It’s been an exceptionally busy week which, considering the freezing temperature and generally foul weather, was just as well. Between ferrying woofers to the vet, sorting out Mumo’s new car and evening soirees, I’ve barely had time to do anything Book Two-wise. Unfortunately the next few days aren’t looking that much different except that it’s my new car being collected and hopefully less nights out. I need some sleep. Having eight dogs means once a year, they all have to take their turns at being checked over and vaccinated and since I can’t take them all at once, they are booked in pairs. Mo Cridhe and Coco Loco had theirs on Friday – Coco, of course, was a gem unlike Mo who spent the whole time eye-balling the poor vet although I did keep her tooth end in my direction. And you learn something new every day. Coco had chewed one of his back legs, he can’t feel anything beyond his lower back but the vet told me that they can have phantom pains just like humans. Who knew? Anyway, she gave him a bit of laser therapy over the wound and wrapped an ‘impossible to get off’ bandage around it. I give him less than a week to get it off.
As I mentioned, Mumo got her new car. It was supposed to be on Tuesday but there was a mix-up in communication, I was told that the dealer would drop it chez nous, something they denied saying so I waited in all afternoon for nothing. Suffice to say, Simon and Mumo picked it up the next morning without any problems – I’m taking Denis with me to get mine tomorrow just in case they blame my fluency on any hiccups. Naturally, Mumo has already had her own hiccup with her swish new Yaris. After having spent Friday afternoon with friends and lots of tea and cake, she managed to lock herself out of her car by pressing the wrong button on the door. Not being used to all the whizz bang technology now installed in new motors, she accidentally pressed the lock, rather than unlock one. Eventually she found the key in the bottom of her handbag (why do keys always disappear down to the furthest reaches of one’s bag when you need them?) and managed to open the door. Then she couldn’t start it owing to the computerised dashboard’s insistence that she had done something heinous to her expensive purchase so she called Simon (and his new but not new car) out to help. By this time it was pitch dark and knowing we were about to have guests over for aperos and I was beginning to panic. Of course, by the time my big brother got to her aide, she’d figured out how to start the damn thing and both returned a short time later more than slightly frazzled. Thank the Gods for great friends and wine, the latter of which we plied Mumo with.
With all the party excess on the agenda, I managed to get in a trip to the hairdresser on Thursday. I love going to the salon, not only because Severine knows exactly what I want but also because of the atmosphere. I love the chatter of the ladies whilst their barnets are being updo’ed especially now as I can join in with all the banter en français. Severine’s head massages are pretty wicked too, I’d go in just for those. The week finished off last night with a Burns bash at the gorgeous Graham’s house (he is the only Scot in the village), again surrounded by the best of amis, far too much wine and several bottles of the finest whisky. No I don’t drink whisky but judging by the amount of empties, everyone else did. The night also happened to be Sabah’s birthday, my new-found cohort in wild knees-ups so Cremant was added to the liquid mix. We don’t drink champagne much down this way, we have the best bubbles in Cremant and Blanquette. Sabah and I are both Fire Horses under the Chinese Zodiac, not a sign to be trifled with, so we get on literally like a house or horses on fire. Denis was a bit upset when I told him he was a Pig, I assured him that they were the most compassionate and sharp-minded of creatures. Love him to bits. And thank you for all your thumbs-up messages, yes he does make me very happy and yes, we both deserve it.
Hopefully, if one can trust the météo, we are due some blue skies and double-digit degrees. I’m itching to get back into the garden without stuffing myself into wellies and I’m not the only one. Denis hates being stuck indoors owing to having to recuperate after his op and the woofers aren’t happy with my lack of enthusiasm when it comes to amusing them outdoors. I still can’t let them roam unattended in the back bit owing to Sherb’s penchant for seeking new horizons and the neighbour’s cat. The lovely Lionel has promised me he will come and sort out the terrier-razed fence as soon as the sun comes out. It is not advisable to use power tools when it’s bucketing down he tells me. And I have to lay little Gizmo to rest and he hated the cold. I picked up his tiny tin of ashes on Friday, I’ve had to put them somewhere out of reach in case someone mistakes them for a pepper pot…
“Life was meant for good friends and great adventures” (Unknown)
Widow plus woofs 