Of Food And Love

It went well - the Nigella chicken and chorizo was a smash hit - check out the recipe at Spanish chicken.

That was the food and what of love? Well I cooked it for my parents and, do you know what, I don't say it often enough - I owe them rather more than a solitary lunch. There are tiny little bits and pieces (mostly the bad ones) that I have done for myself but on any rational calculation I am the product of their selfless commitment to family. I hope they enjoyed the chicken.

While I wasn't cooking, eating or drinking today I wallowed in the coverage of the test match and the PGA golf. The cricket was terrific - a clatter of early England wickets followed by a very spirited fight-back and a final (last ball of the day) leveller for New Zealand. Under an English sun what could be better than to be at Lord's watching proper cricket? Proper cricket mind you.

The garden is looking good but my precious lawn probably needs another cut tomorrow. And finally, I've just had a text from Viperjohn to alert me to 33% off Pol Roger at Majestic for the next four days. Tempting, very tempting.

Of Exercise And Eating

The training is going well at this early stage and giving me a feeling of outrageous well-being. On Monday I ran for an hour, an important personal milestone. I confined myself to my local circuit of the small estate over the road, its great attraction being that I am never too far from home if my body gives out and it does not involve any steep hills. The problem with our location is that we sit at the top of a hill - great for views and avoiding floods but carrying with it the inevitability of a concluding haul up the slope if I venture very far.

But sometimes I do want to head down the hill for a change of scenery and Tuesday was such an occasion. Still a little tender from the hour on my feet on  Monday I was aiming for forty minutes and managed only a leaden-footed thirty. I risked the hill again today and set myself a target of thirty minutes but was pleased to do forty. Yesterday was definitely one of those days when the gods are against you. The rain it did rain and the wind it did blow, hell it even bloody hailed. Thus did I set out in my long tights and my waterproof jacket though I have to confess I did not abandon the Oakleys. Result? No rain, no hail, just a strong wind which always seemed to be against me and which inflated my jacket like a spinnaker. At various points I felt like I was going bloody backwards and it took me an indecent time to pass an old lady with a shopping trolley. Memories came flooding back of losing in a sprint finish to a bloke in a rhino costume in the 96 London Marathon. Great moments in sport.

Pig's training regime

Diet. I'm attempting the 5/2 diet - this is the one where you fast for two days and eat normally for five. I've been fasting today and although I feel vaguely virtuous I feel rather more hungry and I am being tormented by cravings for a glass of red (also verboten).

Tomorrow I will be answering a challenge I have set myself. I am cooking lunch for my venerable parents. We are to have Nigella's chicken and chorizo. I raided Waitrose this afternoon and I'm well psyched.

This is BFP signing out. Wish me luck.

Of Bonuses And National Treasures

The bonus? Well, courtesy of the good people at Coral that 20/1 winner I boasted of was paid out at double the odds. So 40/1 - if only it were ever thus. I wait in vain for the muse to revisit me.

OG's turf accountant of choice

National treasures: I've written before of my absolute and unreserved admiration for Clive James and, yes, I know he's not even British but he has honoured us by making this his home and here he will (all too soon we are informed) die. BAFTA gave him an award last week which he accepted with characteristic wit and wisdom. I have no idea whether he is as venerated in his native Australia but one hopes so. Perhaps not a national treasure then but a galactic treasure.

Peter Kay. If you haven't already caught the first four episodes of Car Share I command you to do so immediately via iPlayer. Simply bloody funny and warm. Up there with his earlier magnum opus Phoenix Nights.

Arithmetic Progression

I had a little flutter yesterday, well four to be precise. As Sharon pointed out this would be a bad habit to get into but don't worry I've got it under control. Famous last words.

20/1 shot - never in doubt

Four televised races from York (a lovely course by the way - IW and I had a memorable day there in an earlier age - Jack Charlton introduced us to John Charles) and I got better as the day wore on. First race, fourth place at 12/1; second race, third at 6/1; third race, second at 5/2; fourth race, 20/1 winner. Yes you did read that right, a 20/1 winner.

V8

I've been feeling a bit low today - discouraged by my own humanity/fallibility. Nothing too bad but a minor quake of pessimism. And so I took to the roads, first on foot for fifty exhausting minutes, and then for the same time in the precious Jag, having first had to jump start it out of its neglected slumber.

The soothing power of running and the energising power of the four litre V8. Marvellous self-indulgence.

Now I feel better and tomorrow is another day.

Many a Fine Tune

I was reading about Walter Bagehot's childhood (I do know this is sad but it's what I do) and found a bizarre letter from Bagehot Pere to the schoolboy Walter, in which the father recites great chunks from Palmerston's 1842 speech on free trade. My Dad never sent me letters like that when I was a teenager. But this last is besides the point, because I found myself taken with what Palmerston had to say.

Why are lands the most distant from each other brought almost into contact by that very ocean which seems to divide them? Why, sir, it is that man may be dependent upon man… It is that commerce may freely go forth, leading civilisation with one hand, and peace with the other, to render mankind happier, wiser, better. Sir, this is the dispensation of Providence, this is the decree of that power which created and disposed the universe; but in the face of it, with arrogant presumptuous folly, the dealers in restrictive duties fly, fettering  the inborn energies of man, and setting up their miserable legislation instead of the great standing laws of nature.

Free Trade Dude

Pretty neat really. And now pose the question to yourself - does the modern United Kingdom stand for that vision of free trade or not?

More importantly, BFP, after a few days of dissolution, hit the roads again this morning with a resounding thud. Forty-five minutes. I was going to fast today but am seriously contemplating having a glass of red and a banana. Life in the fast lane.

General Election VI

Well what a funny old night. Undoubted highlight: Vince Cable and Ed Balls both out of the House. Those who live by the sword indeed.

What to do about Scotland where the voters are now behaving as the English have learned to do in European elections, that is to vote for the party that doesn't believe in the institution to which they are sending representatives?

What to do about the electoral system, wherein UKIP can win four million votes (hugely outstripping the eviscerated LibDems) but only one seat?

The Conservatives have a scant majority and we will thereby live in interesting times - not always a curse. We will also live in a country where, when push came to shove, most people simply could not imagine Ed Miliband as PM.

A complaint about the timbre of the media coverage - in particular could the BBC please get rid of that smug twerp Andrew Neil, or at the very least compel him to drop the laughable comb-over.

Finally a thought (not mine) that I was saving up for the advent of a  Miliband led coalition:

Then you will see the rise of the men of the double standard - the men who live by force, yet count on those that live by trade to create the value of their looted money - the men who are the hitchhikers of virtue.

Hitchhikers of virtue - I love that.