NOR YET A DROP TO DRINK
Fidget gives an enthusiastic rendition of "Scots...
SCOTS WHA HAE
Fidget - "Not another bath!"
IN THE WASH
But I won`t actually be there....Fidget and I ha...
THE BIG EVENT
Ella triumphant - "Did you think some silly infec...
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Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"
Friday, May 27, 2011
We had an enormous storm, very unusual at this time of year. Huge winds battered trees in full leaf and the result was that a large number of them fell, and a greater number lost branches. The windswept roads were carpeted with fallen branches.
Here the wind roared in the trees, and flung them about, and the rain lashed down and it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened and the power went out. A great search for candles and the emergency lamp, and there followed a miserable night of listening to the house being battered by the storm by candleight, and going to bed early.
In the morning it was still windy, with no power. I had to get out and check for damage - amazingly none. The dogs, who had reacted to the storm by curling up very tightly with tails wrapped round noses, had a look outside and rushed in to resume the position.
By afternoon the sound of chainsaws was echoing across the valley and I realised that the problem was being addressed. Shortly after, we had light and I could at last have a hot drink and hot food.
And then the water numpties returned. A new set. Their leader examined the previous attempt, and discovered what no-one had seen fit to tell them - that when Old Peter had been forciby "metered", he had been furious and sworn to find a way round it. There was a maze of illicit piping, all of it bypassing the meter. The previous "repair" had been an attempt to turn off one of those. This time they turned off the real main branch - and at once my pressure returned to normal, soaking me as I peered at the outside tap watching the trickle which suddenly became a torrent.
And so more or less back to normal. The police called, admired my vandal paint and barbed wire, and approved the fact that now I can hose the little buggers again. No, they didn`t offer any further help.
And Solitaire and Velvet and Ella are in season. Solitaire, little does she know it, is bound for another romantic assignation.
And of course Ella has again taken to her bed with "women`s troubles".
I suppose it should properly be called "Ella`s boudoir"