Oh For The College Life

Warm-up. Then on bike. A nice morning, cold but dry and sunny. I take the Ilkeston route again. I took it very carefully but at the same time I managed to go a bit quicker, so my time wasn’t as disappointing as it was last week. Three minutes quicker in fact but still a good two minutes outside my best. So there’s still room for improvement. L tells me that in her books careful and quicker don't go hand in hand.

Son has an interview at six-form college today at 2.10. L wants him to dress up. Not sure this is a good idea as everybody else will be in jeans and t-shirts. He'd look terribly uncool and out of place.

At 1.45 Son is still typing his personal statement on his computer that he has to take with him. As you can see he is a great believer in preparing well in advance. L is by now getting very frustrated.

We needn't have worried about what he was going to wear because in the end he goes in his school uniform, now that really is uncool. Particularly so compared with the young babe he went in with who looked smart in her pink t-shirt and jeans.

L says there were lads practising guitars in the picnic area. 'Wonderwall' she believes. Very cliché. Apparently a girl in a short dress and boots joins them and it all goes a bit twangy. Well it would wouldn't it, the lads aren't going to be able to maintain a good rhythm with that sort of distraction. Anyhow it doesn't matter how the band sounds as long as you've got the obligatory girl in a short dress and boots in the ensemble.

It all sounds like a really good afternoon out, wish I’d gone along for the ride. Oh for the college life, although I fear it's all going to be a bit wasted on Son.

Anyhow he got a place. Now there's a surprise. Not sure they would actually refuse anyone on interview grounds. L doesn't mention whether the girl in the pink t-shirt got in.

Before I leave for home L tells me to be careful and to not worry about my speed. As it only gives me nightmares. Think she's referring to a bad dream I had last night. Which I think she reckons has something to do with post Duathlon disorder.

As I was cycling home past the entrance to Wollaton Park I saw that two young girls on bikes were trapped inside the park. The park was locked up already, despite the fact it was still light and would still be light for another half an hour or so. The light was so good in fact that I hadn't even bothered to switch my bike lights on. I would guess they were 12 or 13 years old and close to tears. Well there was nothing I could do to release them but I did my best to explain to them how to get out via the golf course. They were a bit worried about cycling such a long way round, so I hope they managed it. If they didn't I do hope one of the park attendants managed to thaw them out ok this morning.

Then after they had cycled off down the path and I'd got back on my bike, I heard someone else rattling the gate. Two joggers had come across the grass and they were locked in too. Fortunately the school gate was still open, so they could squeeze through the fence to the school and out of the school gate, an option not available to the two young girls with their bikes.

Unfortunately this sort of situation happens day in, day out at this time of year and it must be hugely embarrassing for the Park Manager and for the council. Which makes it all the more unbelievable that the council persists in shutting Wollaton Park a full hour before it gets dark. People expect the park to be open and therefore do not look at the signs. The signs themselves may be artistically pleasing but functionally they are useless.

In a week or so, when the gate times change again I will at long last be able to get on the park myself after work to exercise Doggo. Then I will be able to rescue even more people on behalf of the council.

Get home and take Doggo to class. L is worried that she's done him in as she has taken him for two runs today. She's worried I'll curse her if he's rubbish. I had to give her an assurance in writing that I wouldn't, before they went out on the second one. It's only a TYOD (Train Your Own Dog), so I'm not too bothered what state he’s in. In fact he's pretty good (again), although he does tire more quickly. I curse him instead but that's more because he's been particularly gobby tonight.

We are decadent tonight and take a glass of red wine to bed.