NORTHERN PLANNER

The fact of my feckless, clumsy, absent minded tomfoolery will come as no surprise to people who pop here now and again. From locking keys in cars to spilling hot tea on my privates, it all happens to me. Frequently.

But sometimes I think most of comes down to bad luck. Like this weekend, cycling to the butchers.

4 miles there, mostly downhill to pick up some of the best sausages in the universe. So far so good.

But there was a problem coming back – the seat had come loose and suddenly shot down to it’s lowest point, I lost my balance and fell off in a passable impression of Colt Seavers in the Fall Guy.

This meant cycling all the way back standing up, mostly uphill, with two pounds of meat in my rucksack. My legs haven’t recovered yet.

This kind of thing happens to me all the time. Maybe I’m cursed……