Too Much Swinging

I gather than both of the intrepid girls from Saturday are still feeling a bit battered this morning. In her defence, L points out that in last year’s blog I mentioned that I wasn’t exactly 100% either and was suffering with aching arms, neck, back and shoulders from too much swinging on the monkey bars. Ah happy memories. The only thing is I don’t recall either of them doing any of the monkey bars.

Rather worryingly her Sis seems to have got quite a buzz from it and she says she is definitely on for next year... L wasn’t expecting that. She vows to pump a lot more iron and find something to practice swinging on.

I dump a load of books in the recycling that have been evicted (and about time too) from Daughter’s bedroom. Quite a few seem to be school library books... hmmm, some of them seem to be five years late but I’ll drop them in at the school, as long as they don’t expect me to pay the fines for them.

No training for the dogs tonight, so we hit the park instead. It’s packed even though it’s already starting to get dark. We pass a chap who is training his woman by making her run up the hills and hop around cones. I’m obviously too soft with L. Though I’m not sure whether he’s her loving partner or just her personal trainer, or perhaps both. It’s nearly seven o’clock and he’s making her do all this in near darkness. I’m impressed and take notes for my future personal training career. He obviously wasn’t very happy with her Survival Of The Fittest time.

(Monday 11th October)

In Need Of A Brown Paper Bag

It’s a bit cold this morning, especially on the bike but in the home it certainly isn’t, despite what the girls in the house might say (it’s never warm enough for them). The central heating is still working.

I feel sorry for a fellow cyclist who stops to let out at motorist from a side road and then nearly gets mown down by another car turning left from behind. He won’t do that again. Most cyclists are this nice to motorists when they start out, usually being one themselves, but it soon gets battered out of you after a few months cycling to work.

L got her bike out as well today, or the dreaded bike as she prefers to calls it, and made it to the pool for a swim. Seems she was pleased she did. As not only did she get a bike and a swim, she got to share the pool with a lifesaving class, complete with allegedly hunky lycra clad lifeguards. Glad I missed it.

I try and administer the kiss of life to Daughter’s ailing ipod, well itunes does. Not that itunes has ever achieved anything positive for me and it doesn’t for Daughter’s ipod either. It’s making a strange noise, I think something terminal has gone inside. It appears to be an ex-ipod, a deceased one. Funeral arrangements and where you can send flowers to will be announced in due course.

The hell of technology problems. Our CD drive at home is also deceased, so I churn my way through twelve disks of Sophie Kinsella converting them to mp3, so that I can bring her home with me tonight, for L you understand. Now all I need is the digital equivalent of a brown paper bag to cover that part of my hard drive, in case I get caught with something dodgy on my computer.



In the evening L takes Doggo out for a walk. I take MD to class. He’s such a well behaved dog at class, no idea why L moans about him.