"for the happy, the sad, I don't want to be, another page in your diary"

Saturday 8 October 2011

Butter Wouldn’t Melt

The patient has his check up this morning which he passes with flying colours. It’s interesting to note that the grumpy old man, who growls at us when we try and inspect his stitches, is bestest pals both with his surgeon and the nurse. They’re all on first name terms and does he growl when they inspect his stitches, oh no, butter wouldn’t melt.

He’s given the all clear but is banned from agility for a further week. Which means no competing tomorrow and no training on Wednesday. I had already decided to retire him anyway, which means at our next event, which probably won’t be until December, I’ll run him in Veterans.

After a trip to the opticians I actually have the rest of the day and evening free... Hmmm... so what happens now then? I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do in situations like this. Chill out and watch TV or something? Not sure I know how to do that. So L and I embark on a bit of a house tidy and take a load of stuff to the tip. Not that we’re trying to expunge any signs of Son or Daughter from the place, perish the thought. We miss them dearly, on occasion.

At the tip, the council seem to totally ignore the WEEE electrical recycling regulations (it’s part of my job to know about these things) and dismantle our old computers (four of them!) and other defunct electric items with a large sledgehammer. I could have done that, saved them the trouble and had some fun into the bargain.

Then it’s pasta and a night in. L has a rather serious run and challenge match tomorrow.

(Saturday 8th October)

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