Wielding His Spanner In The Last Chance Saloon

6am and time for the now potentially semi-regular Monday morning run. We go around the pond but it's so muddy that we come back along the road, much to Doggo's disgust. MD is also a bit peeved that I don't let him off. I'm not risking letting that skittish creature off in the dark.

Once at work, an email comes through from L bragging that she's also done 40 lengths in the pool, on top of the run, and is therefore one up on me as the day stands. She’ll be well up on me by the end of the week. I'm faced with three days in the car and no swim this week. :-(

L's been for a bit of a health check and her GP tells her she's officially 'very fit'. Which is good news. 'Bring on the crunchy nut cornflakes', she says. Ugh. Not sure that would have been my first thought. Also apparently, even her liver is 'happy'. Whatever that means. I doubt mine is but I didn't know you could get it checked so easily, I'll have to have mine done. So it's a celebratory glass of red tonight then, she's obviously keeping her units too low, unless that is, her GP means her liver is happy because she's keep it so well oiled.

L takes her work home at lunchtime, so that she can be there for when the gasman comes to 'not' fix the boiler again and because he's there to 'fix' the heating it needs to be broken (e.g. off) when he comes, so L's a touch cold because the dogs have naturally demanded that the kitchen door be wide open. When the man arrives, I hope he realises that he's wielding his spanner in the last chance saloon but of course, he fails to fix it yet again.

Later, I take both dogs to Doggo's class and then come home to watch the rest of The Deer Hunter, which we started to watch last night. It's supposed to be a classic film but, just as it did when I watched it the first time years ago, it left me rather underwhelmed.