Wednesday, 27 February 2008

Earthquake? What Earthquake?

It was certainly rocking round our way last night. At around 1am both L and I woke up with start, wondering what's going on. Probably just rowdy goings on outside. Then there's a crash from the other side of the house, as if something has fallen over. Perhaps something off a shelf in the kitchen or possibly upstairs in the 'lost world' known as the kid's bedrooms. I'm far too comatose to be bothered to investigate, so we both roll over and go back to sleep. Doggo doesn't even move and shrugs it off.

In the morning I have a look around but can't find anything broken. The important stuff, like my bike, are fine. The radio says we've had an earthquake of 5.3 magnitude, the biggest in the UK for almost 25 years. I would like to say that the whole family was awoken and running around the house in a mad panic, as some of the people leaving comments on the BBC website had allegedly done but nope we all just rolled over and went back to sleep, too tired to grasp the enormity of what, or rather wasn't happening. I would have posted some photos of the devastation, had I been able to find any. Doggo probably has it sussed, only an earthquake and nowhere near as terrifying as being hassled by double decker bus when you're trying to sniff an interesting lamppost. Neither of the kids noticed anything. If Son had noticed he would have ignored it, just as he would have done had his bedroom been on fire.

In fact L had even forgotten all about being awoken by the time she got to work. So she wasn't sure what they wanted her to own up to when they brought out the predicable 'did the earth move for you' comments.

L's in work at 8am today because for the first time ever she's taken the car into work and wanted to give herself an hour to drive to work and reverse into the car park. It's only a mile or so away... no comment.

She's got the car because at lunchtime she picks me up from my work and we have an unhappy appointment to go to. A funeral. I'm not sure it's the done thing to compliment your girl on the way to a funeral but I do anyway. She looks great in her work clothes, boots, and stockings; she really does spoil her work colleagues. I won't pass comment on the sombre affair itself but I do come out convinced that I don't want hymns at my funeral, they're always so forced, but then again they'll preferably be no church at my funeral either.

I drop L back at work for her evening clinic and spend the rest of the afternoon at home. I try and do a few improvements to my bike. This isn't easy with an annoying dog trying to knock my bike over with his ball. I have to take it off him so that I can concentrate. Even then I don't think it's any better. I switch the computer on and check my emails, which isn't easy with a dog nudging your arm all the time wanting you to go back outside and play ball. That is despite the fact that I've already kicked it 50 odd times. It's almost impossible to do anything that requires thought when you have a dog.

I still manage to fit in my usual Wednesday swim. This week I count 32 in the pool when I arrive. Hang on, there's two more, make that 34. The best option is the lane with only three in it, only problem is its lane one. They all look 'friendly' so I give it a go. The pace is ok until a few students arrive and stand at one end chatting and doing ‘quick ones’. They could almost be protégées of Mr SS (Mr Stop-Start). After my 20 minutes, I count time because I can’t count lengths; I get out and pass Mr SS on his way in. Whew, that was close. I count 28 in the pool as I leave.

I complete a busy day by taking the annoying football loving creature for half an hour of training, just to wipe the smile off his face. Then home to L, who takes a whisky to bed. I'm good and don't.

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