More Death Threats Than Salman Rushdie

It’s good to see that the chap on the folding bike has got his normal bike back but that means there's no keeping up with him today.

Another birthday in the family today. MD is one. He’s done well to make it to that milestone; the little one’s had more death threats than Salman Rushdie. L treated him to a handful of Doggo’s 'grown up' dog food this morning, now that's he's a 'big boy', not that he's really allowed it until he's 18 months old. Mind you, Doggo's not allowed the puppy food at all but try keeping him off it.

I scout around for a candle to put on MD's food but I can't find any, which is probably for the best, he’d probably have burnt his whiskers as he devoured the lighted candle.

I have my swimming stuff with me, so after work I head to the pool. Both L and I are now in training for Hathersage, which has one of those swim things in it. L of course will be looking forward to that but dreading the bit I love, the bike.

I overtake a runner on the way to the pool and was then was a bit surprised to see them stood behind me in the queue at the leisure centre but even more surprised to see them go in the gym and then opt for a long treadmill session. Why?

It’s my first experience of the new Tuesday lane session, it’s quieter than the Wednesday one. I might make this a regular night.

I get home and go on the park where the birthday boy is his usual ebullient self. He sees off a little highland terrier, flexing those newly acquired big boy muscles.