Dog hair and secrets are best shared

I think I speak for many when I write that one of the best things about coming out of lockdown is being able to actually see friends in the flesh. It’s very hard not to be able to give a bestie a great big hug but a chat over a carefully placed glass of wine or two has been a real soul-lifter. No matter how many online gossips you attend, there is nothing quite like a face to face catch up. The only downside is that the weather over the last couple of days has decided to rain on our parades but the parched roses were happy. To add to my uplifted mood, my eldest nephew flew in this week to spend a few days with us before he and his girlfriend start their new lives in Kent. Much as I have loved having Callum here, I think we both needed a fresh face over the dining table. The sudden appearance of new peeps has also affected the dogs, I hadn’t realised how bored they were seeing my face every day. Squeaks, yips, helicopter tails and Tigger bounces greeted each person who popped over to see them (obviously). I did feel a little awkward when Louis decided to introduce his young lady to his aunt who, minus a front tooth and wearing sweaty post-workout clothing, had to watch the poor girl get buried in happy dog hair.

In my excitement in being able to converse with actual humans, the little secret I had been harbouring since the beginning of the week became impossible to keep. Whilst I have never been good at zipping my mouth shut, the reason for the hush-hush was my superstitious self, I just couldn’t hold it. I have had another offer on the house and I have accepted it. It may not be as high as I had hoped but honestly, I don’t trust the housing market at the moment and I want to go home. And I’m not going to jump up and down until the contracts are signed and my bank account is bouncing. With everything that went south with the last ‘sale’, I’m keeping my feet firmly on the ground until then. I did however remember to go and pick up the dogs’ passports from the vet which I’m sure they appreciate.

Patience is a virtue, my nan always said and I’m trying to practise what she preached. I’m not going to touch any more boxes until I know we have an exit date. Then I can panic. Luckily the friend allowance from the Government has distracted me from worrying about what still needs to be done and as Louis is moving into a new flat, I am subtly brain washing him into taking various bits of furniture and kitchen utensils. He doesn’t seem overly keen on the wardrobes though, very old-fashioned apparently.

So the secret is out but I am keeping a level head. I hope. Thank God the dogs are more interested in who’s next through the garden gate and I am enjoying showing all the French house photos to the victims, much like showing off a prized child. And behind my back, fingers are definitely crossed…..

“Dogs are great. Bad dogs, if you can really call them that, are perhaps the greatest of them all.” (John Grogan)