Wednesday, 9 January 2013

Groucho Marx

This morning the door bell rang at exactly THE WORST moment. I was towel clad, and was colouring my own eyebrows. There was enough goo on them to make me look like Groucho Marx. There was NO WAY the door was going to be answered, but I did poke half my face out of the window and asked politely if I needed to come down stairs or could he leave his bits of paper in the letter box.....which he did. Phew!

Once restorted to my usual self, Juno and I paid a visit to the vet to be weighed, (just her thank heavens), she is now 3.6kg. We went for a walk after that. She loves her walks, but hates, hates, hates having her lead put on and or her collar touched. She bites very hard. This is something for the puppy class ladies to help us with. We have been doing lots of the training from last night's session and she is tired tonight.

The charity shop got a huge pile of things today as well. I did say it was time to get off my butt and the result was four bags of unwanted items.....

My gym buddy and I had our first lunch time session today and despite the whinging about being there, we had not caught up with each other since before Christmas so we managed to talk and work out for an hour. Boy do bits hurt now. An older gym member said he thought we were going at '45 chats a minute' when we were on the bikes. Very sweet.

1 comment:

crunchnrustle said...

The image of '45 chats a minute' gave me a chuckle or two!