going to the country

So there I was all primed and bursting with enthusiasm and a New Plan (ooooh! a New Plan!) when POW! I was struck down with a stupid germy infection and have spent the last two days wobbling feebly about, bleating I'm sick in plaintive tones, and lying down in my room with the door shut while J took over arsenic hour (approx 5.30 - 8pm, for the edification of the child-free) parenting duties, mwahahaha. It was almost worth it.
Thanks to the miracles of modern horse-pills I am feeling much better today. I fished out a Pilates dvd that I bought at the supermarket ages ago - hey, Lisa McCune said I had to! who am I to ignore such wholesomeness? - and had an unco go at it. Noddie thought it was great fun and is insisting we take the dvd to Gran's tomorrow. Yes! We are off to my parents' for a week! The Spousal Unit is driving us up tomorrow and we are going to the races on Sunday - bring on the big hat, baby! - then he is going home in the evening and rejoining us next Friday for my Dad's 70th birthday. Poor J (he'd have had a better chance of getting holidays if he'd actually asked for some; my sympathy is limited cause I'm a big meany). We led an expedition of survival-trained SAS to the sleepout - also known as Mother's Despair or J's Black Hole O'Shite - and extracted the bike carrier so Minerva will be coming too! There's a tri I really kind of sort of have no idea why I want to do in March, which has a hill I really want to have conquered before I commit myself (to being DFL. In the Victorian Triathlon Chanpionships. Maybe I should just have myself committed). I Fear this hill. Driving up it makes me anxious. I WILL ride up it this week.

More anon, shake-n-bakers!