The Clock

I initiated one of those elephant in the room conversations today
They are never easy ones to give or to hear.
I asked if my husband could start to think about items he wants to take from our home.
Items of personal importance .
I don't want ambiguity and spats over shared and loved things further down the line.

However I had to be honest when I told him I wanted to keep our grandfather clock.
It's a magnificent locally made Welsh clock from the mid 19th century

He had bought it , but my sister and I had bid on it in a local auction sale many moons ago now and it was , as I recall an exhilarating and stressful twenty minutes out of our lives
The clock had be owned by my best friends' parents for many years and by their family for generations . It was sold when their dear parents had passed away, people who I cared for deeply.
It stood by their front door and I knew and loved it well when I was growing up.

The clock will stay with me.
And....It's a comfort.

S

Runs

Three of the dogs have diarrhoea
Stupidly I used a non known batch of tinned food last night  as I had run out of their usual
I have just returned from a four hour mentoring stint and now realise that Albert has let them in from the kitchen to have the total run of the cottage .
"Runs in the cottage" more like.
And to make things worse the postman has been.
The dogs love galloping around like fools when the post comes!

Mage the badge

http://urban-archology.blogspot.com/

Thank you for your kind gift!
I'll never lose my keys ever again! 

Dirty Bastard

When I was in primary school there were a group of kids who lived in the grottiest house on the council estate.
By anyone's standards they were " loppy"
And were referred to somewhat cruelly as The Stinkbombs
Nowadays the kids would be seen for what they were....deprived and abused children .

I got to thinking about the stinkbombs after emptying the dyson today.
Every day I Hoover the cottage and every day this is what is retrieved from the carpets
Smelly filthy crap!

Every day! 
In a week I could probably fill a large scatter cushion with the detritus collected from animals, humans and a sooty wood burner.
In a month I could fill an average mattress

I can't believe I've just posted a blog about the contents of my vacuum !

A Big Hunk Of Spunk

I went to see Mission Impossible Fallout this evening,
It's really no different from any of the previous five or is it 6 in the series, except the chases are longer, the fights bigger, and the IMF team is now pared down to Tom Cruise, Ving Rimes and a gaunt Simon Pegg.
Don't bother understanding the story, its a usual romp against a nutter wanting to take over the world a fact complicated by infighting by CIA, FBI  and MI6, a blond femme fatale with a flick knife and the obligatory black American intelligence woman looking tough in a power suit (Angela Bassett)
Its shite, but it is terribly polished and entertaining shite which is marvellous fun.
Rebecca Ferguson turns up again as a British agent who can break a neck with her thighs ( a nice move as she is an accomplished actress who brigs a heart and believe it or not some warmth to the movie.)
There's the usual gadgets, prosthetic masks and bells and whistles to please everyone
But for me it was the six footer muscle mary Henry Cavill who steals the film with his turn as a double agent baddie assassin
he's one massive hunk of spunk!

Glorious Rain

It remains warm but is gloriously wet  this morning
And in shorts and t shirt I took the dogs out in pairs so I could get drenched in the rain
The parched grass, gardens and trees looked as though they were taking a collective gulp as it came down  under a grey sky

Disappointment

I'm doing ok
Not great Not brilliant but ok.
Over the last couple of months I have found out I have a lot of good friends and a good family
I have been of the receiving end of thoughtful thoughts and touching gifts
I have received cards and postcards, strange gifts of food and jam and even an anonymous bunch of flowers.
and people who I would have never have expected have stopped to say something when driving by would have been easier...... it is that small effort of saying "are you ok?" that has helped.... it really has
I have also been dreadfully disappointed by a handful of people I care for   and that I expected better from.
I guess that's common when people think that they have to take sides or they know not what to say.😟

A dear friend of mine said something similar to me recently. He  felt let down by a close friend of his who seemed crass and insensitive when dealing with my friend's serious illness.
My friend recognised the fact that serious illness can paralyse some people into inactivity, but the hurt was real and understandable.
unfortunately , for many reasons some friends cannot say what needs to be heard he said......and I agree with him many can't  BUT THEY BLOODY SHOULD

I have some advice for those that feel, for whatever reason, that they cannot say something supportive to people like me or like my friend.....people going through a shitty time
make the effort and say something, email something, message something
You don't have to take sides , you don't have to provide a counselling service , you don't have to lend a supporting ear daily until your ears bleed.....no
you just have be nice and ask
"are you ok?"

Set Up

Albert is being bullied by a new cat on the block
It's a tortoiseshell mix with a whole lotta attitude.
I know it's got attitude because it squared up to Mary when we were out walking around the Churchyard ( yes I walk the dogs there daily as a protest to the uniform ban ) and a cat that will hold its ground against a dog of any size has balls.
Although Albert is a hunter, he is no fighter. His deformed back leg makes him slower and slightly ungainly at times and so when faced with a more determined assailant he usually decides that retreat is the order of the day and makes a bolt for the cat flap home.
This morning the fight with the tortoiseshell  took a tern in Albert's favour.
After the dogs morning wee stop, Winnie, William and Mary went back up to bed as per usual. George disappeared into his bed underneath the kitchen table and leaving the back door open , I went to read the news on the toilet.
I'd only got to a juicy tidbit about Anthony Hopkins stating he should have been a Welsh drunk, when I heard Albert frantically bouncing up the stairs followed by a deafening howl from George which was followed by some very angry barking, a few bangs in the kitchen and the scrabbling of clawed feet on the coalbunker's wooden cover.
With my pants round my ankles I looked out of the window just in time to see the tortoishell streaking over next door's lawn as the rest of the dogs thundered down the stairs to join in with the chaos.
The tortoishell had seen his opportunity in finally cornering Albert and had chased him through the open door into the kitchen.
He hadn't banked on George lying quietly in his bed.
Now George is a typical Scottish Terrier. He has a big mouth and a stout heart and a strange cat, no matter how tough and streetwise is no match for him. And so , like old lions have to do sometime,  George at twelve roared and roared his head off.
The tortoiseshell shat itself and after bouncing around the kitchen for a bit, legged it through the kitchen door and up over the coal bunker with George in close pursuit .

Albert rubbed my scabby knees with his head as the barking increased to fever pitch downstairs
Like nothing had happened