A Happy Place

L makes a persuasive case for not cycling, the weather is foul. So I go into work on the bus. It is wet but it does stop long enough for my colleague and I to manage a pub lunch.

Leamington Spa has been voted one of the happiest places to live. It’s an interesting choice but not one shared by me. We’ve had numerous trips to visit Son there and clearly happiness is a lack of real pubs and nowhere that sells food on a Sunday. So clearly they have different criteria to me.

The boys and I are dog training tonight while L is going over to Daughter’s for tea. I hope she gets a demonstration of her washing machine, we do have shares in it after all.

(Wednesday 11^th October)

All The Better For It

Back on the bike and I’m running so late, so it was a bit fast but all the better for it.

Lunch time bring a pub lunch in the Brunswick and then it’s dog training again later.

Back to (dog) school in September for a new term always bring a few new recruits and I head along to initiate a few more.

L heads over to Daughter’s for tea and for a run. Sounds like she’s ready as she’ll ever be for the Great North Run.

(Wednesday 6^th September)

One Rush Around Too Far

No training today as I’m in the car again, so that I can help collect stuff from storage at our training venue tonight to take to the show site for the weekend. Before that, my colleague and I do a pub lunch.

I had thought about rushing through the transporting of the show stuff to get to The Run at Breaston but it really is just one rush around too far.

As it happens I get delayed anyway, as I end up driving someone’s rickety old car over to the show site while they drive the Land Rover than is pulling our trailer of show stuff.

(Wednesday 26^th July)

Time Heals The Deepest Of Wounds

This morning bike ride was almost excellent, if only it hadn’t been for the stiff breeze that I was pedalling into. Apparently it’s all muscle building stuff.

Today’s pub lunch help with my recovery.

We still have no race for this Sunday. It now boils done to a choice of donning fancy dress and wearing a false moustache for the Mo Run on Wollaton Park or travelling over for the Coventry 10K.

The name ‘Coventry 10K’ sounds almost idyllic until you release that the race only cover a very small part of non-central Coventry parkland know as War Memorial Park. Three and a quarter times. We did it around ten years ago and swore never again but time heals the deepest of wounds.

L sounds keen but then she’ll wonder why she let me talk her into it although it actually sounds like she’s trying to talk me into it or perhaps she's trying to talk me into talking her into it.

 

It’s a tough choice and there is a third option e.g. a Saturday night out in town followed by a lie-in. Which doesn't really compare with 3+ loops of War Memorial Park.

As for tonight, we have a quiet night in that is after L has crawled home from Pump. Then I lock her in the bedroom at her own request to keep her out of the fridge.

(Wednesday 16^th November)

A Lack Of The Dark And Interesting

On the bike again today.

We do a pub lunch from work today but nothing dark and interesting is on the bar at the Brunswick.

MD gets his third dogging session in three days. He’s exhausted but then he has to haul himself up out of bed to help us pick Daughter up off the late train which doesn't get in until 00:40. Which is almost my own bedtime. She is in Nottingham for an interview tomorrow at the City Hospital.

(Wednesday 7^th September)

Simply Not Meant To Be

Today is a momentous occasion, it is Doggo’s 15^th birthday. I, sort of, celebrate it with a pub lunch. He would have liked that, had he not been stuck at home.

L is in Leamington meeting up with Son although yet again there is a fatality on the line (this always seems to happen to her) which disrupts her journey. It wasn’t her train involved by the way.

I pedal home quickly with the intention of getting the lawn cut before heading off to pick up L from the train station. Unfortunately (for the lawn) but, as it turns out, fortunately (for me) L gets home earlier than expected and distracts me with a better offer. The lawn can wait.

She also forgot to take Son the chocolates we bought him in Bruges, so we conclude it’s simply not meant to be and eat them ourselves. 

(Wednesday 10^th August)