Today, Friends, was Food Technology for Young Lad at school and I always really look forward to trying whatever he has produced. Young Lad has previously made a splendid job of fruit salad, flapjack, rock cakes and macaroni cheese – in fact, the only slightly disappointing fare was the scone spiral but even that I would happily have eaten. Had anyone given me any. Well, I am pleased to say that Young Lad is back on tremendous form with his bread rolls – a small piece fell on the kitchen floor tonight, and it was light and fluffy. The perfect texture; well done, Young Lad. It barely touched the sides as I snaffled it down.
This was just before a hot jacket potato from the oven fell on the floor, and I made the mistake, Readers, of trying to snaffle that as well. I grabbed a chunk (it had split everywhere) and ran to my bed – unfortunately a 220 degree oven meant that the potato was blisteringly hot and this was an error of judgement on my part. It hurt. I still ate it though.
It’s been a funny couple of days. Yesterday She was here for the morning and I actually had some company – normally this involves a ridiculously long stomp across the fields but for once I wasn’t forced into such an epic trek. Indeed, I was sound asleep in my chair when there was some huffing and puffing about “suppose you’d better have a bldywalk” and my collar and lead were attached. Readers, I did not want a bldywalk and was perfectly happy to stay where I was. But of course I wasn’t listened to, and even though I refused to budge from the chair, I was pulled bodily by the lead and dragged round the Rec in the drizzle. When we got home, we both climbed straight under a blanket on the sofa and stayed there for two hours. Which is what I wanted to do in the first place.
There was no mad dashing around to football training last night as Young Lad’s sore hand meant he needed to rest it – of course this didn’t extend to the Xbox. I felt this was very pleasant change from the normal Wednesday way of things and was able to sleep in peace, instead of listening to the yelling of “WATER BOTTLE!! BOOTS!!” and the like. To compensate for poor Young Lad missing football training, She knocked up a steamed syrup pudding which is Young Lad’s favourite – oh dear, Friends. Last night the level of concentration wasn’t good and I’ve no idea how it went so horribly wrong, but what appeared was more of a cowpat than a syrup pudding. It wasn’t edible, for them anyway, though I did try a bit as the plate went in the dishwasher. It was quite a nice cowpat – it tasted better than the ones I’ve rolled in.
I was so annoyed last night, Friends. You know how much I value a good night’s sleep without interruption, but last night’s events were an abomination. Cough, cough, cough, bldy cough, cough. That was She. Then Lad came rushing in with a pint of water to see if that would help
shut her up and my sleep was disturbed for longer while Lad decided to stay and chat as he couldn’t sleep. Readers, it was 2am. Gingercat had heard all this racket from out in the garden, so he came in and started yowling. I had JUST got back to sleep when what do you know, the ruddy alarm clock went off. And the central heating that needs a power-flush cranked into action.
You will notice that Young Lad and He had failed to be disturbed by any of this racket – well, lucky them.
I can only hope that tonight is better, as one of the above factors has been fixed. The pipes have been power-flushed by the local friendly plumber today – it was quite a job by all accounts and we are looking forward to the bldybill. It’s a shame the plumber couldn’t do anything about the other problems.
Tonight’s Dinnertime Debate was about whether Hitler did, in fact, die in 1945. My family do like a light-hearted discussion over their jacket potatoes. Young Lad feels it really was Hitler’s body in the bunker, but Lad says there is a conspiracy theory that suggests the whole thing was staged and that Hitler was actually living in Brazil. Lad and He do like a conspiracy theory, and I’ve had to sit through dreary deliberations over the Moon Landing and JFK’s assassination before now. How many other beagles have to endure this while waiting to clean the plates before they go in the dishwasher? It’s such nonsense and bores me rigid.
Friends, I have some bad news. I hope you are ready for this. Tomorrow evening I am going away for a week – yes, a whole week – with He and Grandma. We did this last year, and had a splendid week in Cornwall where I had many jolly japes including going on a bus (I sat very nicely) and lots of long walks on the beach. It was so pleasant that we are repeating the experience and I will be away for several days. Thus, Friends, there will be no blog for a week – unless my behaviour is so poor that Grandma phones She to snitch on me.
I know, and I’m sorry. My blog had over one thousand views this month, and I know for a fact I have some new beagle-people followers, who will be devastated at this news. Look, good things come to those who wait and I will be back with my merry tales next weekend. In the meantime it’s possible that the house might be cleaned, and Lad/Young Lad might have ironed shirts to wear to school as there will be some “extra” time due to not writing the blog.
Talking of which, Young Lad was sent to school today with no lunch. Can you believe this? The standard of care just falls further and further – poor Young Lad went to eat his packed lunch and was absolutely starving, only to find there was no sign of any food in his bag. Lad had been given a nice packed lunch. Young Lad had been forgotten. This is dreadful mistreatment – Young Lad had no choice but to buy carrot sticks and hummus from the school canteen (an interesting choice) and eat his own bread rolls on the long walk home. Without butter. And the excuse given? “Oh I thought I had made you some lunch.” Clearly not. Eyes. Being. Taken. Off. The. Ball.
It rather worries me what the level of care will be like here, when He and I are away next week. Will Gingercat still be here when I return? Will Lad have moved out in search of better parenting? Will Young Lad have faded away completely?
To be honest I feel I really need this break away, as I have to put up with such a lot. I will miss dear Ebony and Pippa dreadfully, but really my life is so stressful that I need some space in which to find myself again.
Don’t you worry, Readers, I will be back.
Bye for now,