Successfully rescued Chewie’s balls1 without getting stung, bitten, or scratched. Had to dress like an Eskimo, in peak British summer, for 10 mins though.
Team Moi & Chewie 1 – 2 Team Bees & Nettles
Now, if only we could rescue the 3rd ball lost under the garden shed, it’ll even the score.
Yesterday, Chewie and I rescued a cow.
While walking on the mount, we noticed the cows were congregated around one of the bottom gates, and there were a couple of ladies on the other side of the gates. Initial suspicion was that the ladies wanted to get on the mount, but the cows were blocking them. Soon, it became clear – as the walkers had exited the mount, one of the greedy cows had followed them through the first trap gate to get to the vegetation in the middle. As the gate closed behind her, the cow got trapped between the twin gates – meadow on one side, the heavy traffic of A31 on the other.
On realising its predicament, the cow started getting agitated – not letting the walkers back in to release the inner gate. Other cows too congregated around the gate out of concern.
Once the situation was clear, I put Chewie on lead, and we calmly walked down to the gate. As the other cows saw us approach, they quietly dispersed, leaving the gate access free. I stood on far side of the gate, Chewie calmly stood next to me, and opened the gate. The trapped cow, quickly scampered through – to the meadow, to other cows, to freedom!
The ladies thanked us, the cows gave us a grateful smile (I’d like to believe), and we walked back up the mount. Halfway up, I released Chewie off lead. He found the ball that he’d dropped earlier, and we merrily carried on home, happy1,2.
Snapped at boy after he went barking due to some neighbourhood activity at crazy o’clock. He got the message and came licked me clean, hugged and slept off.
I didn’t (couldn’t). Carried the day on 2 hours of sleep.
Spent more time driving around Guildford to drop off the boy at his day care, than the train took to get from Guildford to London.
Knocked up Brompton, heavy legs after last evening’s run intervals, and wicked wind didn’t help with ride to old street.
Attended 3 really good sessions with Campus Edu.
Met 2 new prospects at Campus London.
Sister got a job after an year relaxing at home.
Giro started.
Marianne Vos won the stage and overall lead at Women’s Tour.
Partner was delighted to discover that her pension is managed by Friends Life, sponsors of the Women’s Tour.
Sister’s job is in London. I’ll get to meet her more frequently. Theoretically. Hopefully.
About to eat pulled pork nachos.
Knackered. Happy. Excited.
It wasn’t just another day.
Pleading with Chewie not to thank me after every meal by licking my face, and leaving it smelling like his dry food.
Me: What if a super hot model walks in the door, and wants to lick my face? What’ll she think if it smells of your food?
Partner (translating Chewie’s squirms): Why would you want a super model who doesn’t like the smell of a dog?
Me: No, she loves dogs, and will think I’m eating his food! He’s thin enough to convince anyone he’s starving, and my face smells of his food!
Partner, whom I constantly harass to let me increase Chewie’s food: *Bugger off both of you*
I’ll record this as a win.
Pro Tip: When playing football or handball with your dog, never go for a 50-50 ball. You’ll get hurt, and he’ll win the ball.
Every fucking time.
… before I’m back in the hills!
In these 10 days,
And yet, the only thing that gets my heart racing, is the thought of the hills awaiting me at end of those 10 days.
I love hills :)
Monday:
Good ride.
2 hours of productive work.
4 hours of corralling myself into doing work I wasn’t ready for. Nothing got done.
3 hours of productive work.
Good ride.
An hour’s good walk with Chewie.
Tuesday:
Good ride.
4 hours of productive work.
1 hour of doodling. Sort of.
2 hours of productive work.
2 hours of discussion around project work and more.
Good ride.
37 lengths of swim.
Bad cramp.
Rest.
3 lengths of swim.
Cramp still there.
Tomorrow:
Weigh in.
Train + Bus.
Attacking that work thing I’ve been failing at. One. More. Time.
Drinks.
Bus + Train.
Plan: To play with the dog all morning, so as to tire him before I leave, thus making sure he’ll sleep most of the day.
Reality: Boy wakes up in a lovey mood, curls up on my lap, licks my face, and then rests with his head on my chest.
*I’m not moving!*
Been a while since we had this chat. He’s trained us well!