Thank you all so much for your lovely words on my last post, they were moving, kind and very much appreciated. I have gone back to read them several times. Thank you.
Life is galloping on towards Christmas here of course. The littlest boy finished school on Tuesday. He had to do two more days than the big boys, which did not go down well. I have been typing furiously on my laptop whenever there's a peaceful moment, finishing off stuff as soon as possible. The biggest boy asked me if I was still working on my website. Did I tell you about that? I think I did. I deleted it, with the thought that it would be quick and easy to re-do with a website building package I have. Turned out, not so much.
Anyway, he helped a little, then I
Biggest boy: Are you still working on your website?
Me: Yes, I am. Well. You know. I will be.
Biggest boy: If you bought yourself a new laptop I could have your old one and I could do your website for you.
Subtle no? I declined his kind offer.
When I'm not doing writing things on the laptop, I'm dog walking (or hoovering up the leaves that attach themselves to the dog during said dog walks). On the dog walking circuit there are rumours of local dog poisoning. All very third hand. I don't know what to do with them. Do I mention them to other dog walkers, thereby spreading what could be a ridiculous made-up thing, or do I not mention them and leave people in ignorance of possible trouble? First I heard that a dog had been sick. Then I heard that three dogs were dead. In a park just spitting distance from where we walk. It's troubling stuff. But no hard evidence and nothing in the local news.
Nothing either on the grapevine at puppy training. Last Saturday was the Christmas party. Oh yes it was. A dozen dogs, some in fancy dress, in high excitement, doing all of their training things. A fat little French bulldog, all rolls of chubbiness, was dressed as a Christmas pudding. If ever a dog was born to be dressed as a Christmas pudding, it was him. We took food and the littlest boy made it his mission to eat it all.
When we arrived, someone had left a tray of the most beautiful little smoked salmon pinwheel sandwiches on the edge of the table. Perfect, dainty curls of salmon and cream cheese. Bertie made a lunge for them.
Me to biggest boy: Watch the dog, he nearly got the sandwiches!
Biggest boy, looking in derision at the tiny, exquisite daintiness: Those are not sandwiches.
Between them the three of them made a good dent in the buffet. They never let me down.
The fridge is stuffed with food right now. I fear I may have shopped too soon. As it happens however, there is no room left either in there or in the freezer for any kind of beast ready for roasting. I am wondering if I can get away with nut roast all round on the big day.
The younger two have some sort of virus at the moment involving a temperature, headaches and very pale faces with dark rings under their eyes. I have told them that if I catch it I shall take to the sofa with a hot water bottle and they will have to spend Christmas Day preparing me an assortment of tempting snacks. Be careful what you wish for.
Wishing all a peaceful solstice, with light and warmth and contentment. CJ xx