Last weekend a mammoth trip up to Liverpool to visit my mum, who's in hospital. Out of the 48 hours, I think something like 16 of them were spent in the car. Not at all my idea of fun. Highlights included my forgetting my mum's front door key, fortunately realised around half an hour into the journey. I turned around to get it, but there was an hour gone. Also, Tomtom routed us right past some air show at RAF Fairford, so we sat hardly moving for 45 minutes trying to get around Swindon. And yes, this is the wizzy Tomtom which is meant to be aware of traffic situations...
Still, at the end of it all my mother is recouperating well after her operation, so much so that she was irritating me by the time we left (which is normal). But arriving back home at 10:30pm Sunday I felt totally drained, even with a couple of pre-10pm bedtimes since I still feel knackered.
I've told my mum I won't be visiting this weekend, and definitely want to get out somewhere walking, hopefully get some Purbeck sea air in my lungs.
Still following the Tour de France every night, Contador looks to have it sewn up but I don't think he's done his reputation any good in the process. In yesterday's climb he dropped Kloden (his team mate), shows he is riding only for himself. Armstrong, on the other hand, may not even get onto the podium but will come out of this tour with his reputation far enhanced. For all his seven wins, I never really warmed to Armstrong until this year, and there must be others like me.
Still travelling up to London every day, Alice just broke up from school a couple of days ago. She won a prize at Sports Day - unbelievable I know but one of the other mums took a photograph to prove it!