ASBOed

Moved the alarm to 6.20, giving me an extra ten minutes to get back into my regular routine. Didn't work. Legs still knackered from Wednesday's cycling and last night's squash. Find I can't move at all. Then as a long pink tongue washes my face, Doggo's not L's, I realise this is because there's a great big hairy collie sat on me. Relief. I'm not paralysed after all.

Radio informs me that England as 200+ for 4 against Australia. I'm not paralysed but clearly I'm delirious.

Good ride in. No disasters. No near disasters. Bloody hard work though, always is when I cycle Wednesday rather than Tuesday. Didn’t see L and Humpalot, our shagaholic dog. Whom L has now barred from the bedroom. Oh dear, I don’t need to ask what he’s done... it'll be some inanimate object that he's shagged but no apparently the Clumber Duathlon entry forms that we need to fill in for our next bout of madness now have paw-prints all over them. It did occur to me as I left this morning that leaving those forms on the bed wasn’t a good idea. She says he now has a bedroom ASBO, which she's going to pin to his ears. Cool! Alongside his rosette?

Get to work and listen to the end of the cricket. At the 10th attempt, on this current tour, England finally beat Australia and in the end quite easily.

Go on the internet and buy tickets for Maximo Park in Nottingham. Daughter is desperate to go to a gig, any gig, but until she is 14 she can't get into any of the venues we go to. Plus we’d also have to sneak in a milk crate for her to stand on. Maximo Park come to Nottingham just two months before her 14th Birthday. I've just found out that one of her faves The Sunshine Underground are coming after that but still before her birthday. I’m afraid I'm going to have to go and she’ll probably kill me.

L's just read my blog and now she thinks she realises why I'm so very keen for her to go to the gym (see 31/01/07). Well she's off to the gym tonight, which is good because I'm cycling. Perversely she asks if we will be walking past the park gates on the way back from the pub tonight. You see! My theory about the gym is correct, just thinking about going is enough! But what does she mean 'on the way back'; I was thinking of on the way TO the pub. Either way it sounds like it could be an interesting evening.

Fairly uneventful ride home. Until I have to turn right at the Coventry Lane junction. I indicate right in plenty of time as I try and pull across the road for the traffic lights. Rather than wave me through the car behind me accelerates. Seems he’d rather drive over the top of me rather than risk the lights changing to red before he gets there. Nice.

Get home and L's prepared soup and homemade mini pizza's to perk me up after my ride. Bless. Seems I may need the energy boost because she has indeed been to the Gym.

A trip to the park gates proves unnecessary as, at long last, I get taken advantage of in my cycling shorts and Daughter only disturbs us once. Long live the Gym.

Afterwards we walk to Beeston with the ASBOed one. Now that I'm not driving, all the strong and dark beers that were on last night are now predictably off to be replaced by beers mainly with the word 'Gold' in the title. There are at least four of these on the bar. Not good. For some reason brewers now think that beers all must be 'golden' to sell, even in the depths of winter. In the good old days, summer beers looked like beer and winter beers looked like black treacle, now everything looks like lager.

Try two golden ones before going for the Stilton Porter, which is blissfully dark. If that doesn't hit the spot there's now dark Leffe which they've just started selling. Although I would feel a bit unpatriotic drinking that when there are other options available.

We sway our way home. Not just due to drunkenness; we have a dog with an erratic walking disorder. Daughter doesn't wait up so we don't get a rollicking for being late.