We’re Doomed

You wouldn’t believe this, well actually you would. We can’t play squash at Clifton next week because the squash court is booked for Pilates. I ask you, typical pandering to the minorities. Unfortunately its squash they see as the minority sport these days and this sounds like the beginning of the end for the squash courts at Clifton to me. A dozen souls in there Pilatering at £4 a go = £48. Two people playing squash = £6. We’re doomed. We managed to negotiate an early game at 6.15 before the Pilates starts.

Shouldn't we be receiving the special treatment reserved for minorities now, isn’t that what councils are supposed to be all about? I can feel another letter to the council coming on.

This was our second choice venue as well, because our first, Portland, was booked up solid from after work until 8.30. So much for squash being unpopular and this is trying to book a whole week in advance.

I drown-ish my sorrows in a lunch time pint and a Thai curry, which isn’t bad for a pub.

Daughter tells she is dying; she’s managed to acquire a cold. She’d better not die. Talk about bad timing, if she’d died last week, then fine but not now, we’ve just paid out for a bus pass and an NUS card. I don’t think she’s started going ‘oink oink’ yet.

MD’s classes restart today, rain permitting. It's drizzling as I head over there, so I'm not optimistic. L runs there as part of her marathon training; it’s something like 15 miles. I kerb crawl on the way there but I can’t see her. It stays dry-ish and MD does well. That is apart from bending all their weave poles. Over the summer, I've been training him on poles you stick in the ground, which he can nudge out of the way, like a slalom skier does. The proper poles at class have steel bases, to make them immoveable, no matter how hard the dog hits them, well that was the theory. MD managed it.

We train in the gathering gloom until L has makes it there, just in time for me to give her a lift home.