A Strange Weekend

It's been a funny old weekend.  LB finished school for the summer on Friday, and as I mentioned in another post, had a couple of friends to stay that night for a sleepover.  Early the next morning OH headed off to the airport to ride a stage of the Tour de France in the French Alps and later that day LB headed off to a barbecue at her friend's house for the remainder of the afternoon and evening.

It felt strange to have been abandoned by everyone (save for the dog). I took her for a walk in a different park as I dropped LB off. There was a huge music festival going on there, so it was very busy, people everywhere.

I decided that as I hadn't managed to visit the allotment this week due to cleaning the house, I'd use the time to do that, so off I headed.  I didn't take any photos this time around, I just got on with what needed doing.  I dug up another bed of potatoes and cut down the broad bean plants. (Leaving the roots insitu to feed the soil - some are starting to regrow and flower, so I might get a small late crop afterall) I also harvested most of the last of the lettuce, as it was starting to just about go over and then watered everything as best I could with leaking watering cans! Then I came home.

It was just me for supper (and the dog, of course) and then I headed out to walk her in another part of the same park before collecting LB from her friend's house.  This particular side of the park was literally littered with balloons and empty small Nitrous oxide (laughing gas) canisters, the new legal high of choice for young people, as far as I can gather.  It was quite a depressing sight. What's wrong with a few drinks?  I even saw quite a few youngsters taking it quite publicly.  I don't mean to sound boring and old, which I probably do, but I just don't get it.  It did make me fear for what will be all the rage when LB starts going out to music festivals.  Having said this, it is possibly less harmful than some of the illegal drugs out there. I can't honestly say I know enough about it to judge, but having never been someone who likes to get high on anything other than alcohol or dancing, it kind of leaves me cold.

Anyway, it was good to get home. I was a little surprised and concerned that OH hadn't called to say how he was getting on.  At 10.30 pm the phone call came.  He'd had a disastrous day, missed his flight in the morning, got put on a standby flight to another city, had to make his way from there to the original airport to pick up his hire car, all with his bike in tow which he couldn't leave anywhere. It was nearly midnight where he was and it was the first chance he'd got to call.  Bless him.  It was a relief that he'd finally got to where he needed to be though.

Sunday, he was riding a grueling stage with four climbs in the Alps, along with thousands of other amateur riders (whilst we had a lazy afternoon at home!).  He called later in the evening to say he'd completed it, but it took him 10 hours of riding.  I was relieved to hear that he'd had no mishaps and hadn't collapsed with exhaustion.  He was waiting on a pizza in a restaurant. His first proper food of the day.  He was looking forward to coming home.