The weekend has just.... finished.

OK, technically it finished at midnight Sunday but seeing as we've all been robbed of an hour and my weekend never really feels finished until the chicken soup is made...

After a week of work and disturbed sleep, Friday night saw me buying a duck for Sunday dinner and falling asleep in an armchair at a disturbingly early hour.

The bright side to the wasted evening was waking at an ungodly hour on Saturday morning so I could make good speed to a deserted beach in North Wales and fly some kites.

For a few years I've listed flying power kites as a hobby, the kind of hobby that could, in the right hands, be classed as an extreme sport if coupled with a buggy or surfboard thing (really, I'm in awe of the guys who do that). I've left my kites unused in a cupboard for too long, victims of changing circumstance and the need to exchange my time and skills for money so I was blowing away the cobwebs literally as well as figuratively.

The right kite in the right conditions can be immense fun, scudding or getting air is exhilarating, impressive to watch and an excellent workout. I'd promised to post pictures but sort of didn't take any, it's actually quite difficult to take pictures of yourself flying a kite! Perhaps next time? I'd also forgotten just how much my arms and shoulders ache after a couple of hours kite flying so a longish hot bath was in order when I arrived home.

Sunday was down time, spent with my two favourite people and a roast chicken because I decided not to attempt cooking the duck, a crisis of confidence I hope to resolve successfully next weekend.

Which brings me to today, Monday. A fairly normal, frustrating day, the usual problems with things not being where they should be, things that were where they were meant to be not working and just plain boring grind. Oh, and a chance meeting at the supermarket I'd chosen to buy my lunch from.

As I walked from the car to the store I could see her glancing and flashing a coquettish smile my way. As I got closer I could see we were roughly the same age, she rather attractive, well dressed and most importantly, she seemed to be waiting for me to catch up with her. Returning her smile she flashed a deliciously promising smile back in my direction.

At that moment I began to rack my memory for any previous acquaintance, a reason why she may be paying me such welcome attention but I came up blank. I didn't know her, I didn't recognise her from anywhere. Determined to make the most of this fortuitous meeting I walked towards her, intent on finding out why and more..

As I reached her she beckoned me to come and talk to her, I said hello in a friendly, welcoming voice to which she replied 'How are your testicles?'

Not being used to such forward approaches in public (or too many other places if I'm to be honest) and somewhat taken aback, I replied that they were in fine form and asked why..

Apparently the local county council is promoting a male cancer awareness week and this lovely lady has been tasked with asking men if they check themselves regularly. C'est la vie. At least I now have an excuse and a rather down to earth leaflet.