Move it...

Another step towards normality yesterday as I took Percy and Reg back to the woods for a walk on my own.  There were a couple of close shaves with an elderly Jack Russell and a rather rotund male runner who was taking a breather on the path.  With his back to us, and his derriere facing north, it was too tempting for Percy who managed to make him jump with a wet nose.  

That will teach the runner to remove his earphones when he makes an emergency stop.

But I was ok, and the dogs were ok, so it was a small victory.

The husband and I decided that a day indoors was on the cards yesterday.  He had announced in the morning that he was going to clean his motorbike and the Wobble Box and also mow the lawn.  For the first time in our marriage, I told him that he was doing nothing of the sort, and that he had to have a day of rest with his ankle in the air.  And do you know what?  For the first time in our marriage, he actually did as he was told, sitting quietly at his desk and catching up with his paperwork. 

Sitting quietly is not something I'm particularly good at, so having walked the dogs, I dug up my remaining beetroots and cooked them, and then tidied out my office, finally falling onto the sofa at 3.00 on Sunday afternoon.

Now ladies, I have to rewind a little at this point.

As you all know, it was my birthday last week, and the four children had clubbed together to buy me a fancy fitbit watch to monitor steps, heart rate etc etc.  I have had three of the smaller pedometers, all of which have been lost, hence the gift of one which has a watch strap.  Yesterday was its first outing, and I was thrilled as I watched the steps adding up to to the illusive 10,000.  So having walked, worked, dug, tidied and cleared up, sitting down with Saturday's Strictly was very welcome.

I'd been there for an hour when all of a sudden the watch emitted a rather intrusive sound. Expecting to see a 'congratulations' for steps achieved, you can only start to imagine my horror when I realised that the blasted thing was having a go at me for 'not moving for an hour'...

I can't tell you what I said to the fitbit, nor the husband's hilarious retort from his desk, but the first thing I did was to go to my setting and disable suggestions as to what I should or shouldn't be doing.

I have a husband for that...


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