Harvey the Wonderdog

I had a dream last night.

CK and I were walking across the grassy field next to our highrise apartment block (a field which was patently my school oval - bear with me this is a dream) and my beautiful OMD was out there too, happily gnawing a bone.

Then we were up high, looking out the window from our flat and I could see him out on the grass with the bone. When I looked again he was gone.

I woke up and leant over CK to the far side of the bed to check the spot where my OMD has slept for many years. I stopped half way.

It has been a month now and even my dreams have a Harvey-shaped hole into which I keep stumbling.

Street Party Review

Lovely day. Sun came out occasionally. Loads of lovely new people met. Dogs happily running around scarfing dropped food. Son played football. Daughter coloured in chalk bunting decorating the pavements.

Played boules. Had a go an Alpine horn, sadly seem to have lost my embouchure but hit a few notes. Drenched after waterballoon-tossing competition went badly awry. Broke my son, not a good plan to burst a waterbomb down the neck of a sobbing child. Especially not when you caused the pain-based sobs in the first place.

Shared food with friends. ''Bobby on the beat" biscuits seemingly a success. Bought raffle tickets. Didn't win a single prize. Didn't win the cake competition either.

Had a great afternoon and plans are already afoot for the Jubilee in 2012.

Look at me Mama!

I'm crafting!!!


(pics to follow)

The Oncoming Storm

Easter Saturday tomorrow and the clouds come rolling in.

My bastard b-i-l is coming to stay for a couple of nights.

Some of us may have reacted with poor grace to this news.

**Wanted ** New friends

I have decided I need to get me some new friends.

I mean 'real' friends.

Not you guys. You are my fabulous and wonderful imaginary friends and my life would be way sadder and lonlier and filled with a hell of a lot less laughter had I never found you all.

No I mean those tricksy to track down, real life versions of y'all. Anyone have any clues or suggestions on where or how I might go about finding them.

I live in the middle of nowhere, don't drive a Range Rover, have no real interest in rugby, my hair is neither dyed blonde nor blowdried and haven't worn a size 10 since the age of 18. Conversely I don't do drugs, drink scrumpy, live in an old bus/van or have a love of patchouli or tie-dye. This automatically excludes me from the majority of women with whom I come into contact.

**sigh** Maybe I should post a personals ad? **sigh*

We're going on a bag hunt

We're hoping to catch a BIG one.

I'm not scared.

What a beautiful day.

We can't go over it.

We can't go under it.

We'll have to social media it!

**blog,blog, twitter, facebook, twitter,blog, facebook, twitter, twitter**

Local traffic issues

Traffic is awful around here in the holidays.

Ever wondered what living in a cloud is like?

It is damp

and grey

with limited visibility.

Dear Sunshine, two days wasn't enough. Please come back soon. Love, trash

Presumption

I have just said 'No' to a friend who always expects me to say 'Yes'. This feels good.

The bastard found a frisbee shop.

The day has drawn nearer so much more quickly than I thought.

In the space of four hours this morning he had three quite heavy-duty fits. I knew things weren't going to be good.

Today has been spent sitting with him and gently stroking him, marvelling at how puppy-soft that small patch behind each ear remained while the rest of him has got old.

I lay next to him keeping him calm and warm until CK could get home from work. As always his discomfort and general unhappiness with the universe (congenital and not age-related, the grumpy old bugger) were alleviated when CK walked through the door.

Whatever blood the nice lady vet took from him was obviously the magic stuff as he slowly started to decline rapidly from Thursday morning. It was with much sadness that we made the most godawful decision of my life, his life, our lives.

So having regularly beaten seven bells out of The Grim Reaper since Christmas 2008 my beautiful OMD has finally conceded defeat. That tall skinny bastard better hold up his end of the bargain and turn up with the best frisbee ever.

If you could spare a second to think a happy thought for my gorgeous boy around 0930 BST Saturday (1930EST) I would appreciate it.