The Impending Apocalypse

L asks if I’m basking in the glory at work. Not really. Most of my colleagues are simply shaking their heads but a couple of folk were impressed.

I’m impressed when I bump into a chap in an Ironman UK 2017 t-shirt in Sainsburys. The only problem was, it was bright yellow. How cruel is that? All that effort for a yellow t-shirt.

This hurricane is causing a few issues, for a start it's gone all yellow outside like the apocalypse has arrived. It’s also trapped all three of our directors in Belfast where they went for a meeting today but now they’re having to stay overnight because all the flights back have been cancelled.

Both dogs are at the vets tonight for their annual MOT and the vet doesn’t even seem surprised to see Doggo again. Both dogs are given a clean bill of health, not entirely spotless in Doggo’s case as he now has plenty of age related ailments but we won’t tell him if the vet doesn’t.

Dog training is off, although apparently its not down to the impending Apocalypse. Which does seem to be clearing now, which is good because we simply haven’t got time for an unscheduled apocalypse. Instead we both go to support Daughter at her running club. L is getting really good at this supporting business. After which we have a swift pint in the pub on the Embankment, which is now a brewpub  in the Brewhouse And Kitchen family.

There is no news on my missing friend, I don’t know if that’s good news or bad.

(Monday 16^th October)

The Return Of The Simpsons

On the last full day of work before Christmas I manage to get a bike to work in.

I go for lunch with one of our work neighbours, who also happens to be my brother. We do my usual Wednesday at the Brunswick although he insists on driving and quickly finds out why we don’t. There is nowhere to park. By the time we’ve circled the surrounding streets eight times we could have walked up. Still a pleasant lunch and a pint of course.

L belatedly queries the spelling of Lawnmower Deth and then heaves a huge sigh of relief that she managed to avoid an incorrectly spelt gig.

Hurricane Daughter arrives today and it is good to see her, even if I have forgotten to take the plug off the TV and we get to enjoy the Simpsons for the first time in almost a year. The dogs are also pleased to see her as this is someone else to hassle with balls etc.

Probably too much wine is drunk later.

(Wednesday 23^rd December)

Still Running At 91

Ex-Hurricane Bertha paid a visit today, whatever an ex-hurricane is. She was seemingly as bad tempered as an ex-girlfriend. Although I think she blew herself out and the day turned out to be just plain wet.

What she did do was scare off the majority of the folk who were supposed to be at today’s dog show at Catton Hall. This hugely enhanced our chances of winning or would have done had MD been on his game. He wasn’t. The weather also hugely reduced the amount of people helping out, so I ended up mucking in.

We did get one clear round but didn’t even get in the top ten. Then we got a surprise rosette for a third place in a run that we got five faults in and was probably his worst run of the day.

Today is also Doggo’s birthday. He’s 91 but he still did his veterans run in the rain and went clear. He's still got the knack even in soggy conditions. However he’ll probably now sleep for the rest of the day. Luckily for him, with turnout low due to the weather, most of the competition was finished by lunchtime, so he’s home in plenty of time to do just that.

(Sunday 10^th August)