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

Sunday 12 November 2023


I’m still ill on Monday so the last thing I needed was an unplanned extension to our morning walk when I found the exit gate from the park at Sutton Passeys still locked. Meaning I had to go all the way back where I came in on Harrow Road. 

I’m feeling too weak for cycling so I skip that and even take L’s advice to go to bed early, now there's a first, while she goes for a swim.

I’m a bit better by Tuesday but L still runs off to work to escape my germs where she finds her boss is full of cold, as was her PT when she saw him earlier. She’s surrounded by ill people.

Obviously she is feeling left out because that evening, halfway through our regular session listening to Cormoran Strike, L gets up to go to the bathroom and vomits. Then she comes back and we carry on. She blames a satsuma. I’m surrounded by ill people and I run off to dog training to escape.

I may have managed dog training but I feel a session with my evil physio will be a step too far, so I move him back a week.

Wednesday’s match in the EFL Trophy, now officially known as the Bristol Street Motors Trophy, results in a 4-1 victory over a Wolverhampton Wanderers Under 21 side in front of just 1,972 people. No one really cares about this much until we get to Wembley.

On Thursday Daughter tests positive for Covid and has to WFH. I’m surrounded by ill people.

On Friday the car is in for its MOT which means a trip over to Derby as even that is easier than getting to VW in Nottingham. I take it and L picks it up after lunch. She then heads over the Mickleover and is understandably distraught when another car runs into her. It turns out to be just a minor dint that cleans up ok but we have to break open a large bottle of Leffe to help us get over it.

On Saturday L runs at Markeaton parkrun but the Lad and I just watch. We have a coffee afterwards in the café before I drop L in Derby. I take my Dad to the match where Derby beat Barnsley 3-0. We are in the Plough later where the big question is which is better, the Coffee Porter or the Toffee Stout. I think the Coffee Porter just shades it.

Sunday is the dog club’s Members Day where we put on a day of competition for the club’s members. The Lad is, of course, in equal parts hopeless and embarrassing. On his very first run he takes off for a jump far too late and face plants into the ground, all in his haste to cram a few extra tunnels in. It is all caught embarrassingly on camera. He add two more Es later to complete a full set of three.

Back at home L runs without us again although I may have died had I gone with her as I’m still not 100% but I do manage to go with her to the Gym later. After which we have a home cooked Sunday Roast.

(Sunday 12th November)


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