Compensation Is Ball Shaped

L heads up to Sheffield today to meet Daughter and to visit a Postgraduate Open Day at Sheffield University. You know, the 'other' Uni in Sheffield. I have to dip out having burned off all my annual holiday allowance. It’s a shame because on paper the day looks much better organised than the Manchester one.

Doggo looks a bit lost as L departs early for the train and his bottom lip quivers a bit as he climbs on the bed and goes to sleep. MD just shrugs his furry little shoulders and fetches his football, in the hope that compensation might be offered and that it might come ball shaped.

The girls report back that yes, it is better organised than last week. L is particularly impressed with the ample free coffee, whilst Daughter seems impressed with the free Bombay Bad Boys. The talks were good too, although she still seems to favour Manchester.

In the evening Derby play Middlesbrough in a match that is so awful that it didn’t deserve a goal, let alone the three is spawned us. It was the sort of performance that was a regular thing under Nigel Clough, one that he would have come out afterwards and raved about in his post match interview to everyone's bemusement. That would have been after a defeat, which isn’t the case tonight as we did actually win 2-1. Steve McClaren on the other hand comes out and admits to the press ‘yes we were sh*t but we won’.

(Wednesday 4^th December)

An Impartial Opinion

Today we get up early and again battle the oddities of train travel to head to Manchester again. This time to visit the University with Daughter for their Postgraduate Open Day, as she contemplates continuing her studies.

The route of the train takes us through Sheffield where she gets on and joins us. Although she can’t sit with us because of the peculiarities of the booking system. We were forced to book seats and are supposed to sit in them. Her tickets didn’t require a seat booking but if she requested one, there was no way of requesting it to be near ours. Then to take our seats we have to invariably move someone on, which we do. Then each time, both outbound and inbound, Daughter manages to find a reserved seat fairly nearby that isn’t being used.

The open day isn’t terribly well organised, Sheffield’s are much better Daughter informs us. That’s her impartial opinion of course and I’m sure has nothing to do with the fact she works at them.

After attending two morning ‘lectures’, for want of a better word, we join a brief campus tour before discovering that the Student Experience Exhibition had packed up and finished at lunch time. At least we manage to grab a complimentary coffee before they all disappear.

Then there is a subject specific session during the afternoon, which is the most helpful part of the day, answering many of my questions anyway.

Then with everything dealt with we take Daughter to a museum because apparently we denied her such delights as a child. I’m sure we didn’t but there you go. She heads straight for the mummy which is, as the attendant directs us, straight up the stairs and left at the elephant.

Then after all that excitement, it’s the train home. 

 (Wednesday 27^th November)

43% Drop Out Rate?

My event for this Sunday, which I have left until the last minute to enter, in case another part of my body gives way, the Bosworth Duathlon is full. 100 places, all taken. The online entry asks me if I’d like to join the waiting list, along with the 42 other people already on it. I decline. I think the odds of 43% of the field dropping out by Sunday are slim. Then again... looking at the weather forecast... who knows but, considering injuries, it’s probably best to skip it.

It’s raining now, heavily. I'll need wellies if dogging is on tonight.

Just when we thought the Uni tours were over a Postgraduate Open Day appears at the University of Manchester, which appears to be top of Daughter’s list if she goes for a Masters. I ask L to pencil it lightly in her diary but get back the response that black marker pen has been used. She’s keen then, she does love a good Uni tour.

Wellies will not be required tonight, dogging has unsurprisingly been called off. It’s too wet, even in wellies.

L suggests I get a swim session in instead probably mainly so that she can scrounge a lift home, as it’s still chucking it down, but it’s actually a good idea. If they’re open.

They are and I spend the next half hour swimming ‘badly’ (open water style), meaning my arms get a good work out. It’s a good job tonight is not a beer night because I probably wouldn’t have been able to lift my pint.

(Monday 21st October)