There has been such a lot happening I don’t know where to start. Visitors for dinner, trip away, small children, a pair of cats, settee bans and cold weather, Him Indoors feeling sorry for himself because he’s trying to fight a bit of a cold. Where to start I wonder.
We did have a rather splendid weekend away at friends down in the South. Up here in the Midlands we sometimes fail to understand that “The South” is actually a different country. It is supposed to be part of England but in reality it isn’t. Everything happens at high speed, roads are twice as busy, queues exist to get anywhere, it really is a different place. The price of stuff is like twice as much as in dear old Bewdley. But even worse than here, everybody just everybody walks about looking down and tapping their telephone. I have to jump about all the time to avoid being kicked, let me tell you!
Our weekend began with a visit to the nation’s “Brexit besieged” Prime Minister’s constituency. It was was lightened by a little girl. She simply wanted to play with me all the time. It was fabulous, although I disgraced myself apparently by my sliding on her kitchen floor like I do at home. It scratched! Whoops-a-daisy!! Not good!
Actually I was exhausted both evenings, but young Katherine delighted me with her voracious enthusiasm to play,play,play. If The Boss understood this was the way-to-go life would be even better.
We moved on down into Wiltshire. It was here I encountered – TWO cats! I’m used to cats, I grew up with a cat, I chase cats in my courtyard. But one of these gave me the evil eye – all the time. She never let up looking at me. It was quite troubling, although being almost human I coped in my normal manner by completely ignoring her and appearing very superior. Not sure it worked in truth but we survived together.
Talking of surviving, The Boss also played to the gallery. How? By tediously supporting his friends and not allowing me my usual spot on the settee next to him. Why everybody else’s settee is sacred ground and our’s isn’t I do not know. But they apparently are and I had a weekend of being a lowlife on the floor. Hummphh!
We’ve had a couple of sets of visitors for dinner over since I last wrote. They were good to me, plenty of fish skins and certainly a good smattering of cheese came my way. I realize it’s not good for me but it is all so nice, and a great change from dog food. I really don’t understand why an almost human creature like me has to suffer dog food. What IS that all about?
Our football team is entertaining us again (I still get confused when The Boss shouts at television, often very bad words as well) although I did gather our key player (“brainless” – I quote) trod on somebody last weekend. As a result he is missing some big game coming up against a team called The Bitters. I remember Him Indoors always laughing about them but it seems they’ve become quite good and have some bloke managing them who is called Pepsi?
He’s been a bit grumpy for a couple of days, probably because he hasn’t had much red wine and as a result he has become addicted to honey and lemon. The kettle has never been boiled so much! Then he whacks down his throat some new tablets – not the normal collection he takes every day – then sits (or lays) on the settee and says “not good Dylan, not good”. Anybody give me any clues?
This, unfortunately, provides him the opportunity to watch the news and politics. His hysterical laughter engendered by the Brexit thing (I cannot put into print his vitriol at Mr Davis & co, I really cannot, as he uses words much worse than he uses about the football) was actually overtaken today when there was a section on Daily Politics showing extracts of Mr McDonnell’s recent interviews. “How much” the old boy kept shouting, “how much will it all cost”. Eventually, with a sigh, he gave up when Mr McD said “ nothing, it will all balance out”. Like it did in Venezuela he shouted, and pressed off so that we had some Bob Dylan to sooth his furrowed brow.
Woof! Woof!
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