Cinderella You Shall Go To The Ball

Monday is the third bank holiday of the month and I spent most of it gardening at Aston for my Dad while L’s doing the gardening for her Mum in Mickleover. Aren't we a couple of saints. She comes over to us just as we’re finishing. We’re already heading to Notsa for a recovery drink and then an ice cream.

On Tuesday, after about three years of nagging and prodding from just about everybody and having tried and failed on the NHS route, I shell out some serious money for a private physiotherapy appointment at FXD Fitness in Bilborough. The reason that I’ve gone for it this time is that this is the place that L went to and raves about.

I don’t get her chap. Mine is very nice and I assume he knows his stuff but he’s not a runner and thinks runners are basically aliens. This doesn’t seem to dissuade him from taking my money though and having regaled him of my sports and injuries history which amazingly doesn’t take up the whole hour, he prods and pulls everything before announcing that ‘Cinderella you shall go to the ball’ or rather I will be able to take up my deferred place at this year’s Robin Hood Half at the end of September. I fall off the examining table laughing. He’s ambitious I’ll give him that. Ok let’s do this.

When I get home L says something that indicates she isn’t totally on board with the plan my new best mate and I have hatched.

Dog training is on Wednesday and on Thursday my Dad asks me to shop for him while L heads off for a swim at Colwick. She says she feels bad for abandoning me but I thought I was the one abandoning her to do my Father’s shopping.

She gives the Lad’s apologies to the dog who doesn’t like him telling him he’s probably in the pub by now with my Dad and I eating crisps. I hope he was jealous.

Saturday is Parkrun at Wollaton Hall and then L rushes off to Colwick again. Yes again. She’s becoming addicted although this one is a special event. It’s yoga and a swim.

This is not highbrow enough for my Dad and I. We are at a museum albeit a pop up one and one about Derby County put on by the Rams Heritage Trust. Ok, so not very highbrow.

After we again come over to Nottingham to collect the Lad and again go to Wollaton Park for coffee, ice cream and because my Dad insists cake as well. He’s a very bad influence. This time I take him to the other end of the park which is a completely different experience for him as it’s like being at a different park. L comes to join us. She can smell an ice cream a mile off. 

In the evening we have a rare Saturday night out and go to Stapleford.

Then on Sunday we’re at... Colwick. Where else would we be? Only not for the morning swim but for the Moonlight Swim. Not that it’s even dark when they have it at 9pm but it comes with plenty of accompanying razzmatazz and the dog who doesn’t like the Lad.

(Sunday 4^th June)