We went on a leisurely Sunday afternoon walk. We like to do that. I threw a chicken in the oven (that I had stuffed after gagging, I hate touching raw chicken, and stuffing them for that matter - enter the squeams!) and then we walked. The Doctor had a minor meltdown as he couldn't find his helmet, and in our house no helmet equals no racers. So he had to walk.
This may have been fortuitous because just down the road was a pile of rubbish. And you know what that means in our language. Good times. The Doctor and I rummaged 'til our hearts were content. Matt, of course, stood back. Because he's too cool to be seen going through other people's junk. Me? No way Jose. I'm in there. I'll show you tomorrow what I found - not today because today I am too lazy to take a photo. But the Doctor triumphed over his helmet downfall. He scored this old school skateboard (here he is rad dawging), check out the handle that helps him steer the deck, and gain a little confidence, le old school way.
The thing I particularly loved about our work, besides the rubbish of course, was a couple of ginger cats coming out to say hi to the smalls. We've met one of these cats on a previous walk before. But yesterday, not only did ol' Ginger run out, his mate did too. The smalls were in cattie heaven.