Skip to main content

The leader of the pack...

Words from a Bird.  Day 74

Well I am back, having wrestled the keyboard off Percy, who was in the process of typing a 'Room to Let' poster.  To be honest, there are a few other people whose rooms will be let before his.....kids, I'll let you work out for yourself which one of you would go first.

So the day has been filled with visitors, none of them have come to see the husband and me of course.  Our guests push past us, their eyes levelled at about 7 inches off the floor.  Everyone wants a cuddle of the mini fuzzball, who is quite happy to oblige, giving it his best puppy dog eyes. 

Percy is being very patient with the new addition.  A couple of left hooks have persuaded Reg that hanging off Percy's crown jewels is not the best way to make friends.  Of course, Percy has this technique down to a fine art, and has found it quite successful on a couple of occasions when making new male friends of dubious character. 

All of the children, bar one, have been here today,  They all come here for different reasons. 

Daughter number 1 came for a roast dinner (and the puppy). 

Son number 1 came for washing, ironing, jumper mending and a roast dinner (and the puppy). 

Son number 2 who, although residing at this address, spends half his time at his BFF's house, tipped up for a roast dinner (and the puppy).  He also brought the BFF over for a roast dinner (and the puppy). 

Daughter number 2 turns up tomorrow.  She's not daft.  As the only one here tomorrow afternoon, she'll have Reg all to herself, so no cuddle sharing necessary.  She'll also have to do the clearing up after dinner on her own so it's not all good...

Things are definitely starting to calm down though.  The husband has even started talking about getting another puppy or two.

I am not sure whether he is being serious, but I have squirrelled away Percy's 'Room to Let' poster. 

You never know....

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Say goodbye...

Here's a question for you.  Why is it that when we are dieting, we say that we have 'lost weight'.  To me this implies that at some time in the not so distant future, we're going to find it again.  I like to imagine a 28lb blob of yellow fat in a three piece suit, winking lasciviously at me and saying, 'Oi skinny.  I've missed you.  Fancy letting me ride shotgun around those hips again?'
So instead of 'losing weight' I am getting rid of it.  Throwing it away.  Killing it.   Banishing it, never to be seen again.  Previous experience tells me that I will probably have old Blobby hanging back around my middle in a couple of years, once I've tired of leaves and crispbreads, but I am trying to do things slightly different this time.  Slowing down the stampeding rate I eat (I blame hurried school lunches for this), speeding up the walking, and being more aware of what I am doing and why I am doing it.
Someone once told me that if I ever felt like pickin…

Cold wind blows...

I don't know how cold it is with you at the moment, but I spent yesterday morning snapping the two furballs off various trees and posts as we attempted a walk before I went to work.  I had made the schoolgirl error of asking myself, 'Just how cold can it be?' before putting one extra sweater on beneath my walking coat.  I also had my Olga from the Volga fur hat, a scarf and gloves (to be fair, I've been wearing all of these since the middle of October).  Unfortunately, what I hadn't taken into consideration was the above the knee dress I was wearing to work yesterday.  I imagined that the extra warmth up top would somehow work its way to my knees.  
I was wrong.
Getting back indoors after forty five minutes of combat with The Beast from the East, I looked down at my legs.  Even with the black 100 denier tights I was wearing, I could see that my legs had taken on a slightly different hue to normal.  They were looking like two red pillar boxes, and it took ten minutes …

A man could go quite mad...

I have started to realise that there are many things about me which drive the husband mad.  When you first get together, those small faults are cute and a little bit quirky.  However, fast forward a couple of decades and they become a fairly acceptable excuse for manslaughter.  
I started thinking about this after the contretemps with the cutlery drawer a couple of weeks ago.  If you remember, the husband informed that that I was messing with his feng shui by putting the boiled egg spoons in with the dessert forks.  He only seemed to notice that I did this after I bought a new cutlery tray for the drawer, so I'm blaming Groupon for grassing me up.
The other thing is my snoring.  When we first met, this was described as 'endearing', and he told me that as he lay next to me at night, he used to smile to himself and listen to me.  This swiftly moved on to comparisons with a nasally challenged warthog, and more recently to a Boeing 747 with a noisy exhaust.  I'm considerate …