Whiskey never fails to be astounded by the silliness of his humans.
The unseasonably chilly May weather has seen me in retreat from most things outward-facing, including blipping. It's been hard to find much to post or write about when each day follows pretty much the same pattern. I found it hard to believe today, when I checked, that it's been over two weeks. It's ever more frightening how quickly the days slip by. I guess it's down to having a very narrow focus at the moment, and perhaps knowing that it's not going to be so easy to maintain that focus now things are opening up. For a natural-born hermit, coming out of lockdown isn't going to be so easy.
Following a disappointing day on the cricket field yesterday, for both boys, we enjoyed a day out to celebrate the first weekend of warm summer weather. It was a perfect day, crystal clear - once the morning mist burnt off - but not oppressive. Forrest and I ran from Kettlewell to Horton-in-Ribblesdale following a beautiful mixture of fell and dale, a few miles of which I'd not traversed before. We met up with the family at Horton and after a refuel, walked up Penyghent together. Whiskey loved the climb, the mud monster grabbing every available opportunity to bury himself in boggy ditches to keep cool, doing a passable impersonation of a black labrador in the process!
Forrest and I were ferried back to our car, driving over the tops and revisiting the route we ran at Litton, where we stopped for a drink at the pub, enjoying the return of one of life's simplest and greatest pleasures. We'd clocked up over 20 miles and reckoned we deserved our beer. It was a truly grand day out.