Spring
Not a bad weekend for the start of Spring. I went shopping in Easton on Saturday morning, bike and trailer, which is far more civilised than loading stuff up on my back as I usually do. Having your load on wheels behind you means that there's really very little extra strain: you use go more slowly uphill (not that there are any to speak of on that journey) and more gears, but as long as you don't run out of the latter, you can just enjoy the perfect weather and trundle on. Downside was that, by the time I got home, one of the trailer tyres was as flat as a thing.
Turns out the trailer, for some unknown reason, has tubeless tyres which is a PITA. Also: stupid, as the wheels are spoked and, on investigating, I find that the spoke ends have punched through the rubber seal strip round the rim in several places, which is likely my problem. I'm wondering if I'd get away with rubber solution and patches over the offending bits, which would save a lot of hassle.
Afternoon,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ramtops and I collaborated on a vat of chilli, beans having been on soak and boiled previously. It ended up in the slow cooker for the evening sans beans, those going in before we went to bed (after a rare evening just sitting and listening to what the Roku pulled out of the library). Torture through the night, of course; the smell was… extraordinary… when I went to the loo sometime in the early hours.
On Sunday there was more domesticity: I fixed up the spicing on the chilli, Mac made a load of Coriander Chicken, laundry was perpetrated, and I assisted in the construction of a pear and ginger crumble, half of which we ate (after a fifth of the chilli, and brown rice) in the evening while ranting at the attitudes of the Great British reality TV voting public who once again (on the dubious assumption that the whole thing isn't actually fixed up by the production company) voted out the competent, confident, unapologetic woman on Dancing on Ice as they have done so often (along with disposing of the Coloured Chaps don'tcha know) earlier in the series.
Now, Monday, and back to werk.
Turns out the trailer, for some unknown reason, has tubeless tyres which is a PITA. Also: stupid, as the wheels are spoked and, on investigating, I find that the spoke ends have punched through the rubber seal strip round the rim in several places, which is likely my problem. I'm wondering if I'd get away with rubber solution and patches over the offending bits, which would save a lot of hassle.
Afternoon,
ramtops and I collaborated on a vat of chilli, beans having been on soak and boiled previously. It ended up in the slow cooker for the evening sans beans, those going in before we went to bed (after a rare evening just sitting and listening to what the Roku pulled out of the library). Torture through the night, of course; the smell was… extraordinary… when I went to the loo sometime in the early hours.On Sunday there was more domesticity: I fixed up the spicing on the chilli, Mac made a load of Coriander Chicken, laundry was perpetrated, and I assisted in the construction of a pear and ginger crumble, half of which we ate (after a fifth of the chilli, and brown rice) in the evening while ranting at the attitudes of the Great British reality TV voting public who once again (on the dubious assumption that the whole thing isn't actually fixed up by the production company) voted out the competent, confident, unapologetic woman on Dancing on Ice as they have done so often (along with disposing of the Coloured Chaps don'tcha know) earlier in the series.
Now, Monday, and back to werk.