Hi remember us, tyre people?

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Like Groundhog Day, we found ourselves back at the tyre place Day 4 of half term (day 3 being a write off). We learnt our lesson and arrived about 9.30 - surely that can't be lunchtime? I enquired after our bad luck with tyres and the experts confirmed it was nothing but bad luck- no-one to blame- that's a pity. Looks like I should just chuck in my lot with the car saint (who really needs a name...)

Knowing we'd have to wait, in a soon to be discovered masochistic move, we decided to go for a run followed by a cool off in the pool. It near killed me - three times round Roche Caiman (6km) and a half km pootle (it wasn't really swimming). What's wrong with me? What happened to big comfy sofa, white wine and Buffy? Instead of watching the hell mouth for entertainment, I appear to have created my own - that it involves running is apt, that it has no brooding hot vampires is very definitely my bad.

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