An 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.