I am writing this, even though I have a terrible injury.
Yes. I am THAT brave.
Despite the fact that I have just viciously grated my thumb with a serious, industrial grade microplane, I am soldiering on to let you know that Tallulah did not die on her bicycle ride.
You are welcome.
I knew you would worry you see. You would fret, and toss and turn, and pace up and down the landing at three in the morning saying; ‘But did Tallulah make it back in one piece, or is Katy’s silence due to the fact that they are burying her even as I think this, under the hot tub?’
I can’t have that on my conscience.
She is fine.
Which is good, despite my uncharitable feelings towards her during the cycle helmet debacle of 2014.
She was not knocked over in an incident with a vehicle, not even a deadly silent milk float, as warned of by our cycling safety guru, the sainted Simon. She did not wobble off into a ditch. She did not run into one of her co-cyclists and cause a multiple bicycle pile up with spokes everywhere. All this was good news. As was the fact that Mrs. Preston did a marvellous job of looking after her, AND teaching her to use her gears properly. It is not appropriate to cycle everywhere in second gear. I am glad we have cleared this up. I am not good at this stuff, having run my three speed shopper into a 1982 model Ford Cortina while I was still in first gear. We need this kind of expertise if Tallulah is going to be Bradley Wiggins in a dress.
So it was all good, apart from one small thing. It did absolutely wazz it down with rain all the live long day. I was sent several pictures of bedraggled children peddling in grim concentration through the wind and rain in high vis jackets. Did they give up? Did they cry? Did they step into a puddle up to their middle? No. They did not. Tallulah said the cycling in the rain was the best bit of the whole day, and that was even after getting a free umbrella in the shape of a frog.
It is how we roll in this here England. Never let it be said that we let rain stop play. We don’t do snow, it is fair to say, but rain? Rain schmain! Rain, we spit in your wet and dripping face. HA!
I am very proud of Tallulah. It wasn’t easy to cycle twelve miles in the driving rain when you’ve only ever gone five hundred yards before. I’m very proud of Mrs. Preston who is a top, top lady for looking after my daughter so well. I am very proud of myself for not hysterically refusing to let her go, which was my initial instinct.
We win, right?