Here is the final blog of our two-week holiday. It’s been great to be off work, and I think it’s safe to say that neither of us are exactly thrilled at the prospect of going back tomorrow; but as no major (in fact none full stop) lottery prizes have come our way, I don’t suppose we have a great deal of choice.
I’ve completed four challenges this past week. The final two were getting my head shaved, and climbing Roseberry Topping.
Our friend Dawn, who cuts hair for a living, agreed to shave my head—and in doing so, became the first person to cut (which includes “remove”) my hair since 1997. Seventeen years using one £35 pair of clippers... the equivalent of £2 a year for all my coiffeuring needs...
Some might say even that’s a tad too much.
Freshly shorn, I set off for Roseberry Topping on Friday. The North Face... I don’t mess about.
I did make it to the top, but I’ll readily admit it was steeper and tougher than I expected—and on the basis that discretion etc, I took a couple of breathers (but still pretended to look as if I was just taking in the view when someone passed). The truth was I was taking in oxygen by the lungful, but eventually I made it.
And I made it back down again. Quicker.
This morning, Elaine and I went to Gateshead to watch my younger daughter Rebecca take part in the Great North 10K. The weather was miserable, perfect for running, and Becca completed the course in an hour—an impressive effort given the lack of athletic genes available for her to inherit. For the record Becca finished 2,084th; 616th if you just count the female runners—and 1st if you ignore everyone that ran faster than her.
But the final word on a lovely fortnight must go to my darling wife Elaine. Earlier this afternoon, she was watching one of these crappy reality programmes when someone used the phrase “shabby chic”. I asked if she could explain the phrase...
And apparently, it’s “something that’s made to look older than it actually is... like my drawers...”
So now you know!
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