The Brigadier sent me an invitation to the Rector's leaving party. And a request for a donation to the leaving present. That's OK, I can do that. He has been a very good rector, if a bit fierce at times, and always supportive of the Village. There is already talk about who the next rector will be. I don't really mind, as long as he doesn't make too many changes.
A change is as good as a holiday, they say. I didn't fancy the change at swimming this morning. I arrived at the same time as the England U21 rugby team (read: boys to men). They took over the pool for a while so I observed them from the jacuzzi. Until a sweet looking one joined me. I asked him what I thought was a good question 'Are you playing in a competition or just training?'. Grunt. 'Training.' Silence, then to another 'Oi, mate! Did you get your end off last night?'. At which point I went to the steam room.
Afterwards, in the change room, I asked one of the girls if that was rude. Well, that depends she said. Did he say 'get it off or get it away?'. Apparently, there is a difference.
I was glad to get back to the safety of the Village, and the unconditional love of the Boxer boys, lovely snuffly, wriggly boys, now sleeping peacefully. Only two things matter to them - cuddles and walks. They aren't even too bothered about food. They are not greedy boys at all. Sometimes the little big dog has to be encouraged to eat. He plays so hard that he gets too tired to eat. It's a dog's life. Play hard, sleep well.
