A new volunteering experience at the weekend. Sunday saw the resumption of the Barry Island 10K run, and I was a volunteer at the bag drop. I chose that rather than the water station only to find that the water station was in Romilly Park. I could have wandered down at the last minute rather than having to be on the Island by 8am. 

The bag drop was good fun and well organised if a little short staffed. Each bay should have had two people but no shows meant one per bay. My race numbers went from 3000-3500. These were not the elite runners and not the total slow coaches. My bay ended up with about 100 bags in it. We had 30 minutes to watch the start of the race and get our bays in proper order number order before we were back in operation with the first of the elite runners getting back. 

 It was good fun and I'm down to work with the same supervisors in October for the Cardiff Half Marathon.

First Post in a while

I last posted just over 17 months ago, which was four days before Mum died. When that happened I suddenly has a lot of things to do, and lots of decisions to make. The need to blog disappeared whilst I got myself sorted. Lots of things have changed. The major change has been my moving permanently back to Barry. I realised that the house down here was nicer as was the location. I didn't realise how much I had missed the sea. Wilmslow was never really home. I always said I was going home any time I described a trip to Barry. When I got an offer out of the blue from the son of a neighbour it seemed Karma was telling me to take the money and stay in South Wales. 

So far it has been totally the right decision. I am doing some new volunteering and continuing with some old ones. And there is a new man in my life. Marmite.

I got him from Cats Protection down in Bridgend. He's a now nine year old black cat, who is no longer on the strict diet I had to continue when I collected him as he has gone from 6.8kg to 5.5kg. He's supposed to get down to 5kg but we're both happy with the weight he is. His previous owner was an expat in Spain who had to come home through ill health. He was flown back to the UK (he's got a passport and everything) but couldn't stay with them so was given to Cats Protection. Apparently black cats are always the last to be selected. It seems to be because they're not cute or pretty, but I think he's gorgeous. The local mouse and bird population are not so happy with him, and on one occasion he brought home a frog, but he's a bit of a wuss when it comes to other cats. I have bought a big water gun and have been well trained to come and rescue him when he gives his "Help Mum" cry in the garden.

He loves the garden (when it's not raining), has claimed the chair in the front room as his own, but will sit on my lap provided I have the blanket on my legs. That means he hasn't sat with me for most of the summer as it made both of us too hot. He may be of Spanish origin but he doesn't like it when it's really warm. Wearing a black fur coat isn't great when the temperatures are rising. 

He really loves the soft blanket and I find he's dragged it from the living room into the hall when I get up most mornings. Let's just say he's had the snip but he's still a randy little bugger.