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, June 29, 2012
All 3 with Angel.
"Well, you pose how you like - my bottom is definitely my best feature!"
On his own, thinking really deep puppy thoughts.
"Do I really want to eat or pee?"
Girl and boy. Guess which one is the boy? That`s right, the one with the glazed expression. Having two sisters is hard on a lad.......
HERE WE COME...
Solitaire`s little ones are not so little now, and have discovered the great outdoors. I just wonder of the great outdoors is quite ready for them.....
Here they are at almost six weeks.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Angel, wondering if she is going to sink all the way in....
Doesn`t this look fun!
Benching and rings. Some exhibits may have sunk without trace...
Of course there was a Met Office amber warning out for the venue. But we were going anyway. One of the party decided against, and was teased about melting in the rain. How right he was!
We got in dry, and settled with coffee, watching the others arrive in the downpour that hit just as soon as we were in.
And it rained on and on. The judging was.....well, none too remarkable. Fidget, as usual, began to frizz round the edges in the damp. Angel, who couldn`t care less, was second in a class she should have won. And it got colder and colder. And the wind got up. I was really chilled, and shivering in deep shudders. I decided that I would wait in the car, where at least the wind and horizontal rain couldn`t reach. I got soaked to the bone just getting there. I sat in there shivering, as gusts rocked the car and the rain hammered down. My kind friend fetched the dogs - and with his usual great sense of occasion, Fidget had had diarrhoea. He received no sympathy at all.
The venue was by now flooded. The rings were under water. So was the car park, and towing out was underway. But we were on hard standing and had no trouble.
We headed home with the heating on full, steaming visibly. The malodorous Fidget was shoved well to the back. Gradually we dried off a bit. We did not know that behind us, the show had been abandoned, and the whole area was flooding, the West Coast rail line was cut off, and villages were being evacuated. We just knew we were dreadfully wet. I haven`t been so wet since my sailing days, years ago.
Home and straight to bed with a hot water bottle.....
Saturday, June 02, 2012
"Don`t you dare beam me up, Scotty!"
"I CANNAE WORK MIRACLES, CAPTAIN..."
Captain James T Kirk and I are having problems.
The problems are entirely due to Truly. No surprise there, then.
Now I do collect Hostas. I grow them in containers (against slugs) in the shade of the house, and some do well, and some don`t. Often you have no idea why.
Hostas, which are happy, no-nonsense plants with large colourful leaves, do tend to have unusual names - "Bette Davis` Eyes" springs to mind.
In this case, the problem plant is called "Captain James T Kirk", and the Captain is guilty of producing small, stunted growth.
The Captain`s problem is that Truly is sitting on him. Regularly. Indeed, he is her seat of choice. He makes a really good vantage point for a little person. And constant pressure, even from a small Swedish bum, is doing him no good at all. (Klingons have nothing on our Truly when it comes to causing mayhem.)
He could always ask Scotty to beam her up.
Or just be thankful he is not the plant two containers along, "Fire and Ice", which is also having growth problems.....
Fidget is regularly climbing up to pee on that one.