The weather is irritatingly similar to yesterday, e.g. not very good and I arrive at work annoyingly damp rather than soaked.
I check my virtual cycling map, and blimey, I’m at Gretna, two-thirds of the way to John O'Groats. I'll have to start thinking of my next challenge soon.
Did you see that Welsh road sign? In Wales they have signs in both English and Welsh and when they sent the text for a new sign off for translation, they got a reply by email (in Welsh) that said 'I am not in the office at the moment. Please send any work to be translated'. Therefore, that's what went up on the sign. You think they'd employ someone who speaks Welsh.
I cycle home, via the pool, which is very quiet; everybody must be out at fireworks displays.
When I get home, I have a 'Powerbar' energy bar to tide me over for dog class. I shall eat properly later. I have one bite and place it on top of my bookcase. Seconds later, when I turn back around, it's gone. I look down at the angelic puppy that is sat beautifully and obediently next to the bookcase... licking its lips. Oh damn (to put it politely), how am I going to explain this one to the rest of the puppy-frazzled family?
He's chucked out in the garden as a punishment, not that he sees that as such. I can hear him running around and barking manically. Something I'm sure he'll now have the energy to do for even longer than usual.
Despite the fact its Bonfire night, dog training tonight is on my popular vote. Although I don't think Doggo was one of those who voted for it. He is fine at first until a rather large explosion goes off right overhead. His concentration wanes a bit after that, he doesn't actually put a paw wrong, it's just that he practically crawls around the course.
Naturally, MD who comes along for the ride isn't fazed at all and, powered by 'Powerbar' seems incredibly energetic.