The road to Fat Bike heaven is a slow one.

I'm on a fixed income; my choice that, I asked for it. Would rather struggle with money than struggle with my daily commute to central London from the sticks. You see I have to provide a car for work. You fancy that commute every day? Thought not. Anyway, fixed income + mountain biking as a hobby = eternal poverty. Then you have N + 1, where you always need another bike, always. This time a Fat Bike.

So, no money in the kitty, I bought an On-One Fatty frame just before Christmas. Since then I've acquired some bits for it; handlebar, brakes, saddle. Bits really. It then stalled build wise. It's now March and it still looks like a frame. Problem of no money. So, money needed. Needs be I've hit on the idea of selling furniture. Paint a wooden piece of furniture up, distress it, sell it, quids in.

I've thus been selling furniture to raise funds. Only for a week, and I've made £250 from our surplus items from the house. That's almost a set of forks! Happy lad.

Until wife came in. She asked why I've sold her drawers and book case? Bike dear. "Is it now?" came the reply, and I sensed trouble.

Mothers day kind of trouble. Eating out, new jacket, flowers kind of trouble.

Ah well, I didn't need new forks this week anyway. And it was tasty pasta.