Up A Bracket

The Lad looked absolutely gutted when we both left for work on Wednesday morning. What no beach today? I’m just as gutted as he is. It’s a look he maintains all day long on Dog TV.

Despite being away for two weeks the pizza oven at The Yard is still broken, so it’s sandwiches for lunch again.

L has come back from holiday with a dodgy elbow which her boss injects for her. She is embarrassed to have to lie down afterwards, I’d have fallen down and been out cold.

The Tennis Centre is no longer allowing outdoor courts to be booked from 7pm presumably because it’s now too dark to get the hour in, so we move indoors for our tennis on Thursday and up a price bracket.

L asks me to check out if there are any girls in her male dominated tennis ex-class tonight. Erm, one lad and four girls.

Instead she goes to her running club where she describes the session as more like British Bulldog. Not too sure what that means.

(Thursday 5^th September)

We Know Where He Is

Olympics ticket go on sale in the Republic of Ireland this week, so I nip in quick and add an Athletics session and the final round of the Men’s Golf to our collection. One of the many great things about being in the European Economic Area is being able to purchase tickets like this from any other country who is also a member. It’s such a shame that we are trying to leave it and will they still send me my tickets if we do...

Monday sees L out on the town in Derby while I’m dog training as usual.

Tuesday is the only day I manage to cycle this week. Which is also when L has her health check. They tell her she has raised blood pressure which she pleads is due to her rushing to her appointment after having been for a swim and then walked back. 

They didn’t even tell me what my blood pressure was this time as they didn’t really seem interested in any of my results or in fact me being there at all even though they had invited me. To be honest, it does seem an odd waste of time when everyone is struggling to get doctors appointments and especially if they’re not going to take it seriously. 

L’s Dad is now allowed trips home from the hospital including some overnight stays as they plan ahead for him coming home. Which is good news.

On Wednesday I am out with my friends from school which involves us being dragged to another pseudo café bar, the Carnero Lounge, that does food e.g. burgers and stuff but no beer. Think I’d rather have decent beer and no food really.

Thursday, I am out again as L’s sister has booked a table at The Yard to celebrate her Daughter leaving Uni. L, Daughter and I go along with L’s brother’s family, her sister’s family and her Mum and Dad, who will be staying at home tonight. It does mean there’s no tennis for either of us this week.

On Friday, we appear to be a dog missing and the barricade is down... We know where he is. Time for Plan F. Plan F may be a cage.

In the evening L, Daughter and L’s sister run the Tara Kinder 10k on Elvaston Park. It’s not one of my favourite events so I opt to come watch and chuck balls.  

(Friday 19^th July)

Useful For The Female In Your Life

On Monday morning the park is still locked when we get there. The boys and I walk aimlessly up and down the street for fifteen minutes but no one turns up to unlock it. It’s Half Term, the world goes mad.

L sends me shopping for mincemeat and I am laughed out of Sainsbury’s because it’s February. So, you can buy hot crossed buns all year round but apparently you can only buy mincemeat in December.

L and Daughter go to running club for a spot of intimidation. L has seen that they’ve been putting stuff on Facebook about running nine minute miles tonight and thinks they will try to lose them. I tell her not to be so pessimistic but she turns out to be right, they get dumped. I’m not sure they’ll be going back again.

Thankfully on Tuesday the park in open as usual. So, the boys are relieved. I get to cycle to work in the quiet half term traffic while L looks after the carpet fitters who are doing our back room. In the evening it’s dogging and L also heads over to Derby to see her folks but on the bus. Naturally the three of us don’t think she’s avoiding us.

On Wednesday, my colleague and I take advantage of the usual ‘Wednesday Wow’ at the Yard (2 for 1 pizzas) but find out they have revamped the menu. There’s now a lot more choice but there are also way too many random vegetables chucked into the mix for no good reason. Do artichokes, aubergine, avocado, spinach etc really go well on a pizza?

Derby have a game on Wednesday evening but lose a dire match 1-0 to Millwall. Meanwhile L and Daughter attempt a dog run but abort it when the Lad legs Daughter down. It’s not been a very good running week for them.

Thursday is my long run day and I run home from work again. I have been looking at getting a new Garmin but I’ve not made a decision yet. By the time I’ve decided what I want my marathon will be done and dusted. I do see they now do a watch that tells you how stressed you are... very useful for the female in your life. 

 

After our various activities, L is again at tennis, we crack open a few cans of Guinness Mid-Strength. At 2.8% ABV the 660ml cans work out at 1.8 alcohol units each. So hardly alcohol free but actually rather pleasant. Perhaps a slight upgrade on the Mackeson, which is also 2.8%.

(Thursday 21^st February)

Chicken Run

L has Monday off to recover from the Thunder Run but I’m at work. She gives the impression she spends the majority of her day off looking for lost balls on the park.

The diagnosis is that we have a puppy who likes to run off with a ball, then to sit and chew it. Whilst we also have a plonker (I assume she means our Crufts silver medalist) who likes very much to drop his ball in the longest grass he can find. As I well know, it’s difficult trying to keep an eye on both dogs at the same time but then she bigs up a chap with an allegedly sensible dog choice aka two spaniels but apparently he too was shuffling through the long grass searching for a ball. So spaniels can’t find balls either. 

I suppose the weekend must have gone ok because I’m not in an ankle cast, I even manage to fake looking mobile at dog training on Monday evening although any hobbling is down more to my blisters rather than my ankle.

That said I don’t cycle on Tuesday or any other day this week. I just couldn’t swing my leg over. L manages to swim, which she says is very therapeutic on the legs. I think I would have drowned if I’d attempted to swim but then I probably always say that.

Wednesday we take L’s Dad to The Yard on Pride Park for his 80^th birthday and then the rest of the week is spent camping at my club’s dog show or Chicken Run as L calls it.

Oddly as we are camping both kids are camping too at almost the same time. Perhaps we haven't scarred them for life after all.

Thursday is set up day for our show and after that I meet L in Burton where we try the new

Weighbridge Bar which is in a weighbridge office. These are the types of places I deal with in my job but none of them have bars inside them. I think they should.

After that we stay on site as we have a bar there for the whole weekend although it frustratingly insists on closing at around 5pm every day.

The show itself goes well although the weather is terribly changeable. The heatwave continues throughout Friday but then decides to end in the middle of our show. Saturday brings 40mph winds and we have to suspend the show mid afternoon until things die down. I am tasked at 7am to help pull one of the show tents out of the hedge where it had come to rest. Sunday is pretty much all rain.

MD does ok in his runs, fourteen of them over three days. We don’t get any rosettes but he does enough that I am no longer considering his imminent retirement. He probably doesn’t want to hear that as I bet he was looking forward to it. 

(Sunday 29^th July)

In The Yard

After a king sized lie-in we eventually emerge and head to the Gym at Derby Arena.

L did have grand plans to treat me to a showing of Elf at Broadway but sadly (perhaps) it’s sold out.

After the gym, we try out Derby County’s new bar/restaurant which is called The Yard. The name comes from the train yards which originally stood on that spot before the stadium was built.

It is basically yet another glorified burger joint but they do have a few other dishes and we have what turns out to be a very average Sunday lunch.

To be fair they serve us beatifically cooked ‘pink’ roast beef but then leave it loitering on a wooden board to go cold before serving it to us. It is accompanied by vegetables which are wonderfully fresh but potatoes that are so hard I fear they’ve been hanging around all day.

Sadly the beer choice is out of the last century. No real ales, no craft ales. Of their two keg beers, the pale ale is off which leaves just keg Marston’s Pedigree which is a pale imitation of the cask version which itself is pale imitation of its former self.

Glad we’ve tried it but doubt we’ll be back.

(Sunday 17^th December)