The Offer Remains On The Table

We are back from Cambridge in time for the Bank Holiday into which we somehow cram in an extremely pleasant lie in, a leisurely walk with the Lad (if such a thing exists) and a not-so-leisurely joint gym session. After which there is somehow still time to take my Dad for a late lunch at the New Inn. Amazingly the Lad puts away the leftovers of garlic bread, chips, fish batter and a slice of bread and butter. Oh and a couple of ginger biscuits.

L is actually in work on Tuesday and it seems weird communicating on email with her again. So I walk and shop on my own. The walk was nice and quiet with no schools around but Sainsburys was traumatic. It took five staff to work out how to take the security tag off the bottle of whiskey I’d bought.

L is unhappy to be in work again on Wednesday but she should be looking on the bright side. It’s only her second day in work this week and its already the start of her weekend tomorrow as she doesn’t work Thursday or Friday.

On Thursday evening we run 6k with the Lad as my first training run towards the Nottingham Grand Prix of four races that I’m doing for the first time since 2018 which was curtailed when I twisted my ankle halfway through the first race. We celebrate my comeback with a bottle of red.

At the same time negotiations reopen over the long illusive summer dress that I offered to buy L around a decade ago. The offer remains on the table but I think L is fearful of following through on the offer in case I get overexcited given my age and ailments.

L is at Derby Book Festival on Friday seeing someone called Francis Spufford at Quad. The Lad and I meet her later in the Exeter and then bring her home to woo her with a Spam Curry.

We parkrun at Wollaton on Saturday and then in the evening we are both at the Book Festival to see James O’Brien, who rants far less in person that he did when reading his own audiobook. The debate in the room is excellent and L and I continue it afterwards in the Smithfield over a pint of Sarah Hughes’s 6% Mild.

L is at the book festival again on Sunday for two talks at the Roundhouse while I attack our hedge. We do the gym in the evening. 

(Sunday 2^nd June)