Striding out

Pished it down all morning as I alternated between hastily backing files up from my faltering laptop and fishing bits of gaffa tape out of the pugs throat.

By the time the kids came home and Mrs S returned from the hairdresser and supermarket sweep the sun had emerged so we strode out across the fields with the mutts.

No Friday beverages as I'm picking Ruby up later from her pals. Which is a shame as eighteen bottles of ale just arrived in a big box.