I volunteer to take MD for his morning walk. If I had any doubt about how much the cycling and hedge cutting had made my arms ache, MD casts aside this doubt with a vengeance and at the same time makes things ten times worse.
L's back doing her channel swim and hopefully not being bothered by Swiss men with rockets attached to themselves zooming about overhead.
She also stolen my little towel, which I won with such blood, sweat and tears at last year's Jagermeister 10k. Well ok, I won it in the raffle but I don't mind her helping herself. MD did, and that's why the corner of it's a bit chewed.
The newspapers are predicting power cuts, blackouts and early TV shut down this winter. How very retro, so 1970's. L paints an idyllic picture of this, of us snuggled up with candles lit, a glass of mulled wine warmed on our camping stove and two well-behaved collies warming our feet. This does sound rather good. No Hollyoaks, no Warcraft. All sounding better by the minute. Not quite sure where we'd get two well-behaved collies from and, as for, collies and candles, I shiver to think.
I pop home briefly to deliver two 'healthy' ready meal spaghetti bolognaise's for the kids, which MD promptly drags off the worktop. I retrieve them quickly before he can open the packaging and hope no one notices the teeth marks.
At dog class, they're all pleased to see the little scrote. On the way home, we collect L, who's been out in Derby, but it's basically just another social call for MD.