Ma dawg gone left me

I hate country music. Rhinestones, whining, reactionary lyrics. That's what I thought anyway. Turns out that loads of the music I like is country - bluegrass, Appalachian stuff, some Loretta Lynn, lots of Johnny Cash and today, the Diana Jones album I bought a few days ago, Better Times Will Come. I can't pretend it's folk or any other sub-genre, despite the presence of good violins. It's country, and it's great. There, I said it.

However, I will remove my ears with a grater rather than ever listen to Country'n'Irish.

My bike looks ace now: bright blue handlebar tape, bright blue tyres, gleaming chrome and almost working brakes. Perhaps tomorrow I'll go for a ride before work. I swam today - felt pretty good until Neal appeared, did his 40 lengths in 20 minutes and still looked fresher than me. The fencing season's over until September, which is a little frustrating, though really it's too hot to put on four layers of kit, some of them metal.