Last week should be named the ‘week of the lurgies’. I got a stinking cold and a poorly Coco diagnosis revealed bladder stones. On the plus side, Coco can’t feel anything from the waist down so basked in all the attention he got at the vets – I doubt they get many dogs who don’t mind their private parts being poked about and x-rayed. I, on the other hand, stood there rubbing his chest, trying not to wince as probes were shoved in his ‘ahem’ and all the while managing to keep the sneezes at bay. The vets must have thought my facial expressions were that of a highly emotional owner rather than one battling with a runny nose in a mask.
The French translation for “I have a cold” is “j’ai un rhume” which sounds like something out of an Inspector Clouseau sketch (for those who remember the Pink Panther films) especially when said through a bunged up nose. Such words are enough to keep anyone from coming within two metres of you in case you are spreading something much worse. It doesn’t however stop them from giving their expert opinions on how to treat such lurgies; Denis insisted that I eat my bodyweight in pomegranate seeds (we have a tree in the garden) and Nathalie, my lady what does, suggested getting pole-axed on whisky and honey. Luckily I found an ancient packet of Lemsip in the bottom of my medicine drawer and the sniffles have run their course. Straight up Callum’s nose instead.
Despite my misery and the cold weather, Denis and I still managed to get our garden plans in motion. As much as it is lovely to have so much space for the woofers to run, there isn’t much in the way of floral abundance, so I had an idea for a rose garden. We cleared a small area at the bottom end of the property and Denis brought one of his climbing roses to set the whole thing off. There’s nothing quite like getting soil under your fingernails to make you feel better.
My neighbour tells me we’re in for a harsh winter because the Pyrenees are already covered in snow. With this in mind, I’ve made sure that the vulnerable trees have been wrapped up in their polyblankets so that they stay cosy and warm until Spring. The citrus look a bit like badly constructed snowmen on my balcony, a reminder that the festive season isn’t that far away and now is the time to concentrate on winning the annual decorating competition. I’ve roped in a few ‘elves’ this year to get all the lights up but I need a theme. Ideas anyone?…
“The colour of springtime is in the flowers; the colour of winter is in the imagination.”(Terri Guillemets)
Widow plus woofs 