A False Sense Of Security

Dogging is ‘surprisingly’ off so after work I head to John Carroll for a swim. Where I am lulled into a false sense of security as I jump into lane 2 where the only occupant is a girl with immaculate hair piled up on top of her head, bone dry, who is chatting away to someone in the next lane and not doing any swimming.

Eventually she finishes chatting and starts swimming only after I've took the edges off myself with 20 lengths of the pool. Then she wipes the floor with me.

I crawl home to see if I can resist ball chucking for a fourth day in a row.

L has headed to Harvey Hadden for a workout blitz. I’m not exactly sure what a ‘workout blitz’ involves but in this case I’m told in involves Pump and Pilates.

I do the househusband thing and promise to have something hot on the table ready for when she gets home.

(Monday 4^th January)

The Blitz

It’s dropped a bit cold today and L takes the dog’s ice skating, in preference to their morning walk. I derided the council for using grit unnecessarily the other day, perhaps today they did need it after all.

Tonight is Bonfire Night of course and I get home to be greeted by one dog. I have to free the other from the spare room. I assume the explosions had started early and somehow he had managed to batter his way into there. Once there he normally digs a hole in the carpet or tunnels his way through the cables under the computer table. At least there’s no sign of digging and he hasn’t managed to electrocute himself, not yet.

Dog training tonight would have been good for him, as we’re in the middle of nowhere, so there shouldn’t be many fireworks. Only, it’s cancelled for un-firework related reasons.

So Doggo spends the evening indoors listening to Kerrang Radio while MD spends his barking at the blitz in the garden.

(Monday 5th November)