Actually I’m not that disappointed and the calf does feel a bit better this morning, I’m even considering running home. Only kidding... I have a committee meeting to go to.
The week starts calmly on Dog TV, after a hard weekend the Lad doesn’t even need to get the tea towels out. Until Tuesday that is, when he is seen having a right old time with what appears to be a pair of knickers on his head. Looks like L’s left the wash basket out. There could be quite a collection in the hall by the end of the day.
Manchester Marathon email me. Not to ask how I am, oh no, but to tell me that entries are now open for next year.
L’s boss gives her a Cadbury's Creme Egg. I’m told to confiscate it and destroy the evidence. I do as instructed.
She also tells me that she’s been getting emails threatening to send photos of her ‘doing things’ to all her friends and ruin her social life. So it’s not just me who’s been caught by our non-existent webcam then.
By Wednesday, I feel my calf is ‘recovered’ enough to bike to work. Admittedly it wasn’t totally pleasant going uphill or walking over the bridge at the Wyvern but all that was minor compared to hopping round a marathon. I even manage dog training in the evening.
On Thursday, L is given another Cream Egg and I offer to again eat it for her if she foam rolls my calf. She agrees but then falls asleep before I can get my evening roll. She does apologise in the morning and says I need a livelier woman but I don’t think that was a serious offer.
I bike again on Friday while L comes home with yet another Cream Egg, saying she didn’t want to offend her boss by saying no. I again have to intervene.
Her Dad has now been discharged from the main hospital and has been moved to the Community Hospital. We go over to see him.
(Friday 12th April)