Another hard frost arrived under the spell of a perfect full moon and I woke up inside a Christmas card. Too cold and slippy for riding first thing and so I waited, occupying myself with minor work projects, compiling quiz questions and baking a sourdough loaf. Around lunchtime the sun, like a giant mirror ball, had done its work sparkling and flashing with light and warmth as it slips over the tops of hedges and through the branches of trees. I decide to wrap up and get out for a few miles.
It's slow progress as I tentatively move along switchback lanes with sheltered verges, the white frost still evident and giving me fair warning not to push my luck. I climb south toward a small village that is a regular route on my summer rides. The scenery is dramatically different as I dip through a quiet valley past a small farm, each turn affording glimpses of dramatic scenery ahead.
It is a fine afternoon now, but the sky is cloud-hidden, I climb the gentle slope to Upton and, for some inexplicable reason, start thinking about how much TV I have sitting on the machine that has yet to be watched. It weighs on me like some psychological baggage I don't need: all that television I've recorded but haven't watched, sitting there on my hard drive like a stack of unwritten thank-you letters.
In the old days if you missed some TV, it was gone. Now, unwatched episodes stack up, obliging you to invent theoretical holes in your schedule when you might be able to catch up.
I suppose eventually I will run out of space, obliging me to sacrifice an unwatched programme in order to record another I may never see. TV is meant to be entertainment, not homework. It's time for drastic measures: Here are some key tips to solve the problem.
1) Delete any classic movies you've recorded in an idle moment after noticing they were being shown at 3.00am. Take my word - they will come round again.
2) If you've recorded three episodes of a show before you've managed to glimpse even a minute of episode one, you should probably think about writing off the whole series. Life is short.
3) Remember: anything "part-recorded" is also "part-deleted". Finish the job.
4) Get rid of any "good" films you recorded because you thought you ought to watch them. You won't. After three months I have finally realised the universe is never going to experience a wrinkle in time large enough for me to get to grips with Jonathan Millers version of 'The Merchant of Venice'
5) Remember, none of the above applies to the Tour de France stages from Last year - there'll always be time to watch Brad.
6) If all else fails - take a day off sick, watch everything.
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