"for the happy, the sad, I don't want to be, another page in your diary"
Showing posts with label stags. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stags. Show all posts

Friday, 5 May 2017

Blameless

On the bike today.

Doggo is playing us for fools with his eating habits these days. This morning he mopped his bowl clean but then rice and potatoes does tend to hit the spot. Well, anything that's not dog food basically. We'll probably be the same at that age.

After some stags are rescued from the main road having escaped Wollaton Park, I have to check with L that they weren’t given a helping hand in escaping from MD. Apparently he’s blameless.

L goes to physio but it was very brief. The way things are going the NHS will be doing it all online soon to save time. She now has even more stretches to do but has been told not to stop any exercise although she didn't own up to running and having the Thunder Run looming. 

At lunch I palm my last old fiver off on Greggs.

Tonight’s Friday night is followed by curry and wine. My kind of evening.

(Friday 5th May)

Sunday, 1 December 2013

One Day I Might Make Mine



L runs the Coalville 10k which is at Snibston Discovery Museum this morning. It’s organised by the same people who did the Loughborough Half Marathon. It’s also clearly done very much on the cheap but a run is a run when you need one and it’s a good place for L to make her comeback. One day I might make mine...

Instead I walk the dogs. MD takes a dislike to some stags, which are actually artificial statues but he barks them off all the same. I take him up close so that he can see how statuesque they are but he’s still not convinced and converses nosily with each one in turn.

There are quite a few runners in festive fancy dress today, that is if you count a pig onesie as festive. The Santa suits are quiet festive though and a chap with a chicken on his head comes in second. I don’t think he could lay his hands on a turkey.

In the afternoon it’s the dog club's AGM where I’m elected club secretary. Somebody has to do it and everybody, apart from me, thought it ought to be me.

In the evening we make up for a Saturday in with a night in the Falcon on the promise of either their new Christmas Ale or their Butterscotch Winter Warmer. Neither are on sadly, so it’s another night on the excellent Tuck.

(Sunday 1st December)