Undercooked Goose

Came on the bus today. Took a gamble and caught a later bus, banking on the traffic not being so bad now that's it's nearly Xmas. When I try and plug myself into my Ipod I realise that the screen is broken. Disaster. Think I broke it when I had too much jammed into my pack on the bike yesterday and it was among all my other stuff. A new screen is going to cost me £49 about half the price of a new Ipod.

Glad I left home before Daughter got up. When I called up to her as I left, she didn’t sound at her best after her late night on the town.

Very foggy. L says she struggled to keep her eye on the dog this morning, despite the fact that he is equipped with a flashing light on his back. She could have lost him, which is something she says she's been trying to do for some considerable time. Could probably do with some more lights on him.

On the way home the 5.35 bus is busy because as usual it arrives before the 5.20 which is always late. So I don't get a seat to myself. A girl sits next to me plugged into her music, it's the Killers, yes it's that loud I can hear every note. Well at least she's got taste. After about ten attempts selecting music on my Ipod, because my damaged screen makes it difficult to read the menus, I settle on Forward Russia to drown her out. The girl, well she's early thirties, is now busy texting. I nosily steal a glance or two at her screen. I'm sure at one point she's texts 'b home in 20 on knees in 25'. Sounds like someone's in for a bit of a 'welcome home'.

We are going to the theatre tonight, a nice romantic play called the 'Golden Goose'. Yes it's a Christmas 'special' put on by Daughter's Guides group at the local church hall. I drop her off there for final rehearsal then take Doggo for a wander round the pond, then I shove him in the car and meet L at Guides.

The play, as expected, is shockingly awful. Apathetic and mostly inaudible acting by most of the all female cast. It makes you wonder why they've bothered. Glenda the Goose is good though, as are a few others, Daughter included. She at least puts feeling into the two lines she gets to deliver; perhaps all the drama classes etc have taught her something after all. We get cake (very small) and coffee (very anaemic) included for our £1 entry fee. We smuggle a slice of Xmas cake out for Doggo, no icing obviously.

Afterwards we do a Xmas food shop at Sainsbury's and bring home one of their curry meals for four, only £10.99. It is actually very good, although very microwave intensive, we are 'binging' away for ages. The meal easily feeds four of us with the addition of only Naan bread. Although Son only picks out the best bits of his curry, not that he doesn't like it or isn't hungry, it's just that his computer game is waiting and eating is not a good use of his time.

Running In the Rain

We wake up and indulge in more surreptitious misdemeanours, again trying not to disturb Daughter, who will not now be plugged into my ipod as she has finished off the battery. The rain is pounding against the window and the skylights, which adds to the romance of it. Oh to be in the tent in weather as good as this. Again L does a good job of staying silent and this time it's my turn to be on top doing the romantic cuddling.

We had planned to do a run, so run we do, despite the torrential rain. Well L, Doggo and I do. We do maybe 2.5 miles, less than we intended but it is chucking it down. We get several 'you must be stark raving mad' looks from the occupants of the many Chelsea tractors that pass us. We get back and after a hot shower, breakfast is again provided for us.

We have a lazy day, only really going out to the local shop, where L manages to find something that no shop in Nottingham has so far been able to provide, a lemon squeezer.

Later we drive home and listen to the Sport Personality farce on the radio. For some reason Radio 5 think it would be interesting to commentate on the show rather than just relay a sound only version by radio. They could not have been more wrong. Although apparently the TV version is awful too, the BBC again having cut back on the sports content of the programme. Nicole Cooke who L and I both vote for is interviewed by someone who knows nothing about cycling and unless I missed it no footage of her achievements are shown. Despite this she is in the final 5 but fails to make the top 3. To be fair coverage of the other contenders appears to be equally poor.

We fetch a take away curry for all of us, Doggo included, he does love a kit of Keema Naan. My Jalfrezi is good and hot; Son has the same but picks the chilli out of his, the wimp. L's Balti is good too.

We then take a couple of glasses of red wine to bed and I persuade L to let me do a bit of pruning of the Brazilian. It was getting to be a case of being unable to see the wood for the trees. Once done, I even get chance to take it for a quick spin.

34 units for the week. Not good but not bad for a weekend away.