she scoops. (beta)

….A bicycle, the country of Wales, Sheep, you and a (probably enormous) bird?

I know you know the answer, Dad but keep it to yourself for a moment while I provide lovely background and context to the rest of my readership (no, it ain’t just mum these days – I have TWO non-family-member subscribers, don’t you know). Anyhoo – I am digressing from the background-digress.

So. Just over a week ago – my Dad, my Brother and their pals took a 3 day cycling trip up and down (quite literally) the Welsh countryside.

Your Dad and bro are cyclists? When did that happen.

As a matter of fact we are into Summer # 2 of my Dad and my bro and their self-identifying as cyclists. In fact, they both have become rather super-fit in the cardio-vascular stakes thanks to their Summertime exercise of choice.

Note to them both – this must be making your respective healths very happy as you undertake this intense-at-times exercise for hours, almost daily, no? For the record, it makes me very happy because you are taking care of your hearts, minds, and (don’t forget our leg muscles, Pol) whole bodies in these quieter (work-wise for you guys) Summer months.

Too much with the digressing, Pol, we want a clue for the starting riddle.

How about a pictorial representation before the big dénouement?

The story (told to me by my Dad with Pol’s typically drama-filled typed version) goes as follows:

We all had an arrangement whereby we would go at our own pace for spells of about twenty minutes and then meet up for a snack/drink break before continuing. Following one particularly intense section of the route (Polly is imagining a fast-paced downhill section in the Welsh windy-rain) I pulled up to the group on my bike (my Dad emphasized that he was bringing ‘up the rear’ as they say and was the last person to reach the agreed resting spot). One of my fellow-cycling-teammates looked at me and innocuously asked: say, Dad of Polly M. from shescoops.com,* what is that white stuff strewn across the side of your face?

Erm, don’t know; can’t see. I certainly don’t remember anything specific hitting me since all manner of nature’s wonders come at us while we are cycling. What could it be?

Uh-oh. Why are you looking at me with that half-smile/half-’glad that isn’t me’ expression? Oooh. Yuk. Erm.. could somebody help me get this bird *&%$ off my face ASAP?

Some blank stares among the group later and someone (it was probably my Dad taking matters into his own hands) found the nearest puddle and likely his own handkerchief (the man has not left home without one since the fifties) – and did the cleanup job.

So. Hurrah for Wales, the invention of the bicycle, and the benefits of being so intensely focused on the exercise enterprise at hand that even a gigantic bird’s bodily functions go by entirely unnoticed.

*obviously, the aforementioned cycling team-mate called my Dad by his actual name and did not reference my blog for me (but I am never one to let a possible moment of self-promotion go idly by).

Tagged: Wales