Skip to main content

The only way is up...

Words from a Bird.  Day 70

So the countdown has started till Reg arrives.  We have two days left of relative sanity. 

There are signs of the approaching mayhem. A new dog bed has appeared in the kitchen, and the tiniest red collar in the world is waiting on the kitchen worktop.  There is puppy food and treats, and squeaky toys and balls. All the things a new puppy would want.

Couple this with my slight (ha!) OCD, and now let's look at what is really going on in the house.  Well for a start, anything chewable has been removed from the lower shelves, carefully hidden away from little teeth. This doesn't sit too well with me as you can imagine.  I mean, who wants to see a giant red cherry on the same shelf as a miniature turquoise stem vase.  It's like a bloody Bring and Buy sale in my kitchen as it has lots of higher storage, so things are just stacked anywhere with no aesthetic consideration.

The stair gate has been reinstated in the kitchen.  I can guarantee that the husband will fall through this at least three times over the coming weeks.  I will mainly swear at it, as I'll be trying to open the damn thing while carrying either a basket of dirty washing, or ironing (depending on my direction of travel at the time).

I do remember losing two rugs to Percy's gnashers in the early days, so the lounge will remain out of bounds until I forget to close that stair gate for the first time.

The lawn has been mowed.  Reg is so short that we could easily have lost him in the back garden.  I'm not saying the grass is long, but I am sure I saw a couple of gazelles grazing by the bird bath last week...  While we were scything the grass, (the husband bears a striking resemblance to Poldark whilst scything as you can imagine) we also picked up anything that Reg might find interesting.  As this is the first time in the garden since the heady days of summer, these items have included several beer bottle tops, a bottle of sun cream (ever the optimist) one flip flop and three slightly damp chair cushions which didn't quite make it into the storage box.

Percy knows something is going on.  I see his eyes narrow every time something interesting comes into the house.  Something which invariably he can't have as 'it's not for him'. 

I just hope that we don't come down on Sunday morning to find Percy sitting at the front door with his suitcase...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…