Hmm. Since Friday, it’s been a busy few days with a Cycling Embassy AGM to organise and attend, cycling infrastructure (including many fine bollards) to admire, trains to catch, work to do, gardening to catch up with, and sunshine to sit in. As a result, the number of punctures I have mended is none,* meaning the Brompton has become my main bike for trips to Papershop village as well as down to the village (at least the Community Council had fun trying it out after yesterday’s meeting). On the one hand, in the weather we’ve been enjoying of late, it’s a fine thing to ride out on an early summer morning, upright between the flowering banks of cow parsley with my paper in the basket of the Brompton – it’s only about 5 minutes slower than on my other bike, at least while there’s no real headwind. On the other hand, every day I don’t fix the punctures on my main bike brings me a day closer to the point when the situation becomes normal, the Brompton becomes my main bike and my main bike becomes something which lives in the shed. At which point I will inevitably suffer a puncture on the Brompton too and end up with no working bikes.
Something will undoubtedly be done about it – in fact I fully intend to fix them both tonight. Only not right at this minute with sunshine still to be enjoyed, a bench to be sat on, and ford- and tadpole-monitoring duties to be done…
Maybe tomorrow, then.
*I did swallow my feminist pride and offer to iron the other half’s shirts if he’d do it for me, but he turned me down.