Life's What You Make It

On Monday, an apple and a slice of toast mysteriously disappear off the worktop. On Tuesday, an apple and a tomato mysteriously disappear off the worktop. I’m really not sure L feeds that dog. By Wednesday, L seems to have learnt her lesson.

On Monday I meet a chap from Nottingham City Homes to chat about the damage their lack of gardening next door has caused to our fence. He says it’s our fault for only telling them a year ago rather than two years ago when the problem first became apparent. As they did nothing when I told them anyway, I can’t see how this is a get out clause.

The boys are thrilled to have two people to turn up and kick balls but not so thrilled when we don’t stay long.

Derby are at Forest in the evening and lose. I don’t waste my money by paying to watch it on TV.

On Tuesday Mark Hollis of Talk Talk fame dies. Oh no. That’s very sad and ends my hopes of them reforming. Which was admittedly a distant hope given that he’d given it up performing for his family over 20 years ago.

“Life's what you make it, celebrate it, anticipate it, yesterday's faded, nothing can change it, life's what you make it.”

On Wednesday, I cycle for what is the first time in ages, I’m such a waster. There’s no Dogging in the evening because I go Tuesday instead so that after work on Wednesday we can duct tape the cheese and hide the cake before heading down to Luton Airport where we are staying in the Holiday Inn overnight before flying to Warsaw in the morning.

(Wednesday 27^th February)

Better Than Nothing

On the bike today for the first time this week. It’s oddly cold for April and of course wet. April showers I suppose.

L braves a pump class and in her words ‘wimps’ her way through it using embarrassingly minuscule weights. Better than nothing I say.

In the evening I head off dogging after popping some potatoes in the oven for the dogs. Yes, the dogs get hot potatoes after dog training while I make do with a few slices of toast beforehand. Although L does offer to have some hot tart waiting for when I get home and they’ll be custard as well if I play my cards right.

(Wednesday 13^th April)

Coffee, Toast And Balls

Parkrun this morning. The boys and I tag along for coffee, toast and balls. We are deeply honoured that L can fit us into her busy schedule.

Coffee and toast goes well, balls less so. The boys lose theirs in the car park, in the deeply sloping busy car park. They have to be despatched back into the car whilst I go scrabbling on my knees trying to find out under which cars they have wedged themselves.

We’re all so exhausted after that, we have to go back to bed in the afternoon.

In the evening, not fancying anything that’s on at the cinema we head to the Falcon for drinks. The Tuck isn’t on but instead they have Black Beauty Milk Stout as part of Nottingham’s Stout and Porter trail. The Stout and Porter trail is a very good idea but now that most pubs as stocking one such beer all year round it would be good to see places like the Falcon stocking an additional whilst the trail is on.

We move on eventually for the sake of variety but the Borlase next door fails miserably to have a decent trail offering so we finish up in Hand & Heart. Then we pick up curry from Park Tandoori on the way home. One of those perfect beer, sex and curry days.

(Saturday 21^st March)

The Damage

L asks if anyone commented on my new head injury. Oh yes, lots of comments. The police will be round to speak to her soon I imagine.

Scruffys is now toast, although we already knew that. Now it actually is called Toast. 

Although I don’t think they sell any, it’s mainly cakes, and it’s not a great name for a prosperous business. Italian beers... not much to tempt me.

L is out in Derby and I’m dog training, where it’s dark so no one notices the damage.

(Monday 23^rd September)

The Toaster Is Toast

L has upset our toaster. She claimed to only have moved it to clean underneath it but that was enough for it to down tools and when I gave it a prod, it sparked at me. We have previous. It has never liked me and has never given me toast of the colour I wanted. Time for a new one perhaps.

So during the weekly shop at Sainsbury, I pick up one of their own brand ‘Basics’ toaster. Surely you can’t go wrong for £4.50. We’ll see. It'll probably hate me too, even at that price.

At dog training I have to contend with the person who won MD’s final the other week. We manage to not come to blows and MD trains well.

(Monday 2^nd September)