Lots of rain and a bad Hobbit

Wake in the night to the sound of rain lashing against the windows, and it is still raining when we get up, around a quarter to eight when I let Norman into the garden. My intestines seem to be working again, so we resume normal service and make a full English breakfast, which Normy greatly prefers to dry dog food. Well who wouldn't! The Guardian has failed to download again, more a problem with the BT broadband than with the publisher and the Everything Everything network, formerly known as Orange, has Nothing Nowhere again, I haven't had a signal in the village for almost twenty four hours. After breakfast, I fry some onions in the skillet and then some pork and beef mince in order to make a Bolognaise sauce, with the addition of garlic, chopped tomatoes, oregano, Oxo and Maggi seasoning. The whole lot is transferred to the slow cooker and left to do it's magic. Afterwards I change the beds and put the dirty sheets in to wash, along with this week's whites. There is no chance of getting them dry today, but a better day is forecast for tomorrow. Around half past ten, after a shower, I brave the elements and take Norman for a walk round the village, the lashing rain and the cold have a marvellous effect on the old boy's bowels and bladder, and so within a hundred yards, he has done his duty and wants to head home. Who could blame him in this sodden deluge? So we turn tail and return indoors to the warmth and comfort of our bungalow, a quick towelling restores him to his usual good humour and he is still wagging his tail when I set off for the Leisure Centre. The foul weather means the pool is sparsely populated when I arrive, shortly before eleven thirty. I vary my program slightly today, reintroducing 400m butterfly, along with the other three strokes, but split up into eight fifty metre repeats, and finishing off with 4 x 100m individual medley. Still a 2,000m swim but split equally between each of the four strokes. Afterwards, I drink tea in the cafe and eat a few oaties, before my phone finally gets a signal and I realise there are two voicemail messages from Felicity, enquiring about my health. I ring her back and tell her I am recovered and then ask if she needs anything bringing from Morrison's, where I am headed next. She asks for some cooked chicken thighs and after buying coffee and more dog food for Norman, as well as a chunk of Pecorino Romana, to grate over the pasta, we drive to Albert Terrace. Felicity makes tea and we chat for a while, before Sam, her Border Collie, is returned from his walk by an autistic teenager, who is soaked to the skin. Felicity has a number of dog walkers and refuses to pay this youngster, less than she does her able bodied helpers, despite being told that he would do it for half the price. One of the many things I admire in the old girl, is her generosity and her principle. Why should he get paid less, just because he is autistic? She gave him a chance, and he never lets her down and both emerge with affection and honour. Hannah arrives shortly afterwards, she has just had her eyes tested at the surgery, and they have put drops in to enlarge the pupils, so she can't see too clearly, but her brain is working as well as always. I leave around three and drive back to Tickton, where I boil a pan of water to make spaghetti and then serve it with Bolognese sauce and grated Pecorino. Norman loves spaghetti, as has every dog I have ever had, they have all probably seen "Lady and the Tramp", where the lovers eat spaghetti to the refrain of " Bella Notte", which I now croon for Normy. Eccentric, Moi! The bad news for Norman, is that he now has to walk round the village, as the distance between input and output on an elderly miniature Dachshund, is only about six inches. A very short flash to bang time. We make it all the way this time, but as its tea time and still pouring with rain, I don't let him off the lead until we are back in our cul de sac. Another towelling and he is ready to go back in his basket, whilst I take Alice to see "The Hobbit", at our local multiplex. I pick her up at six and then have to drive back to Tickton to collect my 3D glasses, which I had forgotten. We arrive at the cinema on time, but it is full price tonight, £7:60 each and another £2:60 for a bottle of water. For some reason Cineworld always has the sound levels turned right up for the adverts and trailers, it must breach some health and safety legislation, as it borders on being downright painful. The feature, when it starts, is average, the narrative sacrificed for computer game like action sequences, which is how a short book has been turned into a trilogy, the first episode of which, lasts almost three hours. It is not all bad, with decent performances from the leading actors, but it's target market is 10-15 year olds, and it seems to have been produced with a view to making as much money out of the inevitable computer game as the film. The real star of the show, as with "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy, is the New Zealand Mountain landscape. Alice seems to have enjoyed it, which is the main point, but there again she is only fifteen. To bed for midnight.