Gridlock

L's looking better but far from 100%. She seems keen to pay me back for her romantic muddy treat yesterday and indulge in some sex. I figure its best not to turn her down in case she expires before I next get chance.

In car again because I'm doing the pub run.

Lunchtime and the Farmers Blonde goes down a treat, very tasty (Bradfield's 4.0%). As was the Steak And Kidney Pie. The new kitchen looks the same as the old one.

Daughter wants to go to the gym tonight. L says "We'll see". That’s Sonspeak. I'm still waiting for him to finish 'seeing' about some things I asked him last year including compiling his Christmas list.

Talking of Son. He's sent L on another wild goose chase, into town for a new computer game. She's not learnt her lesson from last time. After she'd queued for ages she found out that they've not even set a release date for it yet. Bless him. He falls for all the advance marketing etc in his magazines and assumes these things exist. It's like on the music channels just because they're playing the video, you can’t assume you can buy it. These marketing people like to build up huge anticipation before they even think about releasing these products. In some cases if they don't get that, then they decline to release the stuff at all. In the good old days things used to sell on their own merits!

My Editor, L, points out that the hyperlink that I put in yesterday's blog hasn't worked. Good job they're not paying me to promote their service.

Daughter (who apparently is now my new science adviser) informs us that when you cremate your dog you can have the ashes turned into a diamond. I did know that. It was in the news that some woman had three pets made into one diamond but think it’s a total con as it's so bloody expensive. It costs thousands of pounds to have it done. So L's not going to get Doggo on her finger once he’s shagged his last fleece.

In any case she says she'll settle for turning him into a rug or preferably have him turned into a fleece. That would be funny when our next dog shags that fleece. Although as L wants our next dog to be a girl lap dog, she doesn't think that this would be an issue as they don't shag. Although if we got one, I'm sure it would, just to be different.

My squash opponent checks in to let me know that he is 'unfit' enough for tonight's game. Says he's done no exercise, drank last night, one week older, so count him in.

Come out of work in the car and can't even get out of our road for ten minutes such is the gridlock on Pride 'Car' Park. In this sort of situation I would sometimes take a right and go through Alvaston but that way is jammed solid too. So stick with my usual route. Forty minutes and one mile later I finally get off PCP and find out what the problem is. Some joker has coned off one lane of the A52. What’s worse is they've put up a sign saying that they're not removing them for six weeks. Bus tomorrow then. Not that that'll be any quicker but at least I can read the paper and catch up on the East Enders gossip.

Finally get home. In all it takes over an hour, twice the usual amount of time. The phone lines on local radio are busy as people who are stuck on PCP ring in and complain. Some of them have been there for an hour or more, so I seem to have got off lightly.

Start doing a spot of packing. Then L and I take Doggo for a walk and a bit of a stick session. L is looking a little better than she was. Her, Daughter, and Doggo even go for a run later.

Squash again goes pretty much to form. I win one game. Adnams Broadside 4.7% in the pub, which wasn't really as good as it should have been.

Home and L has done a very wonderful Balti, which we have with Naan and Chapattis, as well as some red wine.