Making Time

"I would say we are all guilty, at times of just letting life get in the way". What do I mean by that statement?
Well, it's just when you get so wrapped up in what is going on in your life. A life that at times you feel you have no control over. You have commitments here, there and everywhere. Everyone wants their pound of flesh from you, and you have constant adverts pushed down your throat at every turn. Then you are told what you can and can't say, and from a young age you are taught to conform and just fit in.

And breathe...

Lee &John

Yesterday for a few hours I had the best time with a couple of my favourite people, my mates John & Lee. We haven't been out cycling together for yonks, and it's because of the after-mentioned "Life" I guess. What with one thing and another, work, health, time and probably at least on my behalf laziness.

A shot by John

John's Cube eBike

So following a brief too and fro of messaging one another, I was well happy that the 3 Amigos would ride once more, even if it wasn't going to be one of our longest adventures.
The morning started with John arriving down at my house, a little introduction to wee Neville, and then we rode over to Lee's. As soon as we all got together the fun began. Heckling one another, laughing, talking about bikes and adventures, sharing memories and basically putting the world to rights.

Lee is becoming quite the oracle of bike set-up and following assisting me with my shoe cleat and riding position, went on to help adjust John's saddle and offer some advice on seat height and foot position upon his bike.

Soon we all headed off, on what was a glorious morning, with the sun shining, the birds singing and 3 blokes pulling the piss out of one another, and of course, anything we felt worthy of having the piss ripped out of upon our ride out.

Today I guess I was an unelected route planner and decided to head over towards Craghead and down towards Fox & Parrot Wood. I wasn't sure if Lee had ever been that way before, and as Lee the proverbial mountain goat was going to be heading off  "Somewhere West", as he put it, on an overnighter in full-on "Stealth mode-avoiding detection", and bivvy out. A local loop, where we could end up in just the right place for Lee to continue. So this route I had planned in my head seemed appropriate.

Lee decided to bring along his camera equipment and shoot some footage. Like myself, he enjoys documenting his adventures and sharing his memories on YouTube. Lee is also quite the accomplished self-taught musician and composer, having produced some amazing stuff. Every now and again, we would stop for a natter and take a drink on board, as wow it was a scorcher—the hottest May on record, I think accordingh to the news. Lee would go on to direct both John and me for his video.

Me of course being the professional actor having now been in a film all about me, well I didn't need any encouragement, and hit all my cues...Lol. I hope you do know I'm jesting... I'm fucking useless and just spout loads of crap, however, sometimes it's really funny crap and I love it when John & Lee chuckle along.

Ickle bridge over stream

It was proper funny when after taking one clip, Lee played it back and I heard him chuckling on camera, he sounded just like Muttley from the Whacky Races cartoon.Riding through and down Fox & Parrot Wood, more photo opportunities and good craic. 

I was on ages trying to figure out where Macro is on my Goole Pixel 9 pro

I say you boys

Love the colour of me bike

Then climbing a short steep hill and then traversing a field where there was a kind of single track. We came out at a farm at Grange Villa, which had a public access route that would lead us into West Pelton, coming out near to where the Jingling Gate restaurant used to be. I see they are building some rather nice houses there now.

What I like about the houses is the view that whoever lives there would have, well as long as they don't build more out the back in the nearby field.
 

We were spoilt today when I think back, however, each of us took on board just how fortunate and grateful we were in some of the countryside we viewed, commenting on the beautiful meadow field, with its flowers and the woods we were approaching, which was yon side of Beamish.

Lee directing himself "Hello, Hello"

As we rode into the woods, it was pretty, with the bright sunshine breaking through the canopy of the trees and dappling the ground beneath us. It suddenly dawned on you, well at least in my mind, " Life doesn't get much better than this". Pain and discomfort out of the window, as I am caught up in the moment, the natural beauty surrounding me, doing one of my favourite things, riding my bike, with the sound of the leaves and twigs crunching and snapping, and of course sharing this with two people that I think the world of. 

Omg! That got a bit mushy there... Lol.

Me on my Santa Cruz Heckler Sl CC

More footage for Lee's video and also some brief local knowledge of what I knew about the area. When I say brief I mean miniscule as I actually don't know much at all, other than that there is an unusual, cone-shaped structure made from what looks like slate. I guess it's a sculpture-type thing. I didn't know how long it's been there or who built it, it's just there. Oh and whilst in the woods the all to familar sound of John "Aww man I don't beluieve it I have dog shit all over me tyre".

John at the sculpture type thing

Glenn at the sculpture

John with a newly discovered Poo stick

Riding through and down the wood we eventually came down to the footpath, which is near the Chester bypass, near Beamish, and I had the next bit of our route in my head.
A cross over the road, and heading down past Beamish Open Air Museum, which I believe is the biggest museum in Europe, I may be wrong and just made that up.

All the way down the bank past the Museums Farm and once down by Beamish Hall we turned Right and got on another trail that would lead us up into Beamish woods, and the rather large pond at the top. 
As we rode up Lee gathering more footage we stopped to admire some bluebells.

Pretty

Pretty Bluebells 

Whilst John was taking snaps of these Lee and I began discussing how as you get older your priorities can change. I am very much on the same level mindset-wise as Lee, in that we both just want to escape,

" The so-called rat race". We feel over the years forced into a corner of what is expected of us, when in reality it makes us miserable. I think that is why cycling, and getting out in nature, either alone or with trusted friends makes such a huge difference. It allows us time to clear our minds, reflect, reset and recharge. Always in the hope that one day we will realise a dream that we can escape and live the life we truly want.

For me my idea is simple, as few commitments as possible, get up each day with no real plans, go where I want, when I want and legally of course do what I want. Everyone by now knows my dream of a house in Scotland, however recently my overactive imagination has been thinking a campervan is the way to go. Get off grid, and have my bike along. I even suggested a hair-brained plan to my dad. Sell our house, buy some land, ideally in a wood, this would be home base if you like. Then get a static caravan, and a campervan, and from there just bugger off and lead a life of complete freedom, meeting folk from all over and each day having a new adventure. I think if my dad had been a bit younger he would have maybe gone along with the flow. I hope in the future I can gather the courage to follow through on my dreams. I hope opportunity comes knocking at my door as it has in the past. Who knows, that is what is exciting about life I guess.

Pond

Another brief stop at the pond, where we watched fish quickly come to the surface and make rippling effects on the glass-like water. The sun shining on the pond and reflected a myriad of flared colours. We could see ducks paddling way off near the reed beds, and then all of a sudden "Harry the Heron" flew in although he looked majestic in flight, his landing in a tree branch looked clumsy, as he bounced up and down, then became static and fixed in place. Not moving like some sort of a statue. Oh, and I'm not sure if his name is even Harry. I mean it could be Bob or Kevin, for all I know, it's just what I called him upon seeing him. No pics, unfortunately, as my phone couldn't focus that far away.

Next, a ride up the hill and onto another dusty trail, eventualluy coming out at a back road, which we followed as if heading towards Sunnyside, however, we turned off onto another trail way before then. This trail led us to Birkenhead, where the secret gardens and coffee shop is situated. A quick scan of the narrow country lane, which as I recall I tipped a small Morris Marina pickup over into a field when I first passed my car test. It had been raining heavily and I just lost the light back end, then went up and over a grass verge and through a barbed wire fence. Fortunately, the fence stopped my little pickup from going onto its roof. The most expensive part of that mishap was hiring a wagon with a Hi-Ab to lift my car back onto its wheels.  As I recall it only cost me £8 quid at the scrap yard for parts to repair the car.

Anyhoo as we continued on the opposite side of the lane on yet another dusty trail, as I was chatting to Lee, a huge fly went in my gob, and I proceeded to get it stuck right in the back of my throat. I had to stop and then started trying to hack it up. Ewww! I fucking hate it when that happens. So the remainder of my ride home from that point was of me making these awful sounds, which I guess if you are reading this and have ever swallowed a fly will understand what it's like and sounds like, "hack fuckety hack".

Reaching Tanfield Railway and the car park opposite, this is where John & I said our farewell to Lee. Lee not knowing exactly where he was going other than West and John and I heading back home, via the back road at Beamish, cutting down another piece of dusty and fly-strewn trail, where I kept my gob firmly closed. Then we rode back up by Beamish Museum and up Beamish Hills.

I said my goodbyes to John, with a passing comment, man I can remember a ride up this bank into No Place way back with another friend, Carl. It must have been in 2008. Shortly after that ride, I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. A good few years later I required chemotherapy, and just lately I have been for a checkup as I've had this sore area under my Right arm, with a small lump.

I'm not worried though, and certainly wasn't going to let past ill health, or what may lie in the future get me down, well not at that point, as I had had the most wonderful morning just being with my mates, doing the simplest of things. Nee worries or stress and that is what each and every one of us needs in our lives.

The ride home was easy. I headed up another trail at No Place that would lead me down the Famous Farmers Trail. I had this huge sense of excitement, you see I knew I would get to return to my new wee little mate Neville.

Wor Neville

As I got home my Dad and Nev were in the front garden, my Dad having propped an old gate sideways to keep Nev in. Our front door was open and as I opened the back door little Nev came bouling through the house and ran out to greet me. What a mint little pup he is. I could see the glee in his eyes, his little smiley face as if he was laughing, and at that moment in time I felt so very fortunate. My dad is on the mend and I had shared some time with friends old and now both new.

Okay been writing that real early, it's now 6:15 am time to get up and go and say hello to my ickle buddy, Neville

Big thankyou to John & Lee, with special thanks to John for sharing his pictures.

Say Hello to my little friend!

It has been almost two years to the day since we lost Baxter, our much beloved English Bull Terrier. Baxter had developed kidney failure, and it was so unexpected when we had to assist him out of his pain. As anyone who loves dogs knows, they are not merely dogs, they are so much more, a huge part of your family,  your life, and their unconditional love is second to none.    

To be perfectly honest although the pain of losing a best friend does improve over time I don't think you truly ever get over the loss. What tends to happen is you start reminiscing over all the good times and adventures you may have had and this brings a smile to your face.

The biggest drawback of dog ownership is that they do not live even half as long as we would like them to. That said I have done a bit of thinking on this and the way I figure is that if you can offer a dog a loving home, where he/she can live out their days, well you cannot ask for any more than that, as for a dog, its life will go by at a far different pace to its human companion, hopefully in the knowledge that it is one of the most precious things ever.

Neville & Glenn

So anyhoo, after a fair few months of pondering, "Should I or should I not" get another dog, my dad not being entirely convinced. I decided to bite the bullet and make the decision for both of us. Now I will be honest here, I wanted another English Bull Terrier; however, the cost of the breed has skyrocketed, and no matter how much I like the breed, call me tight, there was no way I was going to be paying upward of £2,000 to £3,000. I also looked at another breed I quite fancied, which was an Australian Cattle Dog, however, there weren't too many of these for sale, plus also expensive and upon research, they needed a lot of exercise and activities to keep them on the straight and narrow.

This is when I decided to start looking at a much smaller type of dog and researched Border Terriers. The size of the wee dogs, their appearance and character appealed to me, and so began looking.

All I said to Ern was, "Okay, I have arranged a viewing of a dog, over at Sunderland", and that was pretty much it. My dad, bless him, who has just come out of the hospital after being poorly with pneumonia, just went along with my plan, something he has done a lot more regularly over the years, instead of trying to convince me otherwise. I know a lot of people will say, and no doubt have "A very special Father". For me this is the case without a sdhadow of a doubt. I am so fortunate to have the Dad I have in my life. I am not just blowing his trumpet here, the number of people I get commenting on what an amazing, great, or special dad I have is unreal. Whether it is neighbours, people I bump into who know my dad or even like when he was in the hospital just the other week and the nurses commented "Your dad is mint, we don't want him to go, he can stay a few more days, as it's been a real pleasure having him on the ward".

Anyhoo I had arranged to pop over to Sunderland to go and view this 4-month-old Grizzle boy on Friday, however as I finished work on Wednesday I decided to send Joanne the owner a quick text message to let her know I was free and could call over anytime. Joanne got straight back in touch and said "Oh you can come over anytime", so following a quick cuppa, Ern and I were off over to Sunderland, following the Sat Nav directions.

We found the house with nee worries and outside were greeted by Joannes's friendly partner, who was in his backyard. I stepped out of Ern's car and greeted the friendly lad, and he replied, "Oh, are you here about the dog"? "Yes" I replied, and he then got up from where he was sitting and said, "Hold on a minute, he is just out back, I will go and get him for you". Well, when the lad returned holding this pup to his chest and then handed him to me, I could tell straight away what a friendly and characterful little chap he was. The Little dog instantly began wagging its small tail and, leaning in as it was half over my shoulder, nibbling my ears and trying to give me kisses. I think that was all the proof I needed that we would get on, and he would be coming home to become my best mate.

Neville & The Ern

My dad and I were then invited into the gentleman's house, and I got to meet Joanne. This couple were extremely friendly and offered good advice, informing me about the pup and his microchip transfer, the Kennel Club registration and whatnot. At the time, I was still holding the wee fella and asked my dad to take over, to which my dad replied, "Okay, I will go and take him and sit in our car". I was thinking "Bloody Hell man Ern I haven't even paid for him yet", so I could tell my dad was also enamoured by this little energetic bundle of fur.

Nev & My Dad

Upon paying for the puppy and getting a written receipt along with the relevant paperwork, I said my goodbyes, thanking Joanne and her partner, and then we were off shopping for puppy stuff. I had seen a small kind of dog house advertised at B&Q that I thought it would be a lot more suitable for under our stairs than the large crate that Baxter used to sleep in. On the drive from Sunderland over to Washington, I informed my dad that I already had a name picked out for our little lad, "Neville" I got the name from one of my favourite authors, Neville Goddard, and you know what, it just fits, with his personality and his looks. Whilst in the car, Neville was all over the shop, wriggling and trying to explore, with the odd jump to try and lick my nose or nibble my ears.

Upon arrival at B&Q, I popped the small collar and leash on that had been kindly provided, and whilst my dad went into the shop, I stood outside with Neville, whilst he bounced all over and  began running running circles on his lead. At least four separate people came over and greeted him, saying what a lovely puppy he looked, and I explained, "Ooh, I have just got him, we haven't even been home yet". I ended up having to order the dog house online as they don't keep them in-store. So it was back in the car, and now a drive to Durham and the Arnison Centre to Pets at Home.

Nev & Glenn

At Pets at Home the staff were all over Neville and one of the store assistants was super helpful in assisting me set up the app on my phone so that `I could get various discounts. We bought a new bed, a bag of puppy food, a Knotty bear, a puppy Nyla bone, oh and two small matching bowls. Then it was time for home.

Upon arrival back at the Johnstone residence, we introduced Neville to his new home. He was super excited and had a good sniff about, then like a good lad used our garden to go to the toilet. Neville also followed either my Dad or myself everywhere, he loves company and interacting with his new humans.

What a playful and friendly little bloke Neville is. I have already got in the habit of looking all around me before stepping off, as he is a lot smaller than what I am used to. As night approached, my Dad had unfolded the large crate and positioned it under our stairs. I popped Neville's new bed and mattress in and had to pretty much keep him held in place as I closed the door, then I placed a blanket over the cage to darken it and keep any drafts out. Man, Nev does not like being put in the crate. He instantly started crying, a range of squeaks and funny barks, actually betraying his small size. Neville's crying went on for some time, however, I left him, as I knew he wouldn't get used to his alone time andwhat would be eventually his safe space if I kept pandering to his outcries. Eventually, he settled down, and I didn't hear a peep out of him until this morning when I went to let him out. Bless him, his bed was wet, but he was so happy to see me at around 6:00 am this morning. I swear he was laughing and smiling, he has such an expressive little face, with what looks like a wee beard.

Letting Nev out, he immediately went into the garden for a wee and then at about 7:00 am I gave him some breakfast and we went for a little tootle around the block, where he was very well-behaved and fairly inquisitive. Getting back home after the short walk, we played some. Neville is brilliant in that you can throw his little new toy bone or his bear, and he will bring them back, so that you can throw them all over again. He also has one of the softest mouths and is very gentle. 

At just after 9:00 am, my friend John came down for me and we headed to our other friend, Lee. A long-awaited mini bike adventure was in store, so I had to leave Nev in his crate, as Ern had gone to get some wood to make some new gates for the front and back of our yards, and my son Kyle had just come in from a night shift. Anyhoo, Kyle rang me about an hour or so into my ride, asking when I was coming back. "What's the Matter like?" I asked. "Oh, Neville is crying", he said and "I'm trying to get some sleep". About fifteen minutes later, another call from wor, Kyle, " It's ok, I have got up and I am looking after Neville". Wor Kyle sat out in the front garden with Nev, and as I was returning home, I had this warm, fuzzy feeling, thinking I had this new thing in my life, weird, yet lovely. When I returned well I spent all day with him.

 

Neville is having a breather

Neville looks tired, I thinks

Neville is a clever little lad, he isn't perfectly house trained, so a few accidents, however in about a day of having him he will now pretty much sit on command. In fact as soon as he sees my hand reach into my pocket he sits and waits. I love his little face, especially his eyebrows as they turn up quizzically at times as if he is thinking of something.

It has been lovely to see my Dad interacting with Neville too, we had a lovely walk this evening, my dad holding Nevill's leash and directing him. We didn't go too far, just from ours over to Burnside and back. My dad has bought Nev an extendable leader and it was really funny watching him tear around the field on his little legs in typical puppy style, without a care in the world.

I haven't been able to get a great deal of photos, Bloody Neville won't stay still long enough.

Thoughts that go through my head when I am out for a ride.

On the farmers trail

All in all, it has been a pretty good day today. Especially as my dad is now home from hospital. You see, about ten days ago, my dad wasn't well at all. He has had a terrible cough which has been going on for months, and over the weekend leading up to the 14th of April, two days before my fifty-seventh birthday, he looked and sounded dreadful. 

On the Sunday evening before I went to bed, I was really firm with my dad, saying, "Tomorrow you must make an appointment to see a Doctor". My dad promised he would. I was working part-time on Monday, and as I drove home, I got an unexpected phone call (Don't worry I have hands-free in my car). It was wor, Kyle, "Grandad has been admitted to  hospital, I am with him now, they are carrying out tests", he went on to say. "Okay, I am coming straight through", I replied.

Upon getting to the University Hospital of North Durham and not being able to find a parking space, let alone a disabled space, I became more and more stressed and irate. Muttering to myself "I fucking hate this hospital, it's so stupid, not fit for purpose" along with a string of other tirades. You know where I ended up having to park? Fucking Greggs over at Framwellgate Moor. In fact, I parked there two days running, asking permission from the friendly staff and buying half the shop as I felt guilty.

Before I move on, I may as well stop on the parking front. One day, whilst I had entered the carpark and drove around to see if there was an available disabled spot, I saw that this lady was pulling out. I pulled just past her with the intention of then reversing in. Guess what? This fat useless fucker nipped in just as the lady pulled out. I was fuming, so I reversed back, beeped my horn as I wound my window down and said to the driver, "Did you not see I had asked the lady if she was coming out? What do you think I was parked there with my indicator on for? To which this rather obese bald bloke angrily got out of his car and said "What do you fucking think I have been waiting around there for?'. There was a quick back and forth of words, some of which I don't think I should write down here, but put it this way, one of them rhymed with "Hunt". I then had to drive back around and, fortunately, found a spot in the paid car park. Isn't it funny how you can think of a hundred more things to say that would be a lot more entertaining once you are away from a situation? For example, I may have said " You fat fuck the walk would do you good", or " Keep your hair on". I couldn't believe it when one of the fat bloke's retorts was "Errrr you old git", I mean, how did he know I was about to turn 57?

Apart from the parking, the staff over at Durham were fantastic with my dad, and by all accounts, they didn't want him to leave as he was a "star patient". So following a diagnosis of pneumonia and being on steroids, antibiotics and a fair amount of oxygen, I am pleased to say I picked my dad up for his release on Wednesday, so that is ten days he had been in. Thank God he is home and on the mend because I hate going food shopping with a passion. I may only have one leg, but I go around like the Tasmanian Devil, just chucking stuff in me basket in a "Get me out of here" fashion.

This morning, around 08:00, I thought I would pamper my dear old dad, so I made him a sausage and bacon sandwich, with a nice hot cup of coffee and brought it up to his bedroom. The pair of us then just chilled, in fact, I had a bit tinker on with the book I was writing, and then it was time for me to go and get my haircut. My dad kindly offered to take me, so I took him up on this. Man, my hair is going grey, yes, I know it is partly due to my age, however, these steroids I have been on and off since last year have played havoc with my follicles. My hair has been dropping out, and even my eyebrows are now almost all white. I feel proper old when I look in the mirror, and yet my mental age well, that is still somewhere in I would say early twenties. I guess I could dye my bits n bobs, it may make me feel better; however, then I ask myself, am I really that vain?

Coming out of the hairdresser's and having left my phone in dad's car, when I checked it, I saw that there was a new post on Facebook, written by my dad. Upon reading it, I had to swallow back the tears, as my dear old Pops had written some very kind words. Call me a big softie, I don't mind. I readily admit I can be a sensitive soul, part of which is due to certain traumatic experiences throughout life that I will always carry with me.

Upon arriving back home, I rushed to get in and have a shower. I hate the feeling when I have just had my hair cut and all the prickly little hairs are on my clothing, like around my neck, irritating me, "Ahhh, that's better".

Straight out of the shower, a quick dry, some gel in my hair, and I got to look my best as I intended, going out on my bike to attempt to get a picture to pop on the front of my aforementioned book. It didn't take me long at all to get ready, quite an achievement for me, as usually I am always searching for some specific article of mountain bike clothing or equipment.

Happy to be out

Off on my Santa Cruz Heckler,  I headed, going so far up the farmer's trail, before stopping for a photo opportunity. I have written about the farmer's trail

extensively in my book, so I thought it might make for an interesting image. I had this idea of a picture which was taken from one I had seen Sean Connery as James Bond, standing next to his Aston Martin DB5. It was shot in black & white, and I thought a similar picture would look jolly good on the front cover of my book. I mean, I am neither Sean Connery nor James Bond, but hey, people could see I rode a bike and had a unique sporting prosthetic.

Think I like this B&W for the front cover of  my book

Setting off again up the farmer's trail, I met a friendly man walking his dog, and we began having a chat about nothing in particular. We spoke for some time as we went from the back end of East Stanley all the way down into No Place, then we said our goodbyes, and I headed off down towards Beamish. Reaching Beamish, I cut down onto the C2C, passing the JCB cows and headed all the way up past Stanley and went along to Annfield Plain. I then cut in at the Morrison through the gates and fences near the power station. Gutted here as I clicked my brand new Endura jersey on some damn thorn bushes as I tried to squeeze between them and the gate post. Man, it was really, really overgrown in this area, more so than I have ever seen it, with all the whiny bushes out in bloom with yellow flowers and those dagger-like thorns.

Santa Cruz Heckler SL CC

Had to come past all the whiny bushes

Riding onto Chapman Wells where the foot and mouth cows were buried, I took a detour through another one of those large swivel-like gates, reaching my bike over the barbed wire fence. I then set up my GoPro, which seemed to take ages, to try and capture some "On the bike Shots", as I passed my camera. Total fail, I realised upon looking at the footage when I got home. All I had was about 12 images of a large tree, no Glenn or his bike insight - delete.

Over by the pond at Chapman Wells

Picturesque

I did manage to get some more shots over by the pond at Champpman Wells. On the approach to the pond at Quakies, my nose was running as it had been from the start, and me coughing, with a sense of my chest and lungs burning from this chest infection, plus with being so unfit. I suddenly became aware of an awful smell of dog shit. I stopped inspected my bike, and did that cursory thing where you try to look around at your back, just in case some of the mucky stuff had splashed up, but I couldn't see any. I rode a little further, but the smell was still there. Now I know I have been bad with my guts, but I was sure I hadn't shat myself. Never mind, by the time I reached the pond and then set off again, the smell had gone, maybe it was on one of my tyres, and the dusty trail had removed it.

Riding around, and it had been some time since my overactive imagination began whirring and words started popping into my head, somewhat like a poem of today's adventure. I have tried to recall what I was thinking and then wrote this.

  Just a little adventure

An Endless supply of drugs for an unknown disease. A string of antibiotics for a chesty wheeze.

A trip to the barbers to get my head sharpened in the same old style. It's now all old and grey, just like a vintage car its seen a fair few miles.

A ride out on my bike to clear my mind.Venturing around the same old loops searching for something new to find.

A dripping, snotty nose, wiped upon my sleeve. There goes that sodding cough again, that sounds more like a bark.

I then notice this smell that has been hanging around for at least the last half mile. I stop and check for dog shit to see if it's on my arse tyre or possiblyeven my shoe.

No horrible brown mucky fudge, but I curse nonetheless. Why do people just leave dog crap dotted around, it's even hanging in those little bags in trees.

I jump back aboard my steed and continue upon my ride. Until I come to a large pond and go to investigate and take a good few interesting snaps.

I love to be out in nature, to just relax and empty my mind. My reverie is broken, though, by the sound of some honking geese who land with an almighty splash.

Time to start off once again, I'm so pleased my ankle is holding up. It's now time for a climb up the farmer's trail, where once there was a bath.

Now at the top and heading along to Wagtail Lane, where the windmills are turning so slow. I love to hear their swooshing sound, and see the shadows of their blades.

It's now not too far from home, and a choice I have to make. Cut down by South Moor Golf Course or go the long way around.

Oh, and before I move on, I must say a huge thank you to my good, in fact, no, great mate Lee for his help in sorting out my cleats on my shoes and helping me to get in a much more comfortable position when riding my bike. Today, I didn't suffer from Achilles pain when out on the trails. I can feel a slight twinge now that I am sitting down typing this, however, it's nothing like the pain I experienced way back in December of last year when I did something to my ankle and heel.  So Lee, if you are reading this, thanks, and I will be out for a few rides with you hopefully soon.

Once at home, a quick change, and it was almost time for my weekly guitar lesson with my tutor, Tom. Tonight's session, man, I just couldn't get my head around. Sometimes I really, really do think I am as thick as two short planks. The simplest of things, and don't get me wrong, music and music theory are anything but simple, especially when you are trying to learn later in life, but at times things just go "Pheww" straight over my head, no matter how hard I concentrate or try. I am still enjoying trying, so, not about to quit. In fact, I am pretty proud that I can play along to some of my favourite songs using this app I have on my phone, called Chord AI.    

 

Once Tom had left, I began sorting out the photographs  I had taken, editing them and even placing text on the picture I had chosen to be my front cover. As for my book, I entrusted it to some friends & colleagues from work, so that they could have a read-through and help with any grammar, and punctuation and also offer feedback as to whether it is naff, interesting, or if it gets you hooked so that you want to delve deeper into my journey. So far, I have received some pretty positive feedback, and my cousin David has been an absolute superstar in practically editing, proofreading and offering advice. So a huge thank you to wor David, Sam, Jennifer, Krista,  Laura, wor Kyles's girlfriend, who both my dad and I have yet to meet, and who I haven't heard any feedback from as yet...Maybe she has read the book and now knows what a complete madman I am. Oh, and of course, The Ern, who helped me recall stories and also had the odd chuckle, so I knew I was going in the right direction.

Thank you, one and all.

Anyhoo, here is the final front cover image I have decided to go with. I also hopefully can include an inside cover that has some meaning that people will understand once the book is published. The book is 81,848 words long with 23 chapters, and I will let everyone know its pricing in the three formats I intend to have it come out in, so ebook, paperback and hardback. I wanted the hardback version as well, it will be like a sort of keepsake. Once published, I suppose I could add an author to my limited list of talents.

Lost2bFound - Glenn Johnstone

Okay, bye-bye for now.