Going Gently

Bitch Wars

Meg watching the air that I breathe photo taken at 7am

We have two bitches at home.
A seven year old neurotic Welsh terrier called Meg ( who weighs in at 9 kilos)
and five year old Mabel, the bulldog, who tips the scales just a shade less than 23 kilos
In a fight Meg has stamina, nervous energy in abundance, and sharp little teeth.
Mabel has bulk, a calculating brain and wide flat gums.
It's not a fair match

"Leave it leave it...she's not worth it!"

Me, being away for a mere 48 hours, threw Meg somewhat.
She cannot abide not being within spitting distance of me, so a separation, even a brief one, seemed to have sent her into a spiral of neediness and anxiety.
All it took was Mabel to saunter over to my arm chair for a kiss (it's a little habit we both have got into) and Meg flew at her! a fight that resembled a little like a one between a hysterical skinny rabbit and an elephant.

Out of the two of them, I felt for Mabel just a little bit more,as she in essence had done nothing wrong, and as Meg locked on to her throat all Mabel could do was throw Meg onto her back and grab her with a set of gums as big as a gin trap.

Bitch fights are very much like the ones you may see between drunken slags down Sheffield's Moor on a Friday night.... there is a great deal of noise, an occasional spurt of blood and a locking together of flailing legs, toilet parts and sagging nipples.
It's not a pretty sight.
Poor Chris.....I think he had experienced "animals" a little too much yesterday... this was indeed the final straw so to speak.
After the warring parties were separated
He went to bed early!

This morning, after a whole night of Meg lying a couple of inches from my face watching me sleep, she seemed reassured that I was not going anywhere again and looked her normal perky self, but hell hath no fury as a Bulldog scorned, and all throughout their morning walk, Mabel spent most of her time looking at Meg through angry little piggy eyes.
I could almost hear her thinking
"You stupid little twittering bitch!"
Bulldogs never forget............
Watch this space

The Rivers Of London

Now I have never been a fan of the Harry Potter kind of fantasy..its just does not float my boat so to speak, but I have enjoyed the Rivers Of London which is a sort of mongrel novel made up of part real life police murder investigation and part apprentice wizard adventure.
It sounds a terrible mismatch of genres doesn't it? but the humour and detail within the writing is so entertaining, the story by first time writer Ben Aaronovitch, is a real page turner....if you are a fan of either kind of novel I would recommend you give it go
I particularly enjoyed this quote when Aaronovich described a difficult Chief Inspector

...like many Northerners with issues he moved to London as a cheap alternative to psychotherapy".......

Anyhow Chris managed the animals perfectly well. He was attacked by both male turkeys last night (I have never gotten to the bottom of just why they don't like him) but no blood was spilt....and he sorted Albert's apparent Chlamydia eye infection out at the vets without incident
Mind you he looks shattered with all the responsibility of it all

London Highs

The Grand Staircase at St Pancras

I am presently sipping tea in an empty yet beautifully appointed house in Ealing!

Last night Nuala and I indulged in too much wine, not enough food (I had the belly pork which was lovely but oh so small a portion) and I must say a great deal of laughter.

It has been way, way too long since we caught up properly and it showed.

Nu on her last Welsh Visit

Her story of how she felt that she almost died white water rafting in Botswana had me sobbing with laughter (Much to the amusement of people sat next to us in the sun in Trafalgar Square...and the afternoon and evening pretty much carried on in a similar vein I must say.

We shared a bottle of wine in Covent Garden, took the guided tour of the new St Pancras Hotel which was delight and finished the night putting the world to rights over a lovely meal in the old booking Hall restaurant.

(where I remember buying tickets to get back to Sheffield!)

Now I don't want to sound all mushy here.... but the trip was just what I needed....lovely time!

Right....off to face the great London public on the tube

Have you got a clean hankie?

You wouldn't think I am almost 50. Chris has just given me a lecture on the perils of the " big city" And Nuala has just checked if I understand about tube tickets Do I look like a bloody country mouse so much nowadays? answers on a postcard please"..."

Cat's Eye

Animals always get sick at weekends...... thus is the rule of a pet version of sod's law
Our vet has an overly expensive "locum" system which means shit loads of wonga need to be handed over before any thermometer has been shoved up a furry arsehole.
Albert looks as though he has an eye infection, its either that or some strange strain of influenza. Suffice to say that he has been hiding away in the living room and on the bedroom window seat looking a little like Mike Tyson in the 13th round. He is still eating, ( a tin of sardines in tomato sauce this morning) and will have to wait until tomorrow's surgery to see his vet.
Chris is slightly miffed as for a change he will have to take Albert for his once over rather than me, for I will be off to London for a couple of days catch up with my best friend Nuala.
I was due to visit her in December, but my brother's funeral kind of got into the way, and with the gloominess of all that, the depressing nature of winter itself and acute best friend withdrawals....I am in dire need of the boost that only a best friend can give you.
So tomorrow, albeit briefly, we will march around arm in arm, chatting and laughing an chatting some more.It's been far too long.

.So Chris will be animal caring.... poor sweetie!
and tomorrow there will be a great deal of huffing and puffing going on in Trelawnyd I can tell you. The prospect of the vet trip has already been greeted with huge amounts of eye rolling and theatrical groaning.....
I am praying that Boris behaves too......March is when turkey testosterone is almost at its highest and I may need to remind you that Boris HATES Chris with a vengeance.
There may be some bloodshed by the time I return on Tuesday!
Watch this space.....

***********************************
Oh I have had to be weighed in today weight this morning 14 stone 7 lbs
Weight lost last week 2lbs
Total weight loss since January 1 stone 7 lbs

SUNRISE SUNSET

I have nothing really to say today
Enjoy this if you have a minute

We Bloggers are sad geeks

evidence as follows

Grey Hairs

In Trelawnyd I think both figures should be standing a little more upright

Before I lived in Wales, I think I viewed the "older person" with a certain disdain.
I know this sounds a little harsh, but I think it was a product of not really knowing many OAPs in my day to day Yorkshire life, save for the occasional exasperated wait behind a knackered old grey hair in the queue at the supermarket!
This morning I have moved 6 massive bags of sawdust from one part of the field to another, and nearly put my back out doing it. The RFWF* who delivered them to me is way past 70, and without any fuss or fanfare he was able to lob all six from a trailer and over a five bar gate as easily as I could lift a bag of shopping out of the berlingto.

Stan and wife Kit ( she of the famous homemade slippers!)

Every morning when out for a two and a half mile power walk with the dogs, I meet up with Stan (above) who come rain or come shine will be completing the same route. He's in his mid eighties.
Auntie Glad, at 92 ,will be off for her weekly shop in Rhyl on the bus today, and has more energy than the slumped teenage girl in the bus queue next to her would ever possess ...and Pat, my animal helper wouldn't hesitate to wrestle my next heavy piglet to the ground in order to administer some medication....

No, living in a village with a predominantly ageing population, has given me a healthy regard for the capabilities of people who previously I would have dismissed as being frail and invisible.

Interestingly I note that the Russian entry in this year's Eurovision Song Contest comprises of six old babushkas!