New Year, New Stuff

Young Neil Tween, for it was he, speculated on Twitter what a cheery blog from me would look like. Pay close attention, Mr Tween, because this is probably as close as you’re going to get to a cheery blog.

We have a new dishwasher. The old one gave up the ghost just before Christmas. I don’t think it could face another one of my tea mugs. They tend to get a little stained with whatever it is that makes tea brown. Tea, probably. Or tannins. Does that sound right? Tannins don’t have anything to do with tans but have something to do with wine and that’s always confused me. It’s one of the many reasons I never took up a Master of Wine qualification. More important at the time was the whole spit out the sample if you don’t want to get rat arsed at eleven in the morning on a work day thing.

So yes, we have a new dishwasher. Actually, can we go back to the tea mugs for a moment? I hate washing tea mugs. They never, ever get properly clean. I’ve often wanted to sit and sulk in a corner having failed to get all the brown gunk from the inside of my favourite tea mug. It doesn’t stop me using the mug because what you need after that sort of failure is a nice cup of tea. You don’t need to spit anything out when you have a nice cup of tea unless you are a tea taster. Imagine going to work as a tea taster and spending all day tasting tea and not getting even so much as a digestive with any of the dozens of cups of tea you have to spit out each day. I suppose you could chew the biccie and then spit it into a bin without swallowing it but that sounds like a waste of a McVitie’s to me. And then there’s the noise! The man from Dynorod made fewer slurping noises when his machines were clearing the drains last week.

So, this new dishwasher. I didn’t realise that you could get cups and glasses and plates and knives and forks and spoons and even pots and pans so clean. I take things out of it when it’s done its thing and I half expect to hear a ting, like in the adverts. I actually thought I heard a voiceover yesterday; “But everything sparkles!” it said, just a little too exuberantly. It’s only clean cutlery and glasswear after all. Consumerism, eh? It’s a sod. I need to salve my conscience a little so Water Aid is going to get a donation from me soon. I feel awkward about my shiny tablewear when there are people who still need to walk to a well and carry dirty water home with them.

And I have new shoes, New running shoes, anyway. They’re the same as my old running shoes, just half a size bigger because my feet are bigger now and you know what they say about men with bigger feet.

It’s true.

We do need bigger shoes and new socks. I’ve lost all my good running socks in the last couple of months. I need to break the new ones in because the chafing on my big toe on this morning’s run was a big of a bastard. Maybe fourteen miles in new shoes and socks was a bit of an error but I wanted to have a play in them. The shoes are good. They’re very light for a road shoe and I like them because of that. I spite of being light and exceptionally cheap, they’re very durable. These are in the Union Jack colours and I hope I’ll be able to do most of my road miles in them in the run up to Manchester. I might get another pair to race in on the day if they work well on the long runs.

So, there you go, Neil. One blog post from a cheery Rich. Will that do?

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