Homework

I need to up MD’s training so I set the hurdles up in the garden to do some homework with him. Then I have to banish Doggo indoors because he keeps getting in the way. Somehow I don’t think he wants MD to step into his shoes on the agility circuit.

Later I settle down to watch the cycling on BBC2. As usual the BBC’s coverage drives me up the wall. Recapping the previous two days is fine but why not do it before the live coverage starts rather than during. Again you end up peering over the presenter’s shoulder trying to see the live racing that is happening on the track whilst they talk about yesterday and then show you highlights of the ‘live’ action later.

Naturally we landed more medals. On Saturday Chris Hoy led home a British 1-2-3 in the men's sprint beating team mate Matt Crampton in the final with Jason Kenny in third. Wendy Houvenaghel took gold in the individual pursuit, qualifying fastest and catching Australia's Josephine Tomic with a lap to go in the final. Lizzie Armitstead made up for a poor scratch race on Friday, by her standards, by winning the points race.

Hoy was it again today, anchoring the sprint team to victory, partnered by Ross Edgar and Jamie Staff, they beat a team of young British pretenders, comprising of Kenny, Crampton and David Daniell, in to second place.

Both men’s and women’s squads won team pursuit gold. The women’s team of Houvenaghel, Armitstead and Jo Rowsell set a new world record in the process. While the men’s team of Steven Burke, Ed Clancy, Andrew Tennant and Geraint Thomas had to settle for only the second-fastest time in history but a track record none the less.

A bad day for Victoria Pendleton though, who got her tactics all wrong and finishing fifth in the keirin. All the same 10 gold medals ain’t bad.



Later we open one of the bottles of English wine that we brought back from Eastbourne. Excellent stuff. It appears that what they say, about England producing some really good wines these days, is true. Now if only they could do something about the price!

Thoughtless Animals

It's my turn to run into work today, it feels good, not bad at all and it doesn’t even rain. I can’t cycle because I’ve got a bit of a beer thing going on in Derby tonight.

Daughter apparently wants pet pig. Yes, one of those diddy ones. Perhaps this has been her master plan all along and explains the sty like conditions she’s been cultivating in her bedroom for the last sixteen years.



Yes they’re cute but they sound a bit boring compared with our dogs. They don't moult, they don't chew and they don't need to go for a walk. Hmmm, perhaps there’s something in it after all. It would be no good at agility though, with those little legs I’d had to give it a bunk up over the hurdles and I’d never get it over the A Frame.

Not sure MD would be impressed either. I remember what happened to the last pig we had in the house. It was only a toy but MD pulled its ears, nose and feet off and then dumped it in a hole he’d dug in the garden.

Later, I find out that one of the two guys I was meeting has been delayed in London and is going to be late getting back. So the other guy and I have to wait in the pub for him, for a couple of hours. Oh the hardship. The downside is it means we have less time to eat. So when he finally arrives and we head off for food, we ingeniously roll the starters and mains into one. Thankfully they find us a big enough table. Then after we've demolished that lot, I have to leave them to it to catch my bus. It’s been fun but it’s time to head home, in to the arms and paws of my nearest and dearest. Though this does leave them contemplating (loudly, for my benefit) the dessert menu. L tells me the dogs have already forced her to bed with them. Against her will obviously, the thoughtless animals.

Gale Force

Today isn’t the day of the qualifier; instead we have another show as a warm-up, which is being held on what appears to be Middlesbrough FC’s training academy or at least part of it. So the facilities are pretty good; the grass flat and well manicured. Far too good for dogs.

The only downside is the gale force winds that seem to have taken a grip. It’s far too windy to spend too long outside and the dogs and I end up holed up in the car, watching everything tumble across the field propelled by the wind:- plastic chairs, hurdles and the occasional Patterdale Terrier. I might have to move the car if the heavier equipment such as A Frames start to roll.

We are clear in all four of our individual runs and only mess up in the pairs much to our partners annoyance, where Doggo has a pole down. To be fair to Doggo, we were only railroaded in to the pairs competition at the last minute. So not too bothered. No repeats tomorrow though, I hope.

We take rosettes for 10th in one event and 7th in another. Well we think we got 7th because we don’t get the rosette because ninety minutes after the event finished there was still some controversy about the result. Some of the score sheets had been lost, including those of a couple of folks who claimed to have a high placing, although this was in the grade 7 class that ran alongside our class, so didn’t directly affect us. Although if they’d lost two tickets from that class, how many more might have been lost from others. Possibly in our class too. I gave up waiting after a while and headed back to the cottage, knowing I may never found out what happened because shows are rarely hi-tech enough to post results on the internet or any modern medium like that.

L and Daughter have been taking in the sights of Middlesbrough, which I don’t think took too long. No offence Middlesbrough. Despite that, L likes it here and wants to move here, Saltburn that is not Middlesbrough, but then she always says that when we go away.



It’s probably also due to the gale force winds, we like that sort of thing. Well most of the time. When we take the dogs on the beach later, the waves are huge and the sand is blowing sideways. So we don’t allow the dogs a dip in the sea. Doggo looks crestfallen. We decide a much better idea is to see if the Copper Ale is still on. It is. Doggo spits out his pork crunch in disgust. MD, always the opportunist, steps in and scoffs it for him.



Typically I miss a good game of football back in Derby, where the Rams win 3-0. I didn’t see that one coming. It’s such a rarity that I force myself to stay up for the Football League highlights, which are on really late and after a busy day and a few Copper Ales is not easy.

The Male Perspective

A bit of a ‘normal persons’ day today. No shows, no races. Instead a bit of food shopping, walking the dogs, hedge cutting... nothing very exciting.

Suppose I do fit in a bit of training with MD, that is after I've repaired the garden to make it safe to run around by filling in all the holes he’s dug. Then I have to repair the hurdles that he’s chewed... Eventually we get down to some training.

After we’ve had a good session and I've gone back inside the house, I look out of the window to see him batting all three poles off the hurdles with his paw, then trying to pull the rubber supports out with his teeth, so that he can chew them. Not happy!

Meanwhile L and Daughter are in town searching for shoes to go with her prom dress. It'll be the last time she sees most of her school year and personally I think she’d make more of a lasting impression in thigh length boots but obviously that’s the male perspective. The shoes are actually rather impressive; as well as pink (but we'll gloss over that), I just hope she’s ok with heights.

In the evening we go for a wander round some of the pubs in Wollaton. It’s been some time since we last looked into the ones that we don’t normally frequent. The ‘Willoughby’ is no longer known as the Willoughby but despite a bit of a paint job not much else has changed, the layout has never been conducive to ‘just going for a drink’ and this hasn't changed. The food was never any good either, so hopefully they’ve improved that. They have a trio of ales on which is a good effort and a slight improvement but still nothing very exciting, so we don’t stay.

‘Middletons’ which was formerly the ‘Roebuck’ is now a totally different pub and seems to be an improvement. They have five ales on, so we decided to stay, again nothing earth shattering but enough to keep us entertained on a low alcohol night. Three halves... must be a race on.