Wibble on the Ribble

Hello fello internet users,
today I plan to tell you of all the brilliant scientific benefits of Zumba. Not because I actually believe them, but because I know it will really annoy my husband who thinks that Zumba is the most lowly form of exercise a person can take. Basically I started doing Zumba a few months ago because my friend Danni has become an instructor. Before I started Zumba the furthest I had ever cycled in one go was about 10 miles however after a few weeks of Zumba I have managed to cycle 60 miles! If that isn't scientific proof of the power of Zumba then I don't know what is. From this information I can conclude that 45 minutes a week of Zumba increases your fitness levels by 600%.

Dan would probably point out that the time I cycled 30 miles and the time I cycled 40 miles helped in my training to cycle 60 miles, but we all know that Zumba increases your fitness levels by 600%. I cycled from Dan's work near Southport to a friend's house in Clitheroe and bac,k through the Ribble valley. Hence the title. (If you don't know why my nik name is Wibble btw you can read about it in my first ever blog. )

The cycle took 3 hours each way. Half way there I had to go on a little cycle track that goes under the M6... if you don't know which bit of the M6 I mean it's the bit that looks like a uterus:

If I was the kind of conceptual artist that had a lot of money, I would paint the whole thing pink and make women dress in giant egg costumes and stand on the roundabouts (apart from 1 egg-woman who could stand on the preston by pass.) Then I would make hundreds of cars in the shape of sperm have a northbound race to the egg woman. Who ever won the race would win a date with that woman.

So I got to my friend Hazel's house and just lay on her floor and ate for 2 and half hours before heading back. I can't decide if I'm a great friend because I cycled for 6 hours to visit her, or if I'm a stingy friend who wanted to skimp on petrol money, maybe both. On the way back I saw a couple of cute shetland ponies and I wanted to stroke them so I tempted them with an apricot jam covered crumpet which seemed to do the trick.

p.s Right now I am putting of doing my accounts. Last year my laptop was stolen so it was a massive hassle to do my tax return with no invoices. My mum had to come up and help me after we had done it she set me up a new excel sheet for this tax year so I could put in the info as I went along and it could never be lost because it's on dropbox. So I made a real effort to put in all the borring information like sales figures, petrol millage, material costs etc. A few days ago I was adding the final numbers into my 2012-13 spred sheet as it was the end of the year. I had just finished and was very happy with myself and the fact that dropbox means I can never loose anything. It turns out that's not true. If you delete everything and then press 'save' it is lost. 

Don't even ask.  : (

How not to ask out women

• Obtain their number by imoral possibly illegal ways.
• Don't obtain basic facts like what they look like, what age they are or whether they are single.
• Ask them out by text.

People who work in builders merchants are seriously woman deprived! I discovered this a while ago after I occasionally went to this one to get breeze blocks for sculpture. Here is one I made called Frank:

You can read about him and his adventures here.

So that is the reason that I sometimes go to a builders merchants. I have a big project coming up after the easter hols teaching sculpture to 55 year 5 and 6 children so I needed to order some blocks which I did over the phone this morning. I then got a text from a guy introducing himself as 'the guy with the blocks' To start with he was asking me about if I could make a sculpture of his son....I said I could give it a go, but it probably wouldn't be recognisable as his son. I said I would charge £10 an hour and it would take about 6 hours. Then he said what's your name? and I said Hannah what's your name? and then he sent this ridiculous text:

"It's Richard luv so we're talking about 60 pound any chance of you throwin a dinner date in too han"

ewwww! I repleyed:

"I'm married so no. You've kind of made it weird now"

He hasn't texted back...phew. I'm not sure if he made the whole thing about him wanting a sculpture up now, but it's safe to say I won't be sculpting his son.

What I find amusing about this man is that as we only spoke on the phone, the only thing he knows about me is my name and the fact that I'm female. As you can't tell a lot by a name, his only real criteria is female. I was tempted to say "yes I'll go on a date with you" and then pay the ugliest actor I could find to go on a date and fart and pick her nose all the way through the meal.