Oyster Fishing

Biked in but it was a bloody awful ride. Immediately regretted going Sandiacre way. The roads were so busy, I presume because people are avoiding the A52. I might have to reassess my route. Suppose Ilkeston might be better but then again it might not, spent more time on the pavement this morning than on the road.

L emails to say that unbeknown to all of us, except presumably Son, he had his first GCSE this morning. We thought all his exams started on 21st May. I heard him say this morning that he was doing some last minute French revision but assumed he had a test to revise for, not an exam but no he had a French oral this morning. Straight away my thoughts turn Madame Bovary and apple trees.

L points out that my blog entry on the aforementioned Madame Bovary made no mention of oysters. She is referring to the fact that in the film one of Madame Bovary's lovers made a suggestive remark about spreading the oyster to bring out the pearl or something like that.

Opt for the Ilkeston route on the way home, although I get lost trying to follow a cycle route to Spondon. The signs just suddenly stopped. Don't know why I was surprised really. All in all, though a good ride home.

Son says his French oral went well. Cue more thoughts of Madame Bovary.
I had intended to go straight out for a ‘brick’ run but none of the stuff I’m wearing for cycling is suitable for running. Therefore I strip everything off. Once I'm standing there naked, with L in the room, who is looking rather overdressed; it seems silly to rush straight out for a run. We end up on the bed, oyster fishing.

Very satisfying. L even proves that her ribs on the mend by going on top. I won't however be winning any prizes for the speed of my transition.

Some aches dealt with, others now intensified, I go out on my run. Doggo tags along and falls out with one of his enemies, the wiry thing near the pond. Then upsets an Asian family. We cut the pond short and head to the park. We run down to the lake, we know L is somewhere ahead but we don’t see her. Doggo is rubbish, lagging behind, sniffing this, peeing on that. Two girls are running round the lake, for once he’s in front, running between them. They think it’s hilarious. Once we’ve passed them he’s back to lagging behind again. He's everywhere, except where he should be, with me.
We add in the V to Derby road, to make up for cutting the pond short. Then Doggo veers off towards a little white dog but never gets there. Something is very interesting by a tree. In the end I have to fetch him. He is lunching on a discarded kebab. I pull him away, he is not happy. He takes it out on a couple of rough collies. Then he’s dragging his paws again. We are not speaking.

Get home. L is already there and turbo training. Bricking again.

Ocado deliver. I do paneer curry. England are comprehensively dumped out of the World Cup by South Africa.

Birmingham surprisingly win at Leicester. Think it's time to dust off the blindfold ready for the play offs. Suppose a day out at the new Wembley would be nice. Although I'm not optimistic. The way I see it is if we’re good enough to win through the play offs then we’re good enough to win two of the next three games, which should be enough for second place.

Leicester are in a real mess now, I can’t decide what would be more amusing, Leeds or Leicester going down.