Well, really, where did November go?
One minute I am watching my niece get married, on my birthday (the 1st of the month) and the next I am staring Christmas in the face.
The last few weeks have been a blur and it gets no better as December moves in.
The annual NaNoWriMo was barely attainable this year. Though I did manage to reach the target of 50,000 words – I do not feel a worthy winner since the first ten thousand had already been written. Still, as a personal goal, it was good. Next year I promise to give it my all.
Could this little chap have had anything to do with my erratic work schedule and relaxation? You bet!
Flossie and Charlie Brown are not often separated now. However, it has to be said, Flossie probably craves the odd peaceful moment. She has been off her food over the weekend so I think a trip to the Vet might be on the cards – see how forlorn she looks in this photo?
On a brighter note, we took both dogs to Fowey with us recently. It was the first time we had taken the dogs to our Cornish home and we were prepared for it to be a little – hectic.
We set out on a Thursday.
We got as far as Ringwood, a mere forty minutes down the road, when Dave’s car got a puncture.
As luck would have it, when we bumped down the slip road and into town, not knowing the area very well, we found we had pulled into an industrial estate where there was a Tyre fitting company. What were the chances?
The company was only too happy to help but could not get the correct tyres until the following morning.
Now, 40 minutes from home with two dogs and assorted luggage, what would you do? A hotel just did not seem to be an option with the dogs in tow. We unloaded the car and took a taxi home.
The photo says it all. (I had a bout of Shingles at the time so was not my normal, cheery self it has to be said).
Friday saw us taking a taxi back to the Tyre place to pick the car up. Loading it up again, we set off for the second time. The dogs behaved well in the car for the most part, though Flossie, resplendent in her new car harness, found it hard to really settle on the narrow (to her) seats. Charlie, on the other hand, snuggled down and took it all in his stride.
Four hours later, we were in Fowey.
We anticipated some problems since the house has no rear garden. (We do own a garden at the top of the cliff, but one takes one’s life in one’s hands to reach it and then it is only a postage stamp of overgrown, shrub land.) Charlie was happy to wander round the back yard (AKA path) but Flossie could barely turn round in it. She was finally allowed onto the front terrace where she could watch the passers by from on high as she squatted by the railings. It was certainly not ideal but it was a solution.
We thought we had got it sorted until we realised that in an earlier panic, Flossie had searched the house, vertically, for a place to relieve herself and had found our bedroom on the second floor.
At midnight, we were scrubbing the carpet. Alas, the stain, several hours old by now, has not completely come out, despite our best efforts, using all tips and tricks known to man. The next day, we purchased a fluffy rug. No one will ever know…
It was worth the inconvenience of traipsing to a carpet shop, just to find the salesman who was a dead ringer for Paul O’Grady, dry wit and all. Maybe it was him? Perhaps you should look out for me in a sketch in his next show…
The trip was a success all in all. We all enjoyed our walks on the beach and Charlie had his first swim. This was unintentional. The sand was there when he started running and gone when he tried to come back. Thankfully, he doggy paddled to safety. Flossie on the other hand, always the first to jump into pond or stream or muddy puddle, was strangely reticent when she saw the waves. She found a rock pool in which she splashed about, happiness written all over her face.
We plan a family holiday in the Cotswolds next year with all the children, grandchildren and three dogs. This was a test to see if our two could cope with the travelling and a new environment. I think they passed with flying colours.
Charlie Brown, though pretty good on the whole and, fingers crossed, house trained, has been delightful but exhausting in his first few weeks. He seems eager to learn and eager to please so we forgive him the odd spate of naughtiness of course.
The two dogs are great friends now – Flossie mothers Charlie and he plagues the life out of her in return. No sooner have they been in the garden than they come back in and romp around the living room. Puppies need frequent wee stops when they are playing like that so I am backwards and forwards to the kitchen door to let him in and out. I cannot grumble as my floors have been pretty safe for a couple of weeks now and a lot of the time the dogs are like this…
Oh and the doll’s house? Look at it now…(you must give artistic licence it’s due).
…and the real house…
Not bad, though I say it myself…