No bikes were harmed in the breaking of my wrist

Yes, I have managed to break my right wrist.

I fell playing rounders at a barbeque. I've managed to split my ulner, chip it AND possibly dislocate my thumb. It sucks.

I can barely do anything. Typing is taking an age and the pain means I can't even use my fingers to hold anything still while I use my left hand.

Mr Weenie has been marvellous.

So... the story...

I was fielding and ran for the ball. My ankle went over and I landed with all my weight on my wrist. I felt sick for a moment and it was sore but I decided to get up and soldier on. I played left handed for another hour or so. Afterwards, we went to the bar. I'd only had two bottles of beer all day but decided to have a coke.

I started to feel really sick and, as we left, asked to be taken to the hospital on the way home. We arrived at 8.45pm, and left at 2.30am. I swore and moaned while being x-rayed and nearly passed out when they took the sling off.

A mean nurse plastered me eventually and we walked home. Mr Weenie carried my bag, made sure I kept warm and, with the foxes and a clear night it could have been romantic.

The annoying thing is that I can't blog much, if at all. Nor, crucially, can I cycle. Six weeks in plaster. Sigh.

Ridiculously good mood

Hmmmm, why am I so happy? Could be because:

• I have a new personal best getting to work, 25mins door-to-door.
• It's beautiful weather.
• Mr Weenie has started planting herbs and things in the balcony plant boxes and they look beautiful.
• I'm seeing my lovely sisters this evening.
• My copy of Replay has arrived (written by the marvellous T).
• Reg is still clean and gorgeous after his mid-week wash.
• I ran out to catch the ice-cream man last night and he gave me an extra big Mr Whippy.

All of this has counterbalanced the nasty scratch on my forehead that Mr Handsome gave me last night when he misjudged a leap from my chest to the arm of the sofa. Ouch!

Oh and just because, this was the Thames path yesterday afternoon as I cycled to a medical appointment. Beautiful!

Ealing Cycling Campaign and singing chums

When Mr Weenie announced he was off the rugby AGM there was a niggling feeling that I'd been asked to go somewhere, then I remembered. Ealing Cycling Campaign meets once a month and last night was the night.

I decided to attend. A asked me ages ago and I was hijacked in the local Waitrose car park by another member asking if I wanted to join.

It was a nice evening on all fronts. A very nice man on a Brompton bought me a beer, there was a space next to A for me to sit, and I found out about the various Bike Week projects going on in the borough. It was, a bit like the FNRttC, the kind of cycle group where everyone is welcome and, while some were in jerseys and some were in jeans, we were all cyclists together.

Afterwards, having had no word from Mr Weenie, I decided to visit some old friends who I had no doubt would be in a local pub as they always are on a Wednesday night. I arrived unannounced and had wine thrust into my hands and a hearty welcome.

I then cycled home in the balmy evening, not even having to put a jacket on. Bliss.

Blend those blues away

Yesterday I was having a less than spectacular day. To top it off, a guy walked out straight in front of my bike on my way home. Noticing that he wasn't looking I had rung my bell with no response and, luckily, had slowed in the anticipation of his suspected stupidity. It didn't stop him swearing at me though. By the time I got home, wet and muddy, I was less than bubbly.

As Mr Weenie and I waited for our shopping delivery I decided to take action.

For my 21st birthday I bought myself a blender. A £120 blender. It has about a squillion attachments, including a juicer. We have a regular fruit and veg box delivery and have been woefully rubbish at eating the fruit. I decided to blend my blues away. I juiced the oranges, then I did some apples and, while it took about five to make one large glass of juice, Mr Weenie pronounced it delectable. I juiced the pears as well and, with no fruit left, I decided to attack the kohlrabi that had arrived instead of detested courgette.

Using the shredder I reduced it to paper thin strips along with some carrots and an onion. Mr Weenie and I snacked on the resulting mix while waiting for the shopping.

Yes, there's nothing quite like shredding and pulping the hell out of things to make you feel better.

The Evans in Brentford

I was off buying cat food nearby and realised that Wizzbikes has now completely morphed into a branch of Evans Cycles.

My company's Ride to Work scheme is through Evans, so I decided to check it out in case I decide to get Rupes, my third bike. Wizzbikes was much loved by local cyclists and, with their staff kept on and the Chiswick Evans super busy, I wanted to check out the customer service etc.

I got lovely, if alarming young, lad, who was super helpful and had no problems whipping out bikes for my inspection and allowing me to sit on them. He certainly talked the talk and was very helpful. He was a little obsessed with me getting a road bike even though my heart's set on a cyclocross, but he made some compelling arguments. They also had some GORGEOUS sit up and begs........

In short, I'm fairly sure that it's the shop I'll be going to if and when I go through Ride to Work. Evans can be a bit patchy on service (Fulham Broadway were particularly awful when I went in) and I want somewhere that treats me like a proper cyclist without bamboozling me with details. I'll let you know when I go next.