Lie In

Our beach hut is around the 8th from the left! 

Broardstairs is picture postcard pretty!
We opened up the beach hut for a few hours yesterday afternoon and watched the shenanigans of seaside life which included a very inebriated Network Rail worker sharing school boy homophobic jokes with our neighbours!
I couldn't take too much umbrage with him as he seemed like a genuiningly nice bloke

Today , I think I shall sleep on the beach.
I was hoping for a lie in, what with no little ( and big) dog babies demanding walks and such like but the low level yap-yap-yap  of a neighbours dog combined with a different bed and the hysterical screeching of the herring gulls around 5am all conspired against restful slumber.

I have eyes like piss holes in snow this morning!

But, the sun is out.
The sky is blue,
My coffee is strong
And I'm writing to you!

Hey ho!

Poor Blogger

I've been a poor specimen of a blogger over the last few days.
Not replying to my comments seem send some fellow writers into a state of near hysterical apoplexy, such is the transgression from blogging etiquette.
But we are on holiday for a week, so I shall endeavour to catch up with things on an ad hoc basic as the Prof and I enjoy the Kent coast.
So, what happens to the animals when we are away I hear you ask?
Well we have a cottage sitter who looks after the house with animal helper Pat overseeing Albert care. Sailor John and Village elder Islwyn are sharing field duties with teenage boffin Cameron acting as back up and very shortly I shall be taking Mary and William to their Kennels .
Yesterday George, in his usual jaunty way, bounced into my sister's house for his week of pampering and the fat diva, after my facebook plea for a local homely bed and breakfast has settled down quite nicely thank you very much in the home of a work friend .
This was her facebook photo from last night

How loyalties can shift once the man of the house is cooking roast beef!

Sunday

George and The Prof are sunbathing on the lawn. winnie is cooling her nipples on the cold concrete of the path and Mary is tied to the metal chair by the front door to keep her out of trouble.
William has retired to the cool cttage interior and is curled up on the easy chair.
Albert is over in the churchyard stalking rabbits
And I am watching it all as theChurch bell sounds off to herald afternoon sevice

What are you doing this Sunday afternoon

Bugger

Sometimes you look and feel like this 

When all you want to be , is ....this

A Small Tits Up

Small things conspire against you sometimes
I'm working all day  tomorrow and don't want to
The Prof and I have just had a row over a miscommunication
Mary has been stung by a wasp whist playing with the neighbour's dog and is now acting all useless . (She is presently lying fallorn with George under the kitchen table)
But lets look on the bright side
Weaver seems to be improving ( good on yer girl)
We are on holiday to Broadstairs very soon! ( with our own beach hut! )
And The Walking Dead returns in Oct...
Things could be worse

Speak on Sunday

Filth even

For a few days now, I have noticed that the butter in the butter dish has had a strange , slightly ridged surface.
I wondered if it was a new kind of wrapper that had caused it
WRONG!
After making the Prof's marmite on toast this morning, I came back into the kitchen to prepare my own breakfast.
Only to see
Albert licking the butter pat, with his eyes closed.

Poundland/ lodge Moor

I went to the poundland store today which is unfortunately full of the great unwashed.
But it was a fruitful visit as for only four whole pound coins
I bought a washing up bowl, cleaning wipes for the car, a set of sports earphones ( so I Can listen to music when out for my power walks) and a cd of Cher's love Hurts album.

I have not heard this track for an absolute age, but it brought back some wonderful memories
It's Fires Of Eden and although this is the one and only YouTube version available, it will do as it reminds me of singing along to it after too many beers with some nursing friends and a group of rehabing spinal injury patients all in their wheelchairs in the bar of the Three Merry Lads, which was located by the gates of Lodge Moor Hospital.
Two sets of young people 
Therapists and patients 
All sharing a good time


I sang along with the cd at the top of my voice on the way home
Like I said HAPPY DAYS

Dull Thursday

A summer's day in Wales.
Grey and cold and wet. We stopped at the Church gate to listen to the funeral hymn being sung.
There is nothing more melancholy than a Welsh funeral on a wet day.
I didn't know the chap who was being buried. He lived out of the village and cared for a wife with severe dementia. She, I was reliably informed afterwards, had the presence of  mind to ring for an ambulance after he had collapsed. Unfortunately she wasn't well enough to attend the service.
We then went to the Affable despot's house to feed their fish and  family gecko as they are away. I tied the dogs to the gate, fed the fish in their kitchen tank and then went to water the gecko ( who seems to be the most useless animal on earth as it neither seems to move or react ) as I was giving him a quick squirt with the moisturiser gun I heard a sudden bang from the bedroom above, then another and another and thinking I had suddenly disturbed an intruder I went to the bottom of the stairs and called out a fairly ineffectual and girly " hello? " up into the darkness .
A moment later Winnie suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, she was smiling broadly. Obviously she had slipped her lead and had been enjoying herself greatly exploring a new home.

It took me an age to sponge down the fat paw prints from the carpet.