A home for two old boys!

We wake just before eight to a bright but windy day, Norman trots into the garden whilst I prepare his breakfast. When he comes back he refuses to eat until I have given him a pat, I think we are starting to bond. I make a full English breakfast and save Normy a sausage, which I cut into tiny chunks and spread across the plate, to make it seem more. I take my coffee into the Garden Room and listen to the news, but when I try to read the Independant, I find my broadband is down again and restarting the router fails to bring it back to life, so I wash and dress and leave the house a little after a quarter past nine. After collecting the other dogs we drive to the Westwood, today is Ladies Day at the racecourse on York Road and the road is closed except to race traffic. So we take the road down to Walkington Manor and then turn left onto the Newbald Road, which runs down the middle of the common. On our way round our usual route, we see Elaine and Milo by Black Mill and she waits for us and then walks with us back to the car. She is still feeling low and tells me she sold the caravan last week, that she and her husband had so many holidays in. She has lots of friends and has a holiday to Spain booked and another in Robin Hoods Bay with her mother, so eventually the pain of losing her husband to cancer will fade. We get back to Cherry around a quarter to eleven and I spend an hour weeding the flower beds at the front of the house, before taking Norman home and collecting my swimming gear. I am slightly later today and arrive in the pool for a quarter to one. It is busy again, but largely because half the pool is taken up with aqua aerobics. About two dozen larger, older, women bouncing up and down to music have approximately the same effect as a wave machine. There is a double lane where people are swimming laps in a clockwise rotation and I join this and push off and warm up with an easy 400m freestyle. Although the lane is busy the centre is left free for overtaking and so it is perfectly manageable. My stroke holds good at thirteen strokes per length, breathing to either side every three strokes. I follow this with a 400m breaststroke, again done at a steady rhythmic pace concentrating on the glide after the second pulse of the stroke. After ten lengths the aerobics class finishes and I switch to a free lane on the other side of the rope to complete the last six lengths of breaststroke. The pool is warm and the air humid, but I have a litre bottle of water with me and drink between repetitions, I usually drink a litre of water per hours exercise, as the water temperature is only six degrees below blood heat. After breaststroke I swim 400m backstroke, the easiest of the four strokes because the face is in the air most of the time, but the stroke that requires almost perfect balance to swim properly. I find the trick is to lie back on my shoulders, so that my head is almost underwater, this allows my hips and legs to float high, minimising drag. I follow this with 4 x 100m individual medley and then warm down with a few lengths backstroke, before the pool is cleared to prepare for the children's inflatables. Today was a little easier than yesterday, and by next week, if all goes well, I should be strong enough to increase the butterfly element back to parity with the other strokes. After showering and changing, I adjourn to the cafe for a pot of tea and some oaties. One of the girls who works in the kitchen is having her lunch and I share an oatie with her, she is a little overweight and asks for the recipe when I tell her there is no sugar in them. The recipe couldn't be simpler, porridge oats made a little finer in my food processor, sweetener, olive oil margarine and a little soya milk. Rolled out, cut with a biscuit cutter and baked for 30 minutes at 180 degrees. I drive home and call at the village shop for some red wine to accompany the whole wheat spaghetti Bolognese I intend to make when I get in. I have been brewing the sauce in the slow cooker since last night. After boiling a pan of water I add the pasta, which takes 10-11 minutes like ordinary spaghetti. I time it on my iPhone and when it is done drain it in a colander and then toss it with butter and black pepper before adding the sauce and Parmesan. I am quite hungry after my swim and so is Norman, so I disguise some dog meat with Bolognese sauce and we both eat together. Surprisingly I have never eaten whole wheat spaghetti before, and it is OK, I could even imagine myself preferring it after a while. The broadband is still down as I take a quarter glass of wine into the Garden Room and find, that the rain that was forecast, is coming down hard. The garden is in need of it but it is unfortunate for all those girls in their high heels and summer frocks and hats at Ladies Day. Still there are marquees on the racecourse for people to shelter in. There is something so restful in listening to the rain fall and soon my dog and I feel sleepy, so I put a blanket over my duvet, and we nod off for an hour or so. It is still raining when we awaken, and as I am down to my last three oaties, I mix up and bake a new batch. I give Norman his dinner, and then, when the rain stops, take him down the lane for his evening walk. When we get back I read my book until half past ten and then write this, before retiring at eleven thirty. It has been another good day, my health continues to improve, the gardens are in a manageable condition and old Norman seems happy in his new retirement home. I don't know how long the old guy will last but I will try to make his last few months or years as happy as possible.