Impetuously Planned

It’s a strange weekend. L gets up early on Saturday but not for a parkrun. She heads over to Leamington to see Son for some Christmas shopping. I walk the boys and then I’m at the match. This sees the second dreary performance by Derby in four days after more of the same on Wednesday. A point then and a defeat today. Although both are made better for some decent tributes to Jim Smith.

They axe L’s train on the way back and she has to return via Birmingham. When she eventually gets home it is bearing Stay Puft shaped gifts, Irish Cream flavoured and 9%.

In the evening we are out with friends. First at the Herbert Gilpin, Paste and then Brewdog. This gets me out of Sunday’s Bolsover 10K, where I have yet to return since getting the prize for 3^rd placed Veteran Lady a few years ago but it was probably full anyway. Although we did do the Shepshed 7 after going out with them last year but we were young and impetuous then. That’s probably not accurate, as we’re getting more impetuous all the time.

On Sunday the Lad isn’t interested in a lie-in and nor is L, who is stressed about the training run I have impetuously planned for her. While I just want time for last night’s Thai Curry to work its way through my system. In the end the run happens mid-morning with the three of us leaving a distraught and howling MD at home. We run the same loop that I did with Daughter the other week although L takes a shortcut home for around 7.5 miles while the Lad and I carry on to complete 10.5 miles.

Then after a bacon sandwich and a shower, the four of us crash back in bed. When we get up the second time it is dark. Where’s the rest of the day gone? We feel like such teenagers for lounging in bed although, obviously, the teenagers wouldn’t have done a run first. 

(Sunday 15^th December)

Says It All Really

My first day back at work is accompanied by the sad news that former Derby County manager Jim Smith has died. He was manager of the club for over six years from 1995 to 2001 and took Derby up to the Premier League where they twice finished in the top 10.

On Wednesday I meet my now retired ex-colleague in the Yard for a lunchtime pizza. It’s good to catch up even though he’s only been gone a couple of weeks.

In the evening while I’m at the match, L opts out of arguing nicely over balls in the mud with the boys and takes them for a walk instead. She survives, ta da, and seems rather pleased about it. It’s probably easier than playing the mind reader with MD. We all know he wants a ball chucking but which one and where is it is another question. It’s usually the one that’s now in the Lad’s mouth.

Work offer us a Christmas bottle, either a bottle of spirits or a bottle of decent wine. It’s usually three bottles of indecent wine, so I usually opt for the spirits. This year I decide to put my trust in the company’s wine experts and go for a decent bottle of red wine.

The weather on Thursday is foul and L enquires if I’m still planning on running. Sadly, yes. My sympathy is already with the bus driver. That is if he’s in the mood to let a wet bedraggled runner on to his bus. In the end I keep it to six miles and it doesn’t actually rain on me at all.

L is at Pilates and asks me to pop a bottle of wine in the fridge for later. Yes, we’ll need to toast Boris/drown our sorrows (delete as applicable). It’s General Election time again and I pull an all-nighter until 3:45am.

Friday is our staff Christmas Party, Secret Santa and also Christmas Jumper day. It's also Friday the 13th. Says it all really. Friday the 13^th is also the first day of Boris’s new Government. Says it all really.

Festivities are also going on at L’s place, where the mulled wine is flowing. At ours the free pizza is flowing. L will be heading off for a run with Daughter later, which could be eventful with one of them hobbling and the other sloshed.

In the afternoon many of our staff travel down to our southern office which is where this year’s Christmas Party is being held. I decline to join them. It’s usually a drunk fest anyway and being so many miles from home it will be a drunk fest without an escape route home. They’re also starting the drinking on the train down which means it could get very messy very quickly. 

(Friday 13^th December)

Dogs On CCTV

I ring up the insurers and order L’s new bike. They tell me it’ll be delivered on Wednesday, blimey they don’t mess about. I must saying I’m impressed by the whole thing.

A while ago I bought a CCTV camera to see what the dogs are up to whilst we are out at work and especially to see how Doggo gets over the stair gate, although he hasn’t done this for a while. This is probably why I’ve not rushed to set it up but it’s working now. Although for convenience it’s currently trained on the kitchen, where there is no sign of either dog. So I assume they’re both in the hall, trying to work out how to open the stair gate.

Allocations for tickets for the Commonwealth Games are announced and we get some athletics tickets. That’s a 50% success rate, much better than the initial 0% success rate for London 2012.

Apparently Steve McClaren, or should I say Dutch legend Schteve McClaren, will be the new Derby manager. I don’t really mind who we get but would be very happy with McClaren. He has unfinished business at Derby. He’s not only a former player but was also assistant to Jim Smith back in the day and was being groomed as his successor before Manchester United poached him off us.

Dog training tonight, where it’s a bit cold up on the hill tonight. Winter approaches I guess.

(Monday 30^th September)