Oh Deer

With all three days of Black Friday over, my inbox is now full of Cyber Monday emails. At least as it’s now the 1st of December so I can now officially start thinking about Christmas but... I think I’ll leave it another week.

I see this fetching attire in Sainsbury’s.

It would be ideal for L when she's running the gauntlet with MD through all the deer on Wollaton Park. I wonder if you can get a matching dog jacket.

Dogging is off again tonight and L’s run in Derby is also cancelled. They are going for a curry instead of a run. No such similar offer was forthcoming from my dogging crew.

So I swim again and my Russian spy is there again. Tonight I’m sure she’s racing me as she matches me stroke for stroke in the next lane even though I know she can swim much faster than me. Women can be such a tease at times. As can the coffee machine, which still isn’t working.

(Monday 1^st December)

The Cycling Gauntlet

I’m hurt, mentally. I’ve been at work for two hours and L’s not asked yet if I’m alive, having ridden the cycling gauntlet again... I could be in a ditch somewhere. She’s apologetic when I point out her lack of concern.

It's probably the pain of being back at work, which is also making her consider drowning her stresses in Waterstones because she’s not allowing herself booze or chocolate this week. AF and CF, well she ought to be BF as well. That mountainous book pile alongside her side of the bed can’t really take another addition. It’s already doubtful whether those at the bottom will see daylight again in myhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif lifetime. AF, BF and CF, L's ABC of being ‘free from’.

The local press are up in arms that they’ve changed the recipe of HP sauce, which was conceived in Nottingham. What they don’t mention is that the once great ‘British’ sauce is now made in Holland. I've been boycotting it ever since. Although Wikipedia says the sachets are made in Telford, so perhaps I’ll nick a few of them the next time I’m out.

I pedal home as fast as I can following an SOS from Daughter. Typically a few days before she goes off to Uni her computer has decided to break down. The prognosis does not look good, as I have a quick look before heading off to dog class.

Meanwhile Daughter heads off out for yet another round of tearful goodbyes before she becomes a Yorkshireite (be careful how you say that) or perhaps the term's a Yorkie? I thought all the goodbye-ing would be done through Facebook these days but apparently not. Although a lack of a computer wouldn’t help...

Christmas is going to be manic for her if during her fortnight off she has to fit in a week of tearful hellos and another week of tearful goodbyes, somehow slotting Christmas in the middle of it.

(Wednesday 14th September)