Looking back on the weekend just gone, Saturday is easier to place. I skipped training Saturday morning; I pulled something painful in my calf muscle whilst sparring in Cinderford on Thursday evening, so figured, given that I was having trouble just getting up and down the stairs at home as a result, I ought to give the injury a little time to rest.
Had lunch in town with Nikki, bought some strings and a couple of microphone cables, took Nik home, and with my two lads, Ben and Sam, headed back into town on the bus to meet up with my future son-in-law Dan for his stag night.
At least that's what we used to called it. As it started at 2pm in the afternoon it wasn't just a night but most of the whole damned day. I'm certain we were far more temperate when I was young. However, starting in Gloucester, a series of busses and pubs saw us end up somewhere in Cheltenham by the evening. Not entirely sure where. At some point Ben had decided his little brother Sam had had enough to drink, so we made our good night's, abandoned proceedings, and caught the bus home.
I think it was one of Ben's more sensible decisions.
Sunday, shockingly perhaps, I awoke fresh enough and early enough to keep a previous promise to meet up with a friend at my old sailing club in Frampton-on-Severn and spent the day crewing for him as we raced his Enterprise. A blustery, shifty westerly with gusts hitting the low 20's made for some challenging racing and some entertaining moments, but despite the occasional close call we kept the boat upright.
Which was as well, as it was shorts and tee-shirt sailing weather, which is so much better enjoyed if you can stay dry. Over three races across the day, we took fourth place overall. It was a good day, and great to catch up with some old friends.
On the home front, Lottie remains gorgeous and irrepressible; she has become inseparable from Jack, who exhibits a saintly volume of patience in dealing gently with her puppy play as the weaves about his legs, nipping his ankles, pulling at his shoulders and hanging off his neck; her head is still small enough to fit in his mouth, and it often does.
These spates of frenetic energy and play are interspaced with long dozes though-out the day and night. She's due her second vaccination next Tuesday, and then a week after that she's finally allowed out the house, so we can start to walk some of that mad energy off.
If Jack has become inseparable from this fluffy little usurper of affection and attention, Boo has made every effort to separate himself entirely. She's presently too much for the poor lad, so he spends the time when he's not out in the garden, walking with Sam or snoozing in the hall by the front door, hiding from her in our bedroom.
Which is fine, for the moment, as she's too small to climb the stairs. Give it another week or two, however.