Cultural Weekend

L is out on the razz in Derby on Monday and we’re all out on the razz at dog training on Tuesday. Well, the Lad's on the razz, a tunnel razz. MD and I have to put up with his razzing. I do take MD indoors with me this week where he’s quite chirpy and gets a good bark at the other dogs training. 

I’m in work on Tuesday, by bike. Which is pleasant enough, no wind as well as nice and sunny, although someone did try to spoil it by attempting to wipe me out at the Raynesway roundabout.

L is dog sitting, e.g. stuck in my office surrounded by dogs. So I’m worrying about her tea consumption but she says it’s fine. She’s going to the fridge for milk and MD is coming scrounging and gets a hot dog sausage every time. Which is all good. He’s eating and she’s getting tea.

Boris Johnson wouldn’t approve. In another attempt to get everyone back in the office he relates his experience of working from home as spending “an awful lot of time making another cup of coffee and then, you know, getting up, walking very slowly to the fridge, hacking off a small piece of cheese, then walking very slowly back to your laptop and then forgetting what it was you’re doing.”

This explains a lot if the Prime Minister, who famously works from home all the time, forgets so easily that he’s supposed to be running the country.

I head into the kitchen at work, make another cup of coffee and manage to get back to my desk without forgetting anything.

L and Daughter do another Six Pack Challenge run on Thursday with the Lad, this time at Bestwood. He’s becoming quite a trail runner. MD and I come along to spectate and for a short amble but MD ends up running off with them.

I have quite a cultural weekend courtesy of L and Derby Book Festival. On Sunday she takes me to see a talk by Julie Stonehouse about the book she’s written about her father John who famously attempted to fake his own death in 1974 but failed miserably and ended up in prison on fraud charges. Her book attempts to rescue his reputation and she herself is very forgiving of all his many misdemeanours She may have a point but the problem is she simply comes over as bitter and in denial.

Much more my sort of thing is what we go to on Friday. John Crace, the Guardian's parliamentary sketch writer, entertains us. I don’t often read his work purely because I’m not really into sketch writers but his humorous dissection of parliament goes down a storm tonight and thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any government supporters in the audience.

Afterwards we have a Friday night in Derby with a few beers in the Smithfield.

L is at the book festival again on Saturday after parkrunning at Forest Rec where the boys and I again spectate.

(Sunday 22^nd May)