Life Back At The Sharp End

Back to work on the day the NHS hands people another reason not to take any exercise. They say that if you're struggling to schedule a fitness routine into your daily life then don't bother and just stay in bed, where you can burn around 300 calories an hour, as long as you're 'working out' and not sleeping. So expect an increase in the number of sickies this week. Of course Mr and Mrs Blobby would do well to last for the meagre seven minutes that's described as 'normal', let alone any longer.

L's back in the swing of things. 'Good Morning - Not' as her first email says. Just a usual Monday morning.

So too Doggo, coping with life back at the sharp end in his usual way, dog style, by sleeping through it. In fact he's probably chilling on the sofa in the lounge right now, not that he's allowed to you understand and I always shut him in the kitchen when we go out. So either Doggo has learnt how to open doors or he has an accomplice who is opening them for him.

Over lunch I do the dirty deed and enter the Clumber Duathlon. L promises to get her cheerleader pom-poms out. That should cause a few wobbles in transition.

Back to school in the evening, dog class, where a lot of running about is required because it's bloody freezing in the barn where we train.