Railroaded

On the bike! Blimey! It’s been a while and it’s only my second ride in December.

It’s also the pub today and festive venison casserole. L is not so lucky. Half a ham roll (white), half a mini scotch egg and a slice of manky pizza as she gets railroaded into yet another fuddle she wasn't expecting. Christmas is guaranteed to bring out the best in slag food.

She was looking forward to her own homemade soup for lunch. Bah humbug etc etc. She’s says her New Year's Resolution is to cheer up.

Well at least they didn’t expect her to fuddle her soup and there’s no need to cheer up. I have a proud record of never having partaken in a fuddle that I don’t intend to relapse on.

Daughter decides not to come round for tea tonight having exhausted herself Christmas shopping, I just hope she hasn’t exhausted her bank account too. So she’s dipped out of one of my meals again, I could get a complex about this.

L says as compensation I could take her to the pub if I wanted. But if we go to the pub today, then what will we do tomorrow? Go to the pub again I suppose.

In the end we stay in and admire our new candle bridge which is just like next door’s. Don't you just hate people who copy. It was an expensive acquisition from B & M Bargains, the go to place.

(Wednesday 20^th December)

The One

We have always supported our local milkman so we decide to get our additional Christmas supplies from him but when I look at their website, all the cream is out of stock. That’s not very organised of them and not very good for his Christmas tip either.

I have lunch with my brother at Peacock which is quite good despite us having to drive there.

While L’s having yet another Christmas lunch although this appears to be ‘the one’ and not just another fuddle. L is impressed although her boss apparently isn’t. From her description it sounds a lot better than my meal on Friday.

Daughter is on her way over for a week or so. So she’ll be able to join us at a few parkruns.

After work I head off to the gym for a quick 15k wattbike then it’s home to kick off one of the festive traditions and make some Stilton pate.

(Thursday 22^nd December)

World's Worst Fuddle

I’m on the bike but, as I’m running a bit late, I miss out on this morning's joint dog walk.

The dog walk is getting problematic as the earlier we go, in order to get to work/gym/etc on time, the darker it is which means the harder it is to see MD’s ball. L keeps saying she’s going to sort it and get something more brightly coloured even if MD has to put up with something in dayglow pink. Still, it’s always good to have your balls sorted.

Santamas means L is railroaded into (allegedly) the world's worst fuddle with chips and pizza ordered but arriving several hours apart. I suppose Deliveroo are a bit stretched this time of year. Whatever happened to sausage rolls and mince pies.

Tonight it’s the last dog training and the last pint of Directors of the year.

(Tuesday 20^th December)

Definitely Not A Fuddle

On the bus, my legs are still refusing to come out and play.

Squash is tonight having been moved forward because of Frank's 2000^th on Thursday. Apparently this will be the final one of the year so my opponent can start his Christmas festivities. A bit early!

I offered to let him play next week in fancy dress with tinsel wrapped around his racquet and wine in his sports bottle but he isn’t interested in those sort of festivities. Apparently exercise levels have to be reduced to zero for the entire festive period. Personally I see it as a chance to up them but each to their own.

L misses the post-game social as she’s at her Book Club’s Annual Meal aka Fuddle. She hates fuddles so I daren’t ask how the sausage rolls were. She has taken grapes. So proud. We still have the Squash Club’s Annual Meal (definitely not a fuddle) to organise. 

The boys and I walk up to meet her on her way home. 

(Tuesday 13^th December)

Marquee Signing

I’m in the car today because I am expecting delivery of a banner to go on the front of the marquee at next weekend’s dog show. It arrives as promised and everything appears to be spelt correctly so we are good to go. It should be nice and eye catching.

Talking of eye catching, someone has owned up to all those statements about the ‘Pies’ which are spray painted on various bridges. 'Vote Pies' and all that. They belong to a Liverpudlian band known as The Pies although I find it hard to believe that anybody who cared wouldn't have already known this given the obviousness of the link and checking the internet this has been a open secret for well over a decade. So either it’s a slow news day or it’s something to do with the fact their album ‘The Best of Pies’ is out now.

Talking of pies, Thunder Run weekend is rapidly approaching and our team mates seem to be assembling the biggest collection of snack food known to man in readiness. It is going to be one hell of a fuddle.

After work I head to the gym for a quickie. I probably should have been using tonight’s Notts 5 as a warm up for the weekend but I didn’t really want to risk my leg snapping pre-fuddle.

We decide it’s about time we studied the rules and regulations for the weekend, so we adjourn to the bedroom with my laptop. As it turns out there aren’t many rules at all and there’s no mention of where to changeover your dogs. This is important as Doggo would love to get in the way of all those hand overs. I’m sure he’ll manage it.

(Wednesday 20^th July)

Squash Club Annual Christmas Dinner

Another bike ride on what appears to be a lovely spring morning in December. This weather is certainly odd.

L has a lunchtime ‘bloody’ fuddle tomorrow and Santa is coming too. Sounds like a class occasion. She could of course decline on the basis that it’s the Squash Club Annual Christmas Dinner this evening and she needs to save herself but she’s too polite to do so. Hope she saves a pork pie for me.

I actually win the final squash game of the year although not the match. Then it’s on to the always sparsely populated (although almost busy tonight) Jewel Restaurant which is just across the road from the Portland Centre where we play.

The Canapés and Bucks Fizz (or similar) are booked for 7.45. The following meal is ok but nothing spectacular.

(Thursday 17^th December)

Wig Wednesday

I'm reliably informed that today is Wig Wednesday. If only I’d known earlier I could have slipped something under my bike helmet. L’s work are even having a fuddle to celebrate the occasion. WTF. Perhaps I ought to commemorate the great day with a pint.

L plans to run the Beeston 5 tonight, then changes her mind, then changes it again. This girl is supposed to be enthused. She says she was enthused, then she wasn’t. When she texts me from the start line I guess we can assume she is enthused again. The boys and I head off to watch.

Post-race, we anoint the greatness of Wig Wednesday by popping in the Victoria Inn. The drinks are on L as she has a ‘moving office’ bonus burning a hole in her pocket. I need something to shift the headache that I’m sure has been brought on by having to drink decaffeinated coffee all day at work because the real stuff has run out. Isn’t that the wrong way around?

We’ve not been in the Victoria for a quite while. It was once a regular of ours but it just hasn’t kept pace with the beer boom elsewhere and fell out of favour. Plus it's a long way for Doggo to walk these days. It has a lot of beers, at least ten, but they are all pretty much standard bitters with nothing really over 4% plus one dark ale and a mild. Fortunately the dark ale is Tuck and that saves the day.

(Wednesday 20^th May)