Bottoms Up

swan 2bottom up

Down at the river this morning, the Bastard Swans were doing this silly thing where they stick their backsides up in the air whilst diving down under the water.  They look absolutely ridiculous.  I stood and watched for a little while, hoping that they might drown but sadly they managed to turn themselves up the right way after a while.  It was quite boring.

Readers it is unseasonably mild for mid-February.  Really it was quite spring-like and I felt compelled to walk slowly, stopping to sniff each blade of grass in turn.  As we were on a four mile walk, this made the going rather slow and I was shouted at a lot.  In fact, the  harsh screech of “HURRY UP RUSSELL!!” filled the air as I wandered slowly through Top Field, Top Top Field and Top Top Top Field.   One of these days we might have a walk without any nagging or irritated tone. She was partly cross as I chose to have my comfort break in lower Top Field and as there are no dog poo bins that side of the river, the little black bag had to be carried through three fields and back down again.  This seemed to be aggravating though Lord knows why.

I was thrilled, simply thrilled this morning to see my old friend Chuck down there.  I haven’t seen him for so long, and we ran to each other like long lost brothers.  But then I realised there might be some bread out on the grass for the birds down by the houses so I dumped Chuck and bolted off to look.

Last night was Slovenly Pizza night on the sofa – I know, doesn’t it come round quickly!  Although only He had pizza this time, as Lad was out, She made do with scrambled egg and Young Lad had been to MacDonalds after school. Then, Readers, something awful happened.

Instead of relaxing on the sofa, Young Lad and She went upstairs, and I heard the ladder being pulled down from the roof.  This means one of two things; 1) it is Christmas and the decorations are being looked for or 2) the suitcases are being brought down.  Now I know quite well that it’s February and therefore not Christmas, so it could only mean suitcases.  I don’t like it when the suitcases come down.

There followed an hour of huffing and puffing in Young Lad’s bedroom as he lay on the bed which was his idea of packing, and She stood around moaning at him.  Between them they eventually packed his suitcase with a range of nylon sports tops, shorts and track suit bottoms, not to mention enough clean underwear to last several days. I lay on the floor in Young Lad’s room while all this was going on, which was very vexing it seems, as it is a very small bedroom and I was blocking the  tiny space between the wardrobe and the suitcase.

My interest stirred a little when I saw the final stage of the packing, which was a huge array of sweets, chocolate biscuits and crisps for snacks in case Young Lad should get hungry.

I really do not like seeing suitcases, and when Young Lad’s was brought down to the hall and put by the front door, I slunk off to my chair and looked depressed.

Then this morning – bear in mind it was Saturday – the ruddy alarm clock went off early again which really, really annoyed Gingercat and I.  Off went Young Lad, She and He in the car, to drop Young Lad at school for his school football trip to Madrid.  It beggars belief that instead of making him go on an educational excursion to Pompeii and Rome, or a nice geographical journey to hot geysers in Iceland, Young Lad is allowed to go on a football jolly.  I’m staggered at this level of namby-pambying.  Instead of camping out under the stars or climbing up a volcano, Young Lad and thirty nine other testosterone-fuelled teenagers are flying British Airways to Madrid, staying in a four-star hotel and watching/playing/training lots of football.  For four days!  I mean how utterly meaningless. What on earth Young Lad is expected to learn from this I do not know – other than which fast food outlet at Heathrow he finally decided on for lunch.  I take his point, but I still feel this is poor parenting.

I had a couple of lovely days at the end of the week – Thursday was spent with dear, dear Ebony again, and yesterday with dear, dear Pippa.  I am so lucky to have these wonderful friends and I like to think that they are lucky to have my company, even though I spend most of the time asleep on the soft furnishings.

It’s a very peaceful Saturday evening here.  Lad is on the Xbox in the study, He is out and Young Lad as we know is in a four star hotel.  So it is just She, Gingercat and I on the sofa and it would be very pleasant if it wasn’t for the choice of TV programmes.  As is catching up with the documentary “Hospital” wasn’t bad enough, I’m now having to sit through 23 Hours in A & E as well.  It’s very difficult to sleep with all these sirens, helicopters and beeping machines every five minutes, not to mention the silly dramatic music.  Really it is most distracting.  Why can’t She just watch something soothing like Doc Marten or Masterchef?  It’s so selfish.

Tomorrow I am hoping for a PROPER lie-in as nobody needs to get up for work/school and Young Lad will be waking up in his four-star hotel as we know. It will be hard for him to adjust to lower standards all round when he returns.  Poor Young Lad.  I’m looking forward to another lovely long walk and I intend to take my time again – I will NOT be hurried along all the time like I was today.  I feel I need to make a stand tomorrow.

I do hope you are having a peaceful Saturday evening too, Readers, and watching something more uplifting than the endless medical dramas I have to endure.

Bye for now,

Russell

 

 

 

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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