All That We Share

I was surfing youtube as I was soaking George's klingons off under the kitchen sink's mixer tap this morning. 

I can't remember if I used the sponge pan scourer or not! 

But I digress! 

This video from Denmark Tv came up on my you may like this  section . I stopped short with the nail sissors to watch it.

It's rather beautiful

I sent it to Donald Trump 

I do hope he watched it

Guilt

We have had emotions today....have we not?
Grief ( post 1)
Horror ( post 2)
And now post 3 = guilt

The Prof is at some posh meal in London
And on the way home after Sams this evening
I bought and devoured a scotch egg almost without chewing!

Be still my fucking beating heart!!!!!!

Butter

My first post of the day has depressed me

So I will leave you with this surprised shot of

just why does our butter have a strange mottled effect on its surface

Hey ho

Grief Has A Face

I bumped into a colleague yesterday. I saw her while she was out shopping.
She looked as she felt.
Grief stricken.
The word sadness cannot suitably explain someone experiencing grief. I think there is a hollowness about the emotion that shows on the face, an empty faraway look who some can describe  as being haunted or empty. Whatever it is, I saw it on my friend's face yesterday and was moved terribly by it.
She cried as soon as I looked at her .
A sympathetic look is sometimes the worst thing you can offer up when someone is hanging on to their emotions with their fingernails but you have to offer it, ignoring  the " elephant in the room" is worse.

Bad Behaviour!

William nipped the postman today as he put his fingers through the letterbox.
I only knew this as I heard his swearing as he marched back to his van.
He's usually so much more deft in his movements about the dogs
I shouted a robust " SORRY! " from out of the bedroom window where I had been shaking the cat hairs from off the duvet.
He half waved his thanks.
When I got downstairs William was doing an excited lap of honour around the living room!
Bating the postman is the nearest thing the old boy has to a devious side.

We all need to act in a naughty manner sometimes don't you think?
Unleashing the devil inside, underlines that rules can be broken, and that ( literally in William's case) that there is life in the old dog yet! 

William, victorious with the taste of the postman in his mouth

Making A Scene

I know most of us don't embark on what can be helpfully described as " Making A Scene " on a regular basis but, I am sure, we have all had our moments when the wind was in the right direction and nerves may have been pushed way past " twanging point" so to speak!
Flare ups, especially if they occur in a rather nice restaurant, can be satisfyingly entertaining, especially if you are the observer and not the participant !

Last night, The Prof and I enjoyed a very nice meal in a rather expensive eating house. It was as trendy as it was slick and as a particularly well dressed woman sashayed past our table, the whole place reminded me of a rather nice restaurant in Amsterdam where I was dreadfully humiliated by a previous boyfriend. Now this was many, many moons ago now, but I do remember that the restaurant suddenly went very quiet after my dinner companion hissed a rather aggressive rebuke at me over the perfect table settings and I sat there with my head bowed, red faced and seemingly helpless.

But I wasn't helpless. For slowly I put my napkin down and very deliberately stood up and walked out of the restaurant. I was so slow that the maitre d' had just enough time to pick my coat up and pass it to me as I passed ( a classy moment which made up for my blushes)
It wasn't the end of that relationship, but it was one of just the few reasons it did end!
Thank God!

Have you ever had a scene in a restaurant ?
I'd be interested to know.

Opera Grill

We went out for a posh supper in Chester tonight

Wales needs to catch up me thinks

Banana profiteroles and cameral sauce ! 

Who needs scotch eggs x

A Parenting Moment- Without A Child

Quintin with the nameless architect 

Friday night tv watching is enhanced by a regular " buddy" documentary where the actress Caroline Quentin and some faceless architect visit some amazing houses across the globe.
I love this programme.
I love voyeuristically exploring other peoples' spaces ( ohhh errr)- for sure but I also adore Quentin  who just bursts with mischievous good humour and warmth!
It's a great watch.
We had just been introduced to a subterranean dwelling in rural New Zealand when William, who had been soundly asleep in the armchair next to me started to gag and thrash in his sleep.
He does this sometimes, it's something to do with a narrowing of his airways, and there is nothing to be done except making sure he's placed in a position where breathing is made easier.
It's a bit like positioning an epileptic during a fit.
Winnie, from her bed next to the fire, got up and with the worried face, only a bulldog could pull,  hurried over to sniff William carefully as I rubbed his back and he fell back to sleep like a puppy in his mother's care.
Winnie then took a long look at William , then turned to me carefully, watching my reaction with all of the seriousness of a toddler.
" It's all fine" I told her and I kissed her forehead gently saying
" Go back to sleep!" 
She sniffed loudly, processing the information I gave her and then heaved herself back to her previous position next to the fire where she lay down watching William anxiously
She only closed her eyes again when I nodded that things were then ok

A little family moment for sure........and not a child in sight...