I had a marvellous time this afternoon, Readers, in the glorious sunshine in Top Field. Someone had cut the grass up there and in the warm glow of the sun it was easy to spot all the millions of rabbit droppings lying in the hillocks. I spent ages meandering slowly from hillock to hillock, eating pile after pile of dry pellets. It really was quite heavenly.
I had been moaned at non-stop at the beginning of our walk for dawdling – look, when the weather is this good, who wants to rush? There was all the time in the world to run off up to the houses looking for food and check out the area where someone throws stuff out for the birds – quite what the rush was I do not know. Moan, moan, moan. And yes, I was miles behind and yes, I kept running off but so what? All that aggressive blowing of the whistle and waving biscuits at me was unwarranted.
I wouldn’t have minded but this was my SECOND walk of the day. Yet again He took me out in the morning and then She wanted some fresh air and exercise this afternoon. Far be it from me to point out I don’t have to go with her! Another four miles I’ve had to do today – but I got my own back!! I pretended, Friends, that I hadn’t had any dinner this afternoon when really I had, and so was given a second bowlful. Quite right too.
Now look, you know how worried I was about Young Lad on his football trip to Madrid. There had been no contact or sightings in the Twatter photos, and I was not convinced, Friends, that Young Lad was actually there. However, worry no longer! In a later Twatter photo, there was Young Lad (well the back view of him) queuing up for lunch. Oh the relief. And then, of course, Young Lad came home last night and I was SO pleased to see him! My room-mate was back. I had missed him dreadfully and lay on his lap listening to his tales of Football tour. Largely this seemed to be about a bat flying round someone’s hotel room, and Year 11 breaking the lift by squashing too many people in it – this meant that Sir enforced a curfew which annoyed the Year 8s. Really it was fascinating listening to all this, and much talk of somewhere called the Bernabeu and someone called Gareth Bale. I was just nodding off to sleep when the conversation turned to the number of takeaway eateries that Young Lad had tried over the five days – and even by my standards this was impressive. Burger King, KFC, Subway…. a boy after my own heart, is Young Lad. Well done. Of course he has been moaned at and told he won’t be having any chips or Coke for the rest of his life.
Friends, there was an unexpectedly lovely evening here recently. Lad’s friends came round for the day, and stayed all evening to watch the football. This meant there were four large youths sprawled in the lounge – and we all know what large youths need, don’t we? Food. Loads and loads and loads of food. Oh there were snacks galore – Pringles, Dorritos, carrot sticks, grapes and dip (She making a pathetic attempt at making them eat something healthy), Dominoes pizza and chocolate. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed the evening with Lad and his friends – Gingercat curled up on someone’s lap and I positioned myself fairly centrally to collect any crumbs or offerings. What a super way to spend an evening, and I have made it clear that they are welcome any time.
Due to Young Lad’s exhaustion after five days of intensive physical movement in Madrid everyone slept in late this morning. What a pleasant change, I thought to myself as I returned to bed after the 6am comfort break. Gingercat and I then slept on for another good three hours. This is how it should be every day, frankly.
I nearly forgot to mention my little moment of triumph last night! Needless to say, a chocolate cake was baked to welcome Young Lad home – such is the pandering – and He rather ill-advisedly put His plate down whilst trying to switch BT telly on for the football. Now, you all know that one should never put down a plate with a piece of chocolate cake and it really was foolish – in one swift movement, like a graceful heron swooping on a fish I like to think, I was across the room and out the door with that cake before anyone could say bldydog. Dear Lord, I do love a wedge of chocolate cake.
Nobody bakes me a cake to say “welcome home” after a hectic day at daycare, you notice.
You would think that the lovely weather that we are experiencing might encourage someone out in the garden to do some much-needed weeding, chopping and tidying. Nobody has done any gardening, Friends, and so I took it on myself to improve the appearance of the outdoor area by ripping up an Alpen cereal box from the recycling sack and throwing it around. Then I went back to the recycling bag and pulled out a breadsticks box and did the same to that. The garden looks far more attractive now – really, it shouldn’t be left to me to do these things.
Lad got up at 11am today, Friends, and I felt very sorry for him indeed – poor Lad asked if he could have the ready -meal macaroni cheese that was in the fridge (dreadful processed rubbish) and was shouted at. Lad was told VERY firmly that 11am is NOT macaroni cheese time, it is late breakfast time and therefore toast or cereal should be consumed. Poor Lad had to wait another hour and twenty minutes until 12.20pm to have the macaroni cheese, as this was then officially lunchtime. What utter pedantic nonsense.
Well I wonder how many walks I will be forced on tomorrow, Readers. Honestly, I can barely move.
Bye for now,