Knackered

If I can move tomorrow it'll be something. Mr G went to work, and I prepared for my solo walk to Bangor, really wasn't looking forward to it because I know how time drags when you're walking alone. So I made sure my iPod was charged and off I went. One good thing about being alone was that I didn't stop, it was just three solid hours of walking. Popped to Aldi and Poundland for a few vital bits and started my journey home. As usual, I bought more than would fit in my bloody rucksack, so I had to carry a shopping bag all the way home too. If I had a quid for every time I glanced at a bus stop on the way home, or debated whether to get a taxi, I'd be a rich woman. Nevertheless I persisted and finally arrived home, just over three hours after I set off. 

Started on tea, the French Onion Chicken from Two Chubby Cubs, I had to wait for Mr G to get home from work as he was doing an Aldi visit his end too, to get the heavy stuff like potatoes and milk. I cut the potatoes up really small, par boiled them, mixed a little Marmite in them and sprayed them with oil before roasting them. 

It was absolutely gorgeous. I was worried that Mr G wouldn't like it because he detests French Onion soup, I think he was sick once after it, and it put him off for life. But testimonies on the Cubs Facebook page from people who don't like the soup but love this recipe swayed me. He is digging his heels right in about the banana curry though, don't know why. 

We went for a small walk after tea, I had already done 20,000 steps and he had pulled in quite an impressive 7,000 at work so we only needed a short one. It started raining while we were on the prom and we were soaked when we got in, but as I keep saying, it's only water. 

Pulled in my longest walk on Strava today, had I not been laden with shopping I may have carried on the walk through the village, but it's not too shabby. Copped a bollocking off Mr G for walking down Siliwen Road alone. But he gave me kudos too, bless him. Step count after walk number two is...

And also quite impressed that I've very nearly completed my July walking challenge on Strava already. 49 of 50 kilometres done in six days.

In other news. The boy has - for some unknown reason - assigned different hair cuts to whichever team wins the Euros. Tonight's conversation went like this.

Boy: I hope England win it, but I don't, but I do, but I also don't. But I do.

Me: ...

Boy: Because if they win, it's Foden. Skinhead. Bleached blond. I'm not joking.

Me: What about if Italy win?

Boy: Mullet.

Me: Oh, for f...

Boy: No, it'll be a good mullet.

Me: THERE ARE NO GOOD MULLETS!

Boy: Yes, there are. Trust me.

I don't know what horrors await me if Spain or Denmark win, though. 

He is cooking in school tomorrow, a recipe of his own choice which demonstrates three separate skills, so he's decided to do the Recipe Tin Eats shawarma for one, and have it for his tea. He's got his head screwed on right, that one. 

Tomorrow is curry night with Mr G's former workmate and England's semi-final. Looking forward to that. Currently glued to the Italy Spain match, waiting to see the outcome before I collapse in bed. Mr G has the next two days off, we're going for a wander around the shops tomorrow, and weather permitting, for a walk with my cousin and her husband on Thursday.