Straight and thick

CHP140-Chunky-Chips-5-1280x1143An oven chip fell on the floor out of the packet tonight, Readers, as they were about to be put in the oven.  It was extra chunky and extra long,  and it was also frozen solid.  This was no obstacle to me, so I snatched it and ran down the garden with it – admittedly, it took a little pressure from my sharp incisors to get through the solid frozen potato, but before you could say McCain, I had eaten it.  It was nice.  Probably they’re even nicer once cooked, but beggars can’t be choosers.  Then, as if this wasn’t enough excitement over dinner preparation ,  I returned to the kitchen in time for the Halloumi to fall out of the fridge again, and as you know, Halloumi bounces, so I grabbed a chunk of that and ran off to the garden once more.  Frustratingly, it was low-fat Halloumi as part of a ridiculous and futile healthy eating regime, so nowhere near as nice as the full-on Halloumi. but never mind.  That was quite a result within five minutes – a chip and some cheese.

To be honest, the day started incredibly well on the food front.  Everyone was exhausted  after Lad’s very early starts to get to London this week, and wanted a lie-in.  I needed a comfort break at 6am, which coincided with Gingercat yowling to come in, so He got up to let me out.  He also gave me my breakfast.  We all went back to bed for another kip, then She got up two hours later and I went downstairs with her.  Now, usually whoever gives me breakfast in the mornings uses a special code to make this fact clear.  They leave my box of food by the kettle, as a big clue.  However, this morning He failed to do this, and put it back on top of the fridge.  Thus She thought I hadn’t been fed and I wasn’t about to argue with her, so I was given a second breakfast.  Marvellous!  Then I started asking for my 4pm dinner at 1.30pm.  This was pushing my bldyluck apparently, and I had to wait it out until they caved in at 3.15pm.

It has been very hot here again, Friends.  Young Lad asked if we could get the Slip N Slide out of the shed – in effect, this is a long piece of plastic that you peg into the ground, nice and taut, and throw washing up liquid and water all over.  It appears that it is great fun sliding up and down this in one’s swim shorts, having the hose aimed at you.  To me, it seems childish and slightly dangerous, as She had no patience whatsoever with banging the bldy metal pegs into the bldy rock hard ground, and gave up, so there were two large pieces of metal right where Young Lad was throwing himself up and down.  Readers, it could have taken his eye out, but no consideration was given to this.  I feel this is shoddy parenting again, and with just a little more resilience to hammering the ruddy pegs into the lawn properly, this danger could have been avoided.  The mood wasn’t great as the Slip and Slide was right at the back of the shed, underneath three bikes, the leaf-blower (never used) and a nest of tarantulas.  It had not been easy getting it out in the first place, and nobody had offered to help, largely because of the nest of tarantulas.  I’m sure all over the country today, in back gardens everywhere, there were happy children and laughing mothers playing good-naturedly in the sunshine.   It’s such a shame that it never happens here, and that Young Lad had to amuse himself on the Slip and Slide while a cup of Earl Grey was drunk in bad temper.  Poor Young Lad.  She did put the hose on him in the end, out of guilt, but not for long because of the imminent hosepipe ban.

Lad slept through all of this, as he was plain worn out from a week of commuting to London in the rush hour and heat.  I thought Lad showed remarkable staying power in managing to  shout on the Xbox until very late last night, but then poor Lad hasn’t been on it all week and needed to let off steam.  Lad was taken a cup of tea in bed at 1pm , which was a good job as he wanted to get up to watch the football match at 3pm and very nearly over-slept.

I wasn’t taken for a walk during the day, Readers, as it was just too hot.  I was quite content to lie in the garden and occasionally wander under the bird table to see if anything had dropped.  I’ve just been out for my walk this evening, as it cools down at the river at this time of day, and is beautiful.  A breeze stirred the bulrushes and moorhens darted about.  It was lovely.  Unfortunately the river itself is rather stagnant, and when I came out from my paddle/drink I stank like old socks.  There is a man camping under the huge willow tree at the moment – I must say, he’s picked a stunning spot – and he was sitting on a camp chair outside his tent.  I rushed over to see if he was  eating anything, but he wasn’t.  Disappointing.  You would have thought he would be enjoying an alfresco snack on such a glorious summer’s evening. I hope he thinks on this for tomorrow night.

Do you know, She bumped into a nice neighbour of ours who lives next door to Ebony.  They were discussing dogs, and this lady’s grown-up daughter has a Beagle.  Of course, they didn’t have a good word to say about us.  The other Beagle pulls down curtains for fun, and all my misdemeanours had to be dragged up again.  It’s so monotonous.

On the way back from the river tonight, we walked past a man carrying a Tesco carrier bag.  It was quite full and he had clearly been to Tesco Express up the road.  I don’t know for sure what he had in there, but I damned nearly got my nose right into the bag – I was pulled away sharply and told I’m an embarrassment, but I was THAT close to grabbing some of his shopping.  Wouldn’t that have been a lark!

Well, Readers, as I look out at the garden I am shocked by the mess out there.  The nasty cheap Slip n Slide is still stretched out on the lawn, and people will  be tripping over the metal pegs tomorrow.  The borders need weeding, the grass is brown and distressed, and there is a cottage cheese pot in the middle of the goal.  (Another sign of the futile healthy eating bid.)  Now, yes obviously I put the cottage cheese pot there, but does it not occur to anyone to tidy up?  Or the six cat food bowls that I’ve distributed under the bushes? Dear dear, it’s ghastly.

I know for a fact that Meghan Markle’s bushes don’t need trimming, her lawn is immaculate and there are no cottage cheese pots on the grass at Nottingham Cottage South Ken.

See you soon.

Russell

Jammie dodger

1200px-JamiedodgerSomething very uncharacteristic of me has just happened, Readers.  Whilst walking home from the river, I accidentally didn’t notice a mini jammie dodger lying on the path.  I know!  I just wasn’t looking in the right direction and was busy smelling something else.  Of course, it had to be brought to my attention with lots of guffawing that I had missed something to eat – anyone with any tact would have left me blissfully ignorant.  I’m a little upset, I have to say, as I have a pretty amazing track record of finding snacks everywhere we go.  To be fair, I’d be more upset if it was a normal size jammie dodger, as those mini ones are just ridiculous.  Oh well.  It was a lovely walk this morning, and lots of my friends were down there nice and early, before it gets too hot.  Some time was spent paddling my paws in the river to cool down  a little, and then I was made to go back in the river after I rolled in fox cack in Far Field.  We still don’t go into Top Field at the moment because of the people having their camping holiday there last week – something to do with a sanitation issue, so I have to make do with Far Field.  So I had a good roll in some poo in Far Field, and was then moaned at and put on the lead, for the two mile walk of shame home.

It’s been a VERY busy few days.  For some ludicrous reason, everyone’s alarm clocks keep going off at 5.15am, which frankly is very vexing.  Gingercat and I are not ready to be woken at this time.  This is all due to Lad doing work experience at the Important Place in London, and having to catch a very early train.  I don’t see why we should all have to suffer because of this.  I’m glad Lad is enjoying his week, and it’s lovely to hear him talking more than he has done in several years, but I’ll be glad when the week is over.  Poor Lad.  In addition, poor Young Lad has been forced to play a stupid amount of cricket this week, with two lots of training, two matches and another lot of training tonight.  It is only Thursday, and this is downright unkind.  It’s all very well when She moans about the running around like a blue-arsed bldy fly, but the truth is that nobody has eaten a proper meal since Monday night’s home-made lasagne.  This is very poor and needs some attention.  Yes, I’ve benefited from the ready-meal trays, but that’s not the point.  I would like to see Lad and Young Lad sitting down with something nutritious and home-made tonight.  I won’t hold my breath though, as Young Lad  has more cricket training, and Lad will need collecting from the station nine miles away.  Gourmet cuisine will be a challenge on top of all this.

The last time they sat down to eat at the table, there was another interesting Dinnertime Debate.  This time, Lad was on his soapbox about immigration.  Now, Lad knows a lot about all sorts of things, as you know, Readers, and this was no different.  There was much debate about the UK’s lenient immigration policy compared to that of other countries, with Lad feeling that other countries have got it right.  The debate became quite heated, Readers, and somehow the British Empire, Slave Trade and Hitler all got dragged into the equation.  I found this extremely hard to follow, so gave up and went to sleep.  She and Lad eventually stopped shouting at each other and agreed to disagree, whilst Young Lad told them abut the girl-fight he had seen at school that day.  I do wish they would just watch Love Island and talk about that over dinner – it would be much less contentious.  I’m sure that’s what Meghan Markle does.

Now, I have to report some very bad behaviour.  Not me, though!  No, my dear friend Ebony, with whom I’ve been dumped the last two days, was in Big Trouble last night.  Readers, while her Pack Leaders were out, Ebony found a red pen at the back of the working surface, pulled it down and chewed it.  Red ink went everywhere – all over Ebony, the kitchen floor and, unfortunately, the carpet.  Ebony’s Pack Leader Male came home and saw all this red stuff everywhere, and quite understandably thought that Ebony was horribly injured.  She wasn’t.  She was, however, in disgrace for the rest of  the evening.  I don’t do things like this.  Pardon?  The bright blue oil pastel from Lad’s Art resources?  That was ages ago.

Poor He is working very long hours and going to work really early before it  gets hot.  I haven’t seen a lot of He this week, except in the evenings on the sofa, while the football is on. I’m looking forward to tonight’s match, as She has promised to buy snacks for them all to enjoy while they kick back and watch the game, after a hectic week.  See?  More junk food.  But Young Lad always drops loads of snacks due to difficulty coordinating his hand to his mouth, so I will be able to join in the snacking.  Last night I went to the cricket club, and during the first boring half hour where we have to go in the clubhouse and talk to everyone, yawn, I wandered round hoovering up the crisps from under the tables. Sadly, I also let off a vulgar smell in the clubhouse so was shouted at and taken outside.  Then we walked round the pitch several times, and I ate lots of bird poo.

Talking of birds, I don’t know what’s going on in my garden today.  This morning there were thirteen, yes THIRTEEN, Stupid Starlings on the bird table and lawn. There must be a nest of them in one of our trees, as they were quite young.  Well, it annoyed me as I had to keep running in and out to pick up any bread they dropped, plus thirteen large birds on your lawn is rather Hitchcock-like and sinister. Gingercat has been a bit useless at sorting out the birds, but in his defence, it is rather hot.

Oh dear,  the hoover is coming out of the cupboard and some frantic cleaning is about to start.  There will be no peace for the rest of the morning, and I’m trying to sleep.  I do hope poor Lad gets home safely from London and manages to sit down for a change on the train.  Sometimes I feel Lad and I are pushed beyond our limits.

See you soon.

Russell

Heatwave

IMG_0114 Phew what a scorcher today!  The temperature reached over 30 degrees this afternoon, and I had no choice but to lie in the full sun on a garden chair.  Oh, I was told this was stupid and moaned at, but I ignored her and carried on basking.  Only when I was about to pass out did I move back inside, where I lay on the lounge floor panting dramatically.   I haven’t even been taken for a walk yet – it was too hot during the day, and we are waiting for it to cool down apparently.

Well, it’s been an eventful couple of days.  I stand corrected, Readers, because I WAS taken for an evening walk on Saturday night, over the Rec, as it was decided we would be brave and face our fears of teenagers and illegal smells.  There were no teenagers or illegal smells over on the Rec on Saturday night, so I don’t know what the fuss was about.  We all had something of a lie-in on Sunday, though not a particularly good one as Gingercat started yowling at 5.30am and Young Lad decided to get up at 7.30.  Most of us slouched around the lounge all morning, apart from She who met her dear friend Loadsakids for a coffee before the big food shop.  She and Loadsakids held their usual conversations, which this time covered the prospect of a lovely family holiday in accommodation where, it has only just been discovered, there is no wifi.  They mused over the possibility of four teenagers being happy to go there for a week, and decided the chances were slim.   Some re-thinking is needed.

Next door’s Cockapoo puppy came round for the morning as usual, but I told it straight away not to bounce at me.  It took no notice.  Then we had a marvellous barbecue lunch, as it was such a warm day and England were playing in the World Cup.  It seems that a barbecue is obligatory at such times, and I must say it smelled fabulous.  Real succulent, meaty thick burgers dripping juice everywhere, and some outdoor-reared pork sausages to assuage anyone’s guilt about the meat industry.  I’ll be honest, I didn’t like the look of the two dried up vegetarian sausages that sat there looking miserable – really, why bother.  I mean, I would have eaten them if push came to shove, but infinitely prefer the genuine article.  So we all sat around eating lunch and watching the football.  I just watched the lunch.  None was forthcoming – not one morsel of sausage or Jersey Royal came my way. I did, however, actually climb into the dishwasher at loading time, to pre-rinse the plates, and they were lovely.

Well, then I was a little upset as I found her packing the overnight case upstairs.  This means one thing and one thing only.  Yes indeed, would you believe it;  She and Lad headed off to London for the night, as Lad is doing something called Work Experience at the Important Place in London for a whole week.  Pity was taken on Lad, as he has to catch a train at 6.30am each day, so in a clear case of over-parenting, he was taken up the night before to stay in a hotel round the corner.  This had the benefit of enabling Lad to roll out of bed, shower, eat breakfast and be where he needed to be for 8am, without the lottery that is the railway network.  For the rest of the bldy week, however, he is at the mercy of the bldy railway network he has been told.  So last night, I was here alone with He and Young Lad.  We had a very peaceful evening watching “Where Eagles Dare,” and having a sensible short walk over the Rec when it had cooled down.  He and Young Lad are far more reasonable about these things. 

Well, Readers, I was left here all by myself this morning until She returned from London. I had a good long kip on the beds and made quite a mess of the sheets by rumpling them. It was fun.  Gingercat and I still haven’t owned up about who made the canary yellow mess on the white John Lewis duvet the other day, and our lips are sealed.  Once Pack Leader returned, there was some frantic hoovering and cleaning, which included, for a rare change, washing the kitchen floor. I walked over it soon afterwards to make a point.  When She went out this afternoon, I pulled open the cupboard that used to have food in it, and threw a few carrier bags onto the floor.  It still irks me that all food has now been put out of my reach, so the occasional protest of a few carrier bags thrown around is necessary.  And some irritating Tupperware boxes, to make a further point.  In the back porch, I found a greeny coloured box and pulled it down – I thought it might be food, but in fact it was Miracle Gro.  Now, Miracle Gro is a dark green crystally type thing, which, it turns out, makes one heck of a mess when you knock a box on the floor.  I didn’t eat any, you’ll be pleased to know, as I know for a fact  that Miracle Gro isn’t good for dogs.  But it did make a fantastic mess, and I felt my protest was complete.

Poor Young Lad had cricket training after school tonight, which I personally think is downright cruel in this temperature.  It turns out they went inside for cricket training, but that’s not the point.  Pity was taken on him, especially as he hadn’t been over-parented last night like Lad, so ice- cold bottles of water and Maryland cookies were bought for Young Lad and his friends after cricket. Nobody provides me with ice-cold water and Maryland cookies, you notice.  She said to Young Lad, “I can’t be bothered to do lasagne for tea, it’s just too hot, I’ll do salad, ” but Young Lad protested and due to guilt issues, lasagne was duly made amongst much swearing and bad temper in the kitchen.  

Well,  alleluia;  it has now cooled down by three degrees so I am to have my evening walk. Young Lad has already fallen asleep twice on the sofa this evening, and poor Lad has to get up at 5.15am tomorrow in order to catch the train. I feel far too much is expected of us all, and things seem to be going downhill. The only silver lining to the endless cloud of work/school is that I will be going to dear, dear Ebony’s tomorrow so that I can lie in the sweltering sun in her garden.  And eat a lot of birdseed.

Keep cool, Friends.

Russell

Take your dog to work day

download Yesterday, Readers, was National Take Your Dog to Work Day!  No, of course they didn’t.  Whilst canines up and down the breadth of the country were taken to offices, factories, schools and studios and fussed over all day,  I was left at home as usual.  It would be too much to expect my family to do anything as innovative as taking me to work with them – I wouldn’t behave, apparently, would whine and beg for food all day, empty the bins and shed white fur all over the place.  Of course, none of the lucky dogs who WERE taken to work with their owners would have done any of these things…..  I was very disappointed with this attitude, and feel much maligned.  I would be an asset in any workplace.

To be fair, the day hadn’t started well as the  John Lewis white duvet cover, which was clean on two days ago, had in interesting patch of canary yellow over one part.  Actually there were three patches of canary yellow over three parts.  Now, according to the Collins English Dictionary, which is my constant companion, canary yellow is “a moderate yellow colour, sometimes with a greenish tinge.”  I hope you’re getting the picture.  So there was a loud screech at 6.10am when this was discovered.  The thing is, both Gingercat and I had been having a lovely sleep on the bed, and it wasn’t clear who was responsible for the canary yellow patches.  We both kept schtum, and wouldn’t own up.  I’m wondering whether this is what prompted the bad mood and refusal to take me to work.  At any rate, the John Lewis white duvet cover and pillows had to be shoved in the washing machine on a hot wash.

Lad had another good lie-in yesterday morning, which was rather nice. Poor Lad only has a couple  more days of lie-ins left for a while, so seems to be making the most of them.  She took me out for a lovely walk at the river, and Readers, we were accompanied by Colin the Labrador from next door.  Colin is rather young and bouncy, as you know, and several times he damn well nearly pushed me into the river by bouncing up behind me, but a few sharp snaps from me soon put him in his place. We walked a long way together, and as it was a hot day, took refuge in the wide part of the river to cool down.  It was very picturesque as the water was quite still, and I gazed down at my perfect reflection for ages. Colin rather spoiled this by bouncing around in the water and making ripples that ruined my reflection, which was aggravating to put it mildly. Still, it was nice to have company for a change and I was really quite worn out by the time we got home.

I had a quiet afternoon at home with Lad, whilst poor Young Lad had to dash in from school, with a mere forty minutes to change, eat and get out to yet another cricket match.  All this rushing around can’t be good for him.  

Understandably, we were all ready to drop by late evening, including Lad who had done some cleaning.  Thank goodness that the John Lewis white duvet cover had dried nicely on the washing line, so I had some decent bedlinen on which to rest my weary head. 

Poor He went into work at silly o’clock again today, and everyone else had a lie-in.  I’ve had a nice day, on the whole, although any responsible dog owner would have taken their dog out for a long walk nice and early while it was still cool. But oh no, it was far more important to “pop into town” first, so by the time we went out for my walk it was ruddy hot.  No sooner had we started off than, “Bonjour!” we heard from further down the path, and indeed it was her friend Madame who was out RUNNING in the heat.  Heavens above, what possesses people?  I was panting just from walking a short way in hot sunshine, and yet here was someone who had been RUNNING for seven miles.  I just can’t fathom it.  Admittedly I have a fur coat and Madame sensibly wasn’t wearing a fur coat, but even so.  I think it was a good thing we bumped into her, as She and Madame stood there yacking on for absolutely ages and this must have been effective in bringing down Madame’s heart rate.  I was bored beyond belief at their incessant chatter of bldy teenagers/bldy don’t do anything round the house/no you’re not having a ruddy allowance….  sheesh.  In the end I gave up and lay down on the grass until they had finished.  Dull or what.

In a rare attempt at being nature-friendly, She bought a job lot of suet balls and  filled coconut shells for the bird table today.  The containers have been stocked up and at this moment, Gingercat is sitting under the bird table, looking up at it.  I feel he will have an awful crick in his neck if he does this much longer, but he is clearly hoping for  a sparrow or starling, and does have great determination.  Not much of a success rate, but determination.  I haven’t tried those suet balls yet, but they look quite nice and greasy, so I’m looking forward to a Stupid Starling dropping some for me.

Ten minutes ago there was a half-hearted “do you want to go for an evening walk?” question thrown in my direction, but I could tell from the tone of voice that nobody’s heart is in it.  This is poor.  The fields by the river will be full of happy dogs and their owners enjoying the evening ambience, but I can’t see any sign of movement here.  Plus Young Lad and She are watching World’s Wildest Flights, which seems to be riveting.  Then there’s a football match on so bang goes my evening walk.  I might take revenge when the dishwasher loading starts in a minute – I know for a fact She made some chocolate cakes for Young Lad and Lad, as there is NOTHING TO EAT in this house again – we all know that this means there is a bowl, somewhere, with cake mixture in it.  I will grab it and run down the garden, where I can clean it out at my leisure under the bushes.

Oh, I’ve just been told it’s too late for a walk now, as it’s Saturday evening which means there will be lots of intimidating teenagers and illegal smells wafting across the field.  Pathetic.

I’ll let you know how I get on with the dishwasher.

Bye for now,

Russell

Let sleeping dogs lie

44751726-a-cartoon-illustration-of-a-beagle-sleeping-and-dreaming- I had a lovely sleep in my favourite armchair at dear Ebony’s house this afternoon.   It was incredibly peaceful, unlike my own house most of the time, as Ebony, her Pack Leader Male and I all had an afternoon snooze in the lounge.  We had all been over-doing things, and needed a rest.  You could have heard a pin drop, other than the occasional snore, as we dozed contentedly.  I do find it irritating when She says things like Fat Chance of A Bldy Afternoon Snooze for Some of Us, as it shows clear lack of understanding of the strain I’m under at times.  For example, the window cleaner has just rung the doorbell, and someone has walked past my house with a labrador, so I’ve had to bark and go ballistic TWICE in the last ten minutes.  This is exhausting.

Yesterday was rather nice, as Lad decided to stay at home for the day so I had some civilised company.  Actually we just stayed in bed and slept all morning, but this was fine by me.  There was the usual stressy leaving home for school/work early in the morning, with Young Lad being told a million times to pack his football kit ready for that afternoon’s match.  They drove off up the road with a sharp list of “football boots? Kit? shinpads?” being barked at him, but unfortunately Young Lad fell silent after the “shinpads?” bit.  Yes, Readers, Young Lad had forgotten his shinpads, so they had to drive back home to get them.  This caused an atmosphere in the car, and is another Time Management issue for Young Lad.  Anyway, after all this shouting and kerfuffle, Gingercat and I went back to sleep.  There was nothing else to do, as all the bins had been moved and doors shut.  When Lad finally surfaced at lunchtime, I decided it was time to get up and joined him downstairs.  Lad had been told to give me a walk, but luckily this wasn’t one of the ridiculous 4 mile power walks that She insists on.  No – Lad took me round the Rec and up to Tesco Express to buy some milk and sweets. Readers, this was a new experience for me.  Lad was unaware of the food shop/hygiene/no dogs rules, and took me INTO Tesco Express!!  Oh it was marvellous, I thought all my Christmases had come at once.  The smells!  Amazingly, none of the staff gently and kindly explained to Lad that dogs aren’t allowed in shops, so She had to tell him, in the “you did WHAT?” kind of way, later in the evening.  Lad now understands fully that he can’t take me into Tesco Express, which is a shame.

Communication was something of a problem here yesterday, Friends.  Young Lad, as you know, has had an extremely busy week on the sporting front, and yesterday had a football match after school.  It had been arranged that He would collect Young Lad from school after the football match at 4.30–4.45pm.  When He arrived at 4.40pm, there was no sign of Young Lad in the school car park;  this meant that some panicky phone calls were in order, before walking round the corner to the football pitch and finding that the game was still in progress.

Well, in a rare moment of generosity I was taken to cricket training last night!  You will remember that I wasn’t taken to the match on Monday as I’m a “pain” and interrupt the socialising, but last night pity was taken on me and I was SO excited when I heard my lead picked up!  What a wonderful evening I had, wandering round and round the pitch, sniffing out bird poo and occasionally digging it out of the grass with my paws.  It was a warm, glorious evening and there was really no need to sit in the bar talking for the first half hour – this was boring and frankly selfish.  There was a sublime moment when I got my lead tangled round a table and She had to unclip me – Readers, I saw my moment and raced out of the door, with She running after me, shouting.  I didn’t get very far, sadly, as there were some crumbs on the grass just near the clubhouse, so She caught up with me quickly.  Still, it was a nice try.

Now, tonight poor Young Lad was supposed to have after-school cricket training and then a match.  Thankfully the latter was cancelled, due to insufficient players, and the former…..well, Young Lad decided he was too tired  after the double whammy of a football match and cricket training yesterday.  To be honest, I don’t blame him, and think too much is expected of Young Lad at times.  It is far better for him to be lying on the sofa under the red fleece blanket watching football on the telly.  Lad has gone to see his Lad friends today, and is on his way back via many trains and buses.  Lad enjoys all these trips on public transport and it is a lovely sunny evening for such an adventure.

I’m a little annoyed with Lad, actually, as he has dobbed me in.  This morning, in between having a nice long lie-in, I did wander round and found a crisp packet or two, and some empty boxes put out for the recycling (or chucked in the back porch, as it is more accurately known.)  I decided to place all these things on the lounge carpet, and then rip them into small pieces which I could then spit all over the shop.  It was fun.  There are still several of these under the dining room table, which rarely gets cleaned under, so nobody will find them for months.  I do feel Lad has been a little disloyal in telling on me, and will be discussing this with him tomorrow.

Do you know, I was only thinking the other day that I haven’t updated you on a couple of things for a while.  Readers, Homeless Guy outside Sainsbury’s hasn’t been there for quite a while now – indeed, he has chosen a new pitch much closer to Costalotta.  This may or may not be a subtle hint; who knows.  He looks rather poorly and She is definitely going to find the time to buy him a coffee and talk to him soon.  But will still go to Dreggs to save the 50p.  The next update is more shocking, and I’m really quite embarrassed about this.  It is June.  Christmas was in December.  The Christmas lights that went round the windows are STILL dumped on a box in Lad’s bedroom, and have never been anywhere near the loft, which is where they are meant to be stored.  I make that 6 months of slovenliness whereby nobody can be bothered to pull down the loft ladder and put the bldy things away.  Readers, do you still have Christmas lights dumped in a bedroom?  Of course you don’t.

Meghan Markle definitely doesn’t still have Christmas lights dumped in a bedroom six months after the event.  Her house is clean, hygienic and doesn’t have dubious stains on the carpets.  I want to live in Nottingham Cottage South Ken, and it’s about time I started thinking about Plan B.  

See you soon,

Russell

 

 

G’day!

australia_b915348b-000a-42e5-9891-bf2d04f8aceb Yesterday was simply marvellous, Friends, marvellous.  I was visited at home by people that genuinely like and understand dogs.  These people had come all the way from the other side of the world to see me!  Wow, I couldn’t believe it.  All the way from Australia they came, as they wanted to spend time with me.  What an honour.  Pardon?  Well, yes ok they have been to London to go on the London Eye etc, and visited loads of relatives, but the highlight of their visit to England was definitely coming here yesterday.  I’m sure they said so.  And I know for a fact that their dog is allowed to sleep on their bed with no shame or secrecy attached to it – indeed, this is celebrated.  So I had a wonderful day, rolling on my back in the sunshine while my tummy was tickled, and my ears were stroked, and soft cooing noises were made to me.  In fact, Readers, I even showed off a little!  Whilst balancing precariously along my spine on the grass, legs stretched out in an impressive yoga pose, one of The Australians said how long can he stay like that then, and there was some chuckling.  Well. It turned out I could hold this pose for a very long time, such is the strength of my core muscles and abdominals!!  I must have been upside down perfectly balanced on a narrow ridge of bone for a full ten minutes!  How everyone admired me.

Lunch was eaten al fresco, which was rather pleasant I must say, and it was the everlasting picky bits, which seems to be about the only “luncheon” She can ever think of.  At least there was no Chocolate Baileys Cheesecake this time, which did make a refreshing change.  Lad was here all day yesterday as his exams have now  finished bldypraisebe.   Lad tried hard to remove a Fish Fingers box from my mouth, after I had dragged it out of the recycling bag and run under the bushes with it.  Lad failed to remove it from my mouth, and it was one of the Australians who used something akin to the Heimlich manouevre, and stood behind me, grabbed the box and removed it successfully.  I didn’t see that coming, I have to admit.  Australian removal techniques seem to be more efficient.   However, if my family think they will try this, I will still have their hand off.

Earlier in the morning, I had a lovely walk at the river although we still couldn’t go up in the woods due to the ongoing camping holiday.  She says it will  be months before I can go back up there.  I was  thinking to myself that the Bastard Swans haven’t been down there for ages – I haven’t seen them now for months.  What a terrible shame.  Dear Chuck was down there, with his silky coat shining in the sun, and we spent a while inspecting each other’s rear ends as usual.  I would have preferred a slow, leisurely walk with plenty of sniffing, but oh no, we had to march fast as there was a lot to bldy do and we needed to crack on.  Readers, you can imagine the tune to which we marched round Far Field.  Yes indeed.  Something by Ted Drearen, or whatever he’s called; one of his rockier songs, obviously, as you can’t walk fast to a ballad. 

I was rather disappointed last night, Friends, to find that I wasn’t allowed to go to Young Lad’s cricket match.  Now, you know how I love walking round the cricket ground over and over and over again for a couple of hours, but no. This was deemed to be too annoying, as it means that you can’t sit and chat to people when  you have a Beagle on the end of the lead, barking every time you stand still. Standing still talking to people HAS to be the most boring activity ever, and yet She manages to do it for hours!  It’s so dull.  Anyway, I was left at home on the pretext that being “on teas duty” meant nobody would be able to supervise me.  What nonsense.  “Teas duty,” my foot.  How hard can it be – cups of squash, a plate of biscuits and some cake.    He, She and Young Lad all spent the evening at cricket, and I was left home alone with Lad, to watch the England match.  It was quite good but on the whole I slept through it.

Young Lad struggled to wake up early this morning, and to be honest this is only going to get worse this week.  Poor Young Lad has 2 cricket matches, a football match, and cricket training all in the space of four days.  This is an appalling amount of physical activity for Young Lad, and I worry about him.  Admittedly he is happily lying on the sofa at the moment in a very relaxed way, stuffing breadsticks, but I fear he will have wasted away to nothing by the end of this week.  Poor Young Lad.  Lad, on the other hand, is enjoying a life of leisure for one week, and we have the house to ourselves as everyone is at school/work.  I won’t tell you what we get up to.  What goes on tour….  

Lad made a late decision, today, to go out with his friends, so I was dropped off at Ebony’s house mid-afternoon.  I was disappointed with this, as I only had a couple of hours there – but this was enough to eat lots of bird seed, so there will be an interesting texture to my comfort breaks again tomorrow.  I also had a walk over the Rec with Ebony, and found myself running – yes, running! – at full pace, and really quite enjoying myself!  How light-hearted and energetic I was this afternoon.  Maybe it was the birdseed.  That said, I am very tired now and lying upside down in my chair with my eyes tightly shut.  He looked a little like this, on the sofa, just before dinner, albeit He wasn’t upside down.  This is due to poor He working ridiculously long hours at the moment – He and I have really been pushing ourselves too much.

Well, I can only hope that Lad stays at home with me tomorrow, and doesn’t make a last minute decision to abandon me in favour of his friends.  Plus there’s cricket training and I will be furious if I don’t get taken this time – there is bound to be lots of fresh bird poo around.

See you soon,

Russell

And your point is?

IMG_0089 Yes, I did empty the revoltingly full bathroom bin round the landing and Lad’s bedroom.  Yes it was spectacularly over-full after Lad’s three fellow Lad friends had slept here for the night, but what of it?  I was bored, for the forty minutes I  had no company this weekend, and had no choice but to throw tissues, toothpaste tubes, cotton buds, sweet wrappers and toilet roll cardboard tubes all over the shop.  It was a shocking mess, I’ll grant you, but it was fun.  If I hadn’t been left on my own, while they went into town to buy Fathers’ Day cards etc, the problem wouldn’t have arisen. So I can hardly be held accountable.

Anyway, I had a marvellous time with Lad and his friends, who against all expectations managed to navigate the late night trains and find their way back from the end-of-exams party in one piece.  As predicted, they all slept in the lounge on an array of mattresses and the sofa, and there was a huge pile of snacks on the table.  It smelled marvellous.  Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to sleep with them, as I would have whined to go out for a comfort break at 6am and they might only just have fallen asleep, so this would have been unfair.  However, when there was still no sign of life from the lounge at ten o’clock the next morning, She sniggered that it was time to “send in the dog”, so the door was opened for me to run in and climb all over the sleeping bodies.  They enjoyed this.  So did I, as there was a plethora of Pringles crumbs and chocolate in between the beds.  I hoovered it all up.  Now, the plan had been for Lad and his friends to go up to London, in order to buy lots of lovely over-priced designer clothes to wear now that school has finished until September.  However, Lad and his friends were still lounging on their beds  at lunchtime, happily playing on the Xbox and eating a cooked breakfast, and so it was decided that nobody could be bothered to go shopping.  I would have liked the cooked breakfast but nobody offered me any; though to be fair, I did end up with a miniscule piece of over-cooked bacon that had dried up.  It wasn’t great.

I was sad when Lad’s friends finally headed off to the station, as I had enjoyed their company.  This was partly why I had to pull everything out of Young Lad’s school bag, and trash the bathroom bin, while She, Lad and Young Lad had gone to the Card Factory.  Young Lad’s school bag didn’t have any food in, which was disappointing, but I chucked his maths equipment and Science book round the study anyway.  It was something to do.

Then I had a marvellous walk at the river, in the afternoon. Many, many of my friends were down there,  including Rocco the oh so inspirational three-legged dog.  Now, Friends, there was a rather unfortunate moment for Rocco, as he was accompanied by some children who were on scooters.  Unfortunately, one of the children mis-timed their stopping ability on the scooter, and crashed into Rocco.  As Rocco only has three legs, it’s hard to balance at the best of times, and once a scooter and child collides with you, it’s nigh on impossible.    Rocco was a very good sport, though, and rolled around on the ground quite happily for a while.  He truly is inspirational.  We went over the bridge and into Top Field, which made a pleasant change as we haven’t been up there for a while, due to the people in their white  caravans and transits, who appear to be having a nice camping holiday.    We walked to the top of Top Field, but once we realised they were still having their camping holiday, we very swiftly turned round and came back down.

Today has been busy.  Poor He had to go into work at silly o’clock again this morning, and I feel very sorry for He.  Especially as it was Father’s Day.  The good thing was that he returned mid-morning, and a Family Brunch of bacon rolls was had, with everyone sitting down in a civilised way with mugs of tea.  She didn’t have a bacon roll, of course, due to the calories factor, but joined in with the mugs of tea.  I could have had her share of the bacon rolls, but nobody offered me one. They smelled divine.  Then He went off to play cricket and Young Lad was told to get on with his homework.  Young Lad needed this repeated several times over the next half hour, and I felt very sorry for him because he misunderstood the instruction.  Young Lad thought “get on with yourbldy homework” actually meant, “just write down the list of homework, then faff around on your phone for the rest of the morning.”    Poor Young Lad.  This was an easy mistake.  Anyway, after much shouting and general tension, Young Lad understood that he actually had to do his homework, rather than writing down what the tasks were.  Readers, I felt even more sorry for Young Lad when he was told that his Maths work on Volume was DISGUSTINGLY  scruffy, and he was not bldy well handing that in, the shame of it.  Poor Young Lad had to write it out again.  Young Lad was close to tears, and so was I to be honest.

This afternoon things looked up a little, as She, Lad and Young Lad took me down to the cricket club to watch He playing.  Now this was unprecendented, as Lad hasn’t set foot in the cricket club for quite a long time now, and She was fully prepared for a battle over this.  But no!  Lad quite understood that it was Fathers’ Day and he WOULD be coming down to the bldy cricket club to watch his Father play cricket for an hour.  This was marvellous, Friends, as Lad and I rolled around on the grass together and had some special bonding time.  I think Lad forgot to watch the cricket, but that’s because he was so busy playing with me.  It was lovely.  Young Lad forgot to watch his Father playing cricket, too, as Young Lad was busy practising in the nets with his friends.  Still, it’s the thought that counts.

Tonight there has been a lot of baking as Young Lad has a cricket match tomorrow night, and it’s our turn to make the cakes.  However, as usual there was an appalling error of judgement and not enough cake mixture was made for 30 cakes.  This wasn’t helped by Lad constantly trying to eat it.  Some mild swearing was heard, once the penny dropped there were only 20 cakes made and this is not the same as the total of two cricket teams plus the coaches, plus Lad and Young Lad who will want one.  So the mixer had to be plugged in again.  Readers, this is shoddy organisation and it really isn’t that hard to calculate 11 plus 11 plus a few more.

Rumour has it that I might be receiving some visitors tomorrow!!  Lad has been paid to cut the grass, do the hoovering and empty the airing cupboard.  This is partly because She is busy working on a Secret Project at the moment, and partly because Lad’s recent clever money-making scheme actually lost money last week, and he’s skint.  Visitors!!! How exciting, I can’t wait.  Plus a cricket match in the evening, which means eating bird poo round the boundary.  Happy days, Friends, Happy days.

Bye for now,

Russell

Yogurt

IMG-20180615-WA0000-1 (1)Here I am, Readers, shoving my snout right the way into a yogurt pot this morning.  I was determined to clean it out completely, and this necessitated putting my entire nose in so that I could lick the bottom of it.  This was at dear Ebony’s house, where I spent the morning while everyone was at school/work.  To  be honest, I couldn’t wait to get there again, and refused to look back as I sprinted out of my own house.  I spent an extremely happy morning there, until Lad arrived home from school at lunchtime to collect me.

Yes, the day has arrived.  Lad has finished his final GCSE exam and has officially finished school until September.  This is Marvellous News all round, for everyone, as we are heartily sick of all the revision, and the piles of post it notes and index cards all over the house.  Well done, Lad, you have worked hard.  Not in an organised or efficient way at all, but definitely hard. Tonight I’ve had a lot of fun, as three of Lad’s friends arrived here as they are all going to a celebratory party.  I lay on the sofa with them while they all sat around chatting and laughing, and they made such a fuss of me.  It is so nice to be appreciated for a change.  I like Lad’s friends as they seem to be permanently eating here, which is marvellous on the begging for snacks or dropped food front.  There is a Fantastic Spread of complete rubbish on the table for them, for when they return from the party.  This consists of crisps, more crisps, chocolate, biscuits, more crisps and loads of drink.  What this lacks in nutrition, it makes up for in enjoyment value. I would certainly enjoy it, if anyone turns their back for long enough.  There is a small chance that I’ll be able to sleep in the lounge with the four Lads and the Fantastic Spread tonight – cross your fingers, Readers.  Rumour has it there might be a Cooked Breakfast for them tomorrow, too!  I do wish Lad’s friends could come over more often, as someone is clearly trying to impress them.  We all know this level of hospitality is rarely seen here.

Pack Leader is back home, having been away for the night with her dear friend Chelseagirl.  For some reason they went all the way to London to see Ted Drearan or whatever he’s called – I fail to see why anyone would go to this effort, to see one man play his guitar for two hours.  Admittedly, eighty thousand people felt this was a good way to spend an evening, but really!  There is often a man playing his guitar outside the pub in the market place up the road – it would be far cheaper to stand and listen to him.  It can’t be that different from watching Ted/Ed or whatever his name is – a ballad is a ballad, surely.  People are strange at times.  Anyway, Chelseagirl and She had a lovely time pretending they are a lot younger than they are, and singing wildly whilst waving their phone torches in the air.  (Well, Chelseagirl couldn’t find her torch on her phone but you get the idea.)

Hopefully all this ridiculous behaviour and incessant going out for meals is now at an end.  I’m fed up with being neglected and other people having to look after my welfare.

Young Lad has had a busy week at school and is very tired tonight.  He has decided to “take it easy” this weekend, which is no different from any other weekend in Young Lad’s life, and will involve a fair amount of time spent on the sofa.  Young Lad has been asked how much homework he has, and he very cleverly answered this non-verbally with a shrug.  The shrug conveyed two messages:  I don’t know, and I don’t give a monkey’s, in one simple movement.  Well done, Young Lad.  In all honesty, there is a lot of football on telly over the weekend, due to the World Cup having started, and this will obviously take priority. 

Poor He has to go to work very early tomorrow morning, and has promised He will try not to wake anyone up at 6am – especially the four Lads in the lounge who will only just have fallen asleep, after spending the night eating snacks. I rather hope He doesn’t wake me up either, as I will also be asleep after an exhausting  day of socialising. 

Well, this is rather a short blog tonight, Readers, as time is getting on and  another episode of the Scandi Nordi drama noir thing is about to start on BBC2.  It makes a change from Ambulance, 24 Hours in A & E, or GPs  Behind Closed Doors, I suppose.

See you soon,

 

Russell

Double standards

IMG_0020 Please look at this, Readers.  Unbelievable.  In this diagram, Gingercat is clearly trying to pull a plum tomato off Lad’s plate.  Gingercat was actually after the pepperoni pizza, but the plum tomato was in the way.  Now, ask yourselves this.  If I had been trying to pull food off their plates, what would have happened?  Would they have laughed and said quick get the camera/he’s so funny/oh just look at him etc etc etc?  No of course they wouldn’t.  I would have been shouted at, sent to my chair and told I’m naughty.  Does this seem fair to you?  Utter favouritism.

Well it’s rather late to be writing tonight, but there has been a lot of rushing around what with work and cricket training.  Don’t expect this to be up to much as She’s watching 24 Hours in A & E at the same time, so won’t be concentrating.  I fail to see the attraction of all this tense medical drama – last night we had to watch Ambulance on catch up, and it would be so nice one day to watch something that doesn’t have that serious bit at the end, telling you what happened to all the people featured.  Give me strength.  Young Lad has just headed to bed, exhausted after a day at school, walking into town with his friend afterwards to buy a Coke in the pound shop and use the toilet at Costalotta, then playing cricket in his friend’s garden before an hour and a half of cricket training.  Poor Young Lad.  Even the syrup pudding specially made for him tonight won’t replace all those calories burned.  Lad is on the Xbox – not normally allowed on a school night – but he has no exams tomorrow so a day at home revising is in order.  Thus a chill -out on the Xbox tonight is permitted.   In the kitchen He is emptying the dishwasher, but I’m not sure He’s found the bowl I ran down the garden with earlier; the one with the syrup pudding mixture in.  Or the crisp packet I’ve thrown under the apple tree, or the Shreddies box I’ve torn up by the rose bushes.

It’s been a nice day today, as I was dropped at dear Pippa’s house at 7.30am for daycare.  This was fun, and I couldn’t wait to get in the door.  I’d had a bad night, Readers, as I needed a comfort break at 3am and another one at 5am.  I was exhausted from this broken sleep, but I didn’t moan about it unlike some people.  Then Pippa’s Pack Leader brought me home, once Lad was back from school and I had a peaceful afternoon with him.  Lad was a little cross with me last night, as I had left a present in his bed for him.  Actually in his bed, under the duvet.  It was a bone.  I had dug and dug, pulling his duvet into all sorts of weird shapes, to ensure the bone was buried right underneath it.  Lad had no idea it was there until he got into bed.  This was a surprise.

Well, I can’t believe it is nearly here at last!  Are you ready for this?   The LAST EXAM is on Friday!  Yes, after four weeks of intense testing and what feels like three years of revision, Lad has nearly finished his GCSEs.  I can feel you sighing with relief from here, and you’re right, it has been remarkably dull.  The thing is, Lad and his friends will need to celebrate the end of the exams, so of course there is a House Party to attend on Friday night.  This means a nice late-night pick-up by She or He, and to add to the occasion, Lad has asked if his friends can “crash” here for the night.  I will enjoy this – last time they crashed here, there were four large Lads of Lad’s age sleeping in the lounge, plus me.  It smelled very special in there in the morning.  Lad has been told he is welcome to have them to stay, but he we have to do the cleaning beforehand.  Lad is thinking about this.  He did say that the cleanliness of the house isn’t important. but after a sharp look from She, he re-thought this.  Lad will be hoovering and cleaning the bathrooms before his friends can set foot through the front door.

So, Lad is here all day tomorrow which is marvellous, as he won’t expect much of me.  He has been told he will be taking me for a long walk, but we all know what the reality will be.  Young Lad has cricket after school, and we’re hoping he remembers all his kit this time.  He will be collecting Young Lad after after-school cricket, as She won’t be here.  Yes, in yet another incident of abandonment, we are being left by ourselves tomorrow night while She goes to see Ed Sheeran with Chelseagirl.  I ask you.  There is no need to go all the way to Wembley for this; you just download some music on your phone, even I know this.  And they will see bugger all from the very top of Wembley Stadium (cheap seats of course).  Oh well, there is nowt as queer as folks.  I’ll stay here and watch Chicago PD with Young Lad.

I’m hoping the Aussie relatives come up to see me one day next week, as I would very much like to see them. They were nice, and understand troubled dogs.  It’s on the List Of Things To Do,  to find a date that is convenient.  Nobody will consult me, of course.  The List of Things To Do never seems to get any shorter.  There is an efficiency issue here.

It’s recycling this week, Readers.  This means lots of recycling bags put out, full of boxes and packages that contained food.  I like Recycling week. It’s particularly fun to wait until He has painstakingly tied up the sacks, then rip a big hole and drag it all round the garden.  It makes everyone laugh.

As I thought, someone’s oxygen levels have dropped dangerously low and that is causing far too much distraction, so I’m off for a kip.

Bye for now,

Russell

 

 

 

Carvery

carvery_logoI’m fed up with it.  This is the second time they have been out to a carvery,  in the last three months.  On neither occasion have I been taken along, and you all know full well how much I would enjoy a carvery.  The huge, puffy Yorkshire puds, the tender beef and crisp pork crackling, the thick gravy……. it’s utterly selfish, of course, and completely typical of them.  Oh no, I get farmed out yet again to poor Ebony’s long-suffering family, as I can’t be trusted to stay at home by myself.  Well, Readers, I heard some discussion of yesterday’s carvery meal, and it seems the puddings weren’t “all that”, which serves them right.  There was moaning that a nice sticky toffee pudding, or cheesecake with a proper biscuit base was needed, but sadly lacking.  Good.  Hope the bland yellow unidentifiable custardy type dessert choked them.

So yes, another day at dear, dear Ebony’s house where I had company and love in abundance.  Ebony had relatives round, of the child type, and they all adored me too.  I really wasn’t that fussed about going home, in all honesty, and it was only the slight chance that I might be able to wangle a second dinner that made this bearable.  I didn’t wangle a second dinner, as it happens, as Ebony’s Pack Leader made a point of saying that I’d been fed.  And raided the dishwasher.  And had some ham and chicken.  I made sure my own family knew about this all evening by the variety of smells emitted from my backside.

Well,  I’m sure it was all very nice, seeing the Aussie relatives and Funnygit with his family.  As an added bonus, young J (cast your minds back, Readers;  I started the blog when poor J was having nasty things done to him at somewhere called the Marsden) was out for this lunch  too, with his Pack Leader and family. It all sounds simply lovely, drinking wine in the bar and basking in the sun with coffees. I know for a fact that there was a large grassy area on which I could have been walked, as this is where the younger members of the luncheon party went to play football, but no, of course, it wasn’t ‘dog-friendly.’ I’m not sure it was football-friendly either, but that didn’t stop them.  Or ripped-jeans friendly, come to think of it, but  even that wasn’t a factor.   

In a remarkable show of punctuality, Lad and Young Lad were both ready to leave home at 10.20am, which was only twenty minutes after the official leaving home time of 10am.    This, then, incurred only twenty minutes of shouting bldy hurry up and whatdoyoumean you’re still in the bldyshower  and do you have anybldyidea what the bldymotorway will be like and so on and so forth.   Gingercat and I slept through this as it was very dull.  Lad  had really risen to the occasion of a nice family lunch out, by eschewing his hideous Adidas sliders for some slightly less hideous Nike trainers, which made the designer ripped jeans look almost quite smart.  Not one to be outdone on the brand names front these days, Young Lad was head to toe in Nike Airmax.  Sometimes She sighs wistfully and remembers the days that Lad and Young Lad could be dressed in clothes from Woolworths.  (Yes!  Aren’t we showing our age!  But don’t you miss it, Readers?  You know you do.  Pickamix, garden shears, records and lip gloss all under one roof.)

I digress.  Today they have all been at work/school, so quelle surprise, I’ve been to daycare at dear, dear Pippa’s house.  This was marvellous as I haven’t been there for a week or so, and Pippa and I lay in the sunshine after our walk. Lad had an exam this morning (poxy Biology) and was home at lunchtime, which was rather nice.  He relaxed for “an hour” – he says – on the Xbox, before cracking on with more revision, as tomorrow is CRAP.  The morning’s exam is Maths- The Calculator Paper, which makes life harder not easier as one would expect, as it is all do to with the cosine rule etc.  Stay awake.  Then, after crappy Maths, it’s even crappier History in the afternoon, which is 150 pages of the Cold War.  Lad is on page 23 as we speak.  Oh dear.  Poor Lad.  Lad has even said he might have to miss the lunchtime trip to MacDonalds tomorrow, to stay in school and try to get through the other 127 pages before the exam.

Readers, I fear that Young Lad’s organisational skills have not picked up much from last week.  Last night he was told to check his cricket bag was packed for after-school cricket today.  This morning he was told to check again, and make sure he had his PE kit too.  When they drove near his school this morning, Young Lad asked whether She had put the cricket bag in the car.  No, She hadn’t, he was told calmly and nicely with no edge in the voice at all.  Oh dear, Poor Young Lad.  He had indeed checked that everything was in his cricket bag, and he had indeed packed his PE kit.  Unfortunately he made the schoolboy error of not putting the cricket bag in the car, and walking straight past it when he left the house.  Young Lad wasn’t allowed to participate in Hard Ball Cricket at school tonight, as he didn’t have his protective gear, and had to play soft ball cricket with some other hopeless cases from Year 8 who had also failed to bring the right things.  Maybe this will be a lesson to him, but I very much doubt it.

To be fair, though, he has found the list of ingredients for Food Technology tomorrow, and there was only a minor dash to Sainsbury’s tonight in order to buy butter (have  you seen how expensive butter is these days?!) and golden syrup, as the bit left in the tin in the cupboard was rather crusty and not really fit for purpose.  Though of course, it will be used quite happily here.  Tomorrow’s Food Technology is Ginger Biscuits, and I’m looking forward to these immensely.

Tomorrow She is actually not working, and I might have a decent walk down at the river in the morning.  However, we will have to be careful as there are some, er, now how can I put this in a politically correct way, er, visitors in the field the other side of the river.  These visitors turned up last night in some large white vehicles, towed by rather expensive cars, and they appear to be having a nice camping holiday.  They have lots of dogs .  And some horses.  And to be honest, our drive is in rather a shoddy state of repair so it won’t come as any surprise if one of the visitors knocks the door and asks if we would like them to re-surface it.

So, Readers, I will let you know how Lad gets on with his Crappy day tomorrow, and whether the ginger biscuits were worth the £1.60 for a packet of butter, or whether Flora would have sufficed.

Bye for now,

Russell