Walking, Strops, Cuddling And A Blow Dry

Wake up in the Lakeland cottage. We are staying in a cottage that sleeps 5, in which there are 6 of us plus Doggo. Son sleeps in a sleeping bag on the settee close to the TV and the computer games. This is where he'll stay for the duration of the weekend. Daughter sleeps in a room off our bedroom, which makes acrobatic sex sessions difficult to get away with. This of course doesn't mean we're abstaining for the weekend.

I hope that there is still some power left in my ipod and that Daughter is currently plugged into it. Just in case that is not the situation next door L tries to keep as quiet as possible, burying her head in the pillow whenever necessary.

Having got away with that she get bolder, risking a major bollocking from Daughter if she get's caught without her head on the pillow. In the end it isn't until she is sat astride me that Daughter appears from her room. L casually but unconvincingly, at least to me anyhow, turns the position into a romantic cuddle.

Daughter, looking a tad suspicious, disappears downstairs to the toilet. While she is gone L bursts into action and completes her task quick enough so that by the time Daughter reappears she is once more sat 'innocently' astride cuddling me. I though am perhaps more dazed and panting that one would expect from mere cuddling alone but if Daughter suspected foul play she didn't show it.

After a while L and I go downstairs and shower together. Which creates a stir both from Daughter and from our friends who are by now cooking breakfast. As if we'd do anything in the shower, what do they take us for, in any case I'm far too knackered after the pasting I've just had.

Our friends are doing breakfast so that by 11.00 we can all go out walking. Breakfast is provided in good time but we still don't get out walking until 12.00. We hadn't accounted for the fact that neither of them had been in the shower yet, which takes ages, then there's hair to be blow-dried etc before we go out into the wind and the rain.

L bribes Daughter to join us on the work. The fee that is offered is £3; Daughter wants £10. The bartering is still continuing, as we depart, I'm not sure what the final deal was. I suggest that Daughter should give us a pound back for each time she whinges. Daughter is not keen; she knows that she'll be in deficit by the time we get to the end of the road.

Daughter to her credit sets off at a fair rate of knots, attached to Doggo. This pace won't last long. Sure enough by the half-mile point she's had enough and it's all downhill from there. Her mood that is, the path we're on seems to be mostly uphill, which doesn't go down well. The weather isn't bad, a little drizzle, a few clouds but generally pleasant. The only black clouds are much closer to home.

Our children no longer like walking; not now they are teenagers. Years ago Daughter, and her Brother, completed an outstanding treble of climbing the big three peaks of Ben Nevis, Snowden and Scafell Pike, all before she was older than six but they were both fitter in those days. These days with their sedentary lifestyles they are no longer fit enough to do anything like that.

We manage to do a modest five miles round the valley before Daughter's sugar levels drop that low we're into major strop territory. She storms off, luckily in the right direction and at a ferocious pace. It's a shame she hadn't set this pace earlier, then we could have done twice the distance. We head to another of our favourite pubs for a hot chocolate or two. Unfortunately Daughter, the red mist now obviously blinding her eyes, takes a wrong turn and as we descend via the path to the road, she ends up in a field with a high dry stonewall between her and the road. As she struggles to clamber over the wall we manage to suppress our amusement, just, it's really not worth the rollicking we'd get if caught sniggering. We keep our heads down we head for the pub.

After refuelling on hot choc we have a two-mile gentle meander down the road back to the cottage.

We get back to the cottage just as the football results come in. Derby have won at Elland Road for the first time since 1974. Still the result is disappointing. I was hoping we’d give them a right good drubbing, 1-0 was a bit of an anti-climax, feels almost like a defeat. Although reports said we should have had more goals but missed so many chances and then almost let them snatch a draw towards the end. Seems not many paid their £36, a crowd of 20,000, which contained a full contingent of 3,000 from Derby.

More showers and blow-drying of hair means we're later than we intended leaving for the pub.

We eat at the pub and consume 2 x Thwaites, 1 x Black Sheep, 1 x Scouse Garage ale. Then L and I both take a Leffe Brune home with us to consume in bed with a chunk or two of dark chocolate.