chocolate-muffin-500x500 Phew what a scorcher!  A truly beautiful Bank Holiday weekend here, Readers, with sunshine and warmth galore. This was the ideal time, of course, to spend bldy hours in the bldykitchen baking bldycakes, but I benefited from this as there was shortbread mixture all down the front of the washing machine and icing sugar all over the floor.  This afternoon, peanut butter cookies were attempted for the first time, and what they lacked in correct texture (aren’t cookies meant to have a nod towards crispness somewhere?) they made up for in taste.  I fought my way into the dishwasher as it was being loaded, and licked the beaters.

Tonight I went for a lovely walk down at the river after tea, once it began to cool down.  There were lots of people out on this balmy Bank Holiday evening, and the atmosphere was simply charming.  That was until we spotted the many groups of teenagers, sitting around in large clumps of adolescence.  One group in particular seemed very relaxed and jolly, which was not entirely unaided by the odd illegal substance judging by the pungent smell wafting across the meadow towards me.  Readers, I’m sure my pupils dilated a little as we walked past.  But they were doing no harm, just laughing and messing around in the sunshine; one expected them to produce a guitar at any minute.  It was all a bit Ed Sheeran for my taste, to be honest, so we trotted on quickly.  Further on was another group of teenagers having a barbecue – hurrah for the cheap disposable kind that can be taken down to the river of an evening, on which to cook sausages.  Needless to say I was kept on the lead so that I couldn’t join the banquet.

To be honest, I’m a bit fed up with this attitude.  Today there was a Big Day at the cricket club, and I was so looking forward to going.  But no.  I was made to stay at home, as there was to be a Hog Roast and I would be “a right pain in the backside.”  That’s the Bank Holiday spirit.  Readers, I would have loved to see the hog roast, never having experienced one of these, and you and I know quite well that I would have stood quietly and patiently, watching.  The assumption that I would be diving under the wooden benches and snatching food from young children, is insulting. So I was left at home with Lad, whilst Young Lad went off to play cricket and eat Hog Roast, and She just sat talking non-stop to people.  I’m glad someone enjoyed their Bank Holiday Monday, anyway.  He had gone to work at silly o’clock this morning, but even He managed to get down to the cricket club for some hog roast and a beer.  But no, not Lad or I.

I thought things might be improving when they decided to do another barbecue in the garden for tea, and convinced myself that at long last a sausage would be coming my way, but yet again I was let down. I had to be content with licking the metal tray on yesterday’s disposable barbecue which nobody had bothered to put in the dustbin.  There was a tiny dribble of congealed sausage fat on it, and that was my lot.  Do you feel this is unacceptable?  I do.  I know what the problem is.  I was in a lot of trouble last night, for inventing my own new house rule. I have decided, Friends, that if anyone has a piece of food near them and haven’t eaten it within four minutes, by default it becomes mine.  This is what happened when Lad was given a Belgian Chocolate muffin to help him revise yesterday.  He put the plate on the arm of his chair, and was Deep In Thought for a few minutes.  I felt this was a few minutes too long, so leapt up and grabbed the muffin, running under the table and stuffing it down (paper and all) in three gulps.  Lad was furious.  He shouted at me and told me to get in my bed, so I growled and told him where to go.  Then She came in and shouted, ” you NAUGHTY boy”,  at me, and propelled me towards my bed with her foot behind me. Honestly, the fuss.  So I imagine that’s why I’ve been so treated so poorly today.

Thankfully there are nicer people in the world.  Coming back from the river last night, I had one of my moments where I refused to carry on walking.  She finds this annoying, as it wrenches her arm nearly out of its socket when I suddenly stop, put my head down and refuse to move.  I did this right next to a nice family, who thought it was very funny and that I was very sweet.  So I sat with them for ages, eventually rolling on my back while they tickled my tummy.  That’s how desperate for love I am.  It didn’t end there – as we walked up the road, the whole of dear, dear Ebony’ extended family were out on the driveway (hundreds of them!) and they all made SUCH a fuss of me.  In fact, I tried to go into their house as I wasn’t keen on going home, and I’m sure you can sympathise.  I wasn’t allowed to, of course, and was dragged home.

You’ll all be glad to know that my slightly split toenail is improving slowly.  The nail varnish has not helped at all, and was quite unnecessary. 

Lad has been working fairly hard this weekend, and I’ve been pleased to see him in the garden with his pile of books, soaking up the sunshine.  I try to keep him company by lying in the sunshine with him, and every so often he leans down and strokes my side.  Such is our lovely relationship.  Lad is less happy at this moment, however, as he is on the Xbox and a lot of angry shouting about the “crap wifi in our house” and “what is WRONG with THIS THING?” is going on, punctuated by the occasional hitting of some furniture.  Poor Lad.  Young Lad has been ridiculously energetic, not only playing cricket (though he is wicket keeper, which involves standing still a lot), but also a lot of football in the garden.  This has been lovely for the neighbour over the back, who has had to throw the ball back four thousand times in the last three days.   Tomorrow Young Lad has a football match after school, and, he has just announced, a Music Test.  This is a shame, as he forgot to mention this at any other time in the last three days, and he has only revised Maths, History and Geography.  Oh dear.

Well, Readers, I’m off to dear Ebony’s house for the day tomorrow, where I might get the odd piece of sausage, and dear Pippa’s house the day after.  When I go outside for my comfort break at bedtime tonight, I sincerely hope the hedgehog from last night isn’t there again.  That’s another disadvantage of summer evenings – Youths being uncouth by the river, and flea-ridden Vermin thinking they can wander through your back garden willy-nilly. Humph.

Bye for now,




Author: boredbeagle

Slightly stocky beagle who lives with a family. This is She, He, Lad and Young Lad. And Gingercat. Generally doesn't get enough attention and so writes this blog to let everyone know what his life is like. You need to start from page one (First Attempt).. Go on, it's worth the effort.

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