjusted my brakes, so the rubbing was no longer an issue and I was able to press on unimpeded. I was hoping that Martin might join me, but he was a broken man after an epic bike ride the day before – but he did join me in the pub for a few medicinal muscle relaxants afterward.
And the best part? I got home and Sarah had cooked a beautiful roast leg of lamb with spuds, runner beans and gravy.
Heaven is made of days like these.