As we have done the last week, we put the TV on early to see how Team GB was doing in the Olympics. By mid afternoon we were third in the medal table as we had our best weekend in nearly 100 years. We were both pleased and proud of Becky Adlington yesterday, winning her second gold medal in the swimming, and were both pleased that Michael Phelps had eclipsed Mark Spinx's record with his 8th gold medal at Beijing.
We, on the other hand, took things a little easier than our Olympians. I ran out to take the recycling up to Ware and picked up Dawn's rail ticket while Dawn did the ironing. Then after lunch Dawn had her weekly video call with Brady while I watched Ghost Whisperer that I had recorded.
And Tiny was in heaven, too. She hasn't been sick since we took her to the vet. That will be four weeks this coming Tuesday. She's also getting back to her old ways, too. She is laying with me on the couch, sleeping with us on the bed, and racing around the house playing, and purring like a powered motor when we come home from work.
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