A Chill Wind Under The Tail

-1 degrees this morning and very frosty outside. The cold makes Doggo frisky and he's out in the garden with his football long before 7am. All it takes is a bit of a chill wind under his tail and he's anybody's. It's a shame for him that no one wants to go out there and join him. The cold has a similar effect on me, I'm feeling just a playful, but there's no time.

I try my new route again and soon regret it when I have a very long wait at the railway crossing. The roads are not really icy. There's the odd puddle that looks a bit glassy but I kept well away from them. It is very nippy though and I'm very glad I put two pairs of trousers on. It's my feet that suffer and when I'm thawing out at work, I'm tempted to put my feet in my porridge.

L always wants a dog for Xmas. One year it was a shiatsu, another year a whippet, this year it's Brian. Don't ask. She's addicted to the website of a local rescue centre. Unfortunately it's a non-starter because they won’t let us have a rescue dog because we work. This is a bit of a generalisation because I don't think Doggo minds that we work, in fact I think sometimes he wishes we worked more. He seems to find our lifestyle a bit too much for him. Xmas is going to totally wipe him out because we're off work for almost a whole week.

On my way home I almost run into the blonde on the carbon bike as she emerges from a side road in Risley. Thankfully I didn't, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd scratched the bike.

I get home and take Doggo for a run. We do a loop through Wollaton and then onto the tennis centre to meet L, who's doing pilates and gym there. We get joined by an ownerless lurcher, which just won't go away; despite the fact that Doggo does his best to see it off. The creature is just too stupid to look bothered. Doggo is desperate for me to let him off the lead so that he can have a real go and I do sympathise but I'm sure they'd both end up scrapping in the road. Which is so Nottingham but no.

Eventually we get rid of the lurcher and push on to meet L. She's already told me that she'll be waiting for me, muffin in hand and that she expects me to be chivalrous and to take care of it for her. Talk about an incentive. I wonder if she's being deliberately suggestive?

We are little late, thanks to the lurcher, but not much. The muffin is huge and has been given to her by someone at work but she daren't eat it. Probably in case it compromises her weighing contest at work. Underhand tactics by the opposition I think. Luckily muffin eating is my speciality. If I'm allowed to say that? Although I only have about half of it because I'm out for a pizza tonight.

I am accompanied on my night out by a mate of mine, and a couple of Stella's. At £2.95 per half pint bottle, or an obscene £6 a pint, reassuringly expensive or not. Langtry's is much better. They have Broadside, Otter Ale, and Salem Porter on, among others. Wow. I opt for a couple of porters 4.7%. Very very nice.