For the first time in 4 and half years of Sundays, I’ve missed a blog. I can only apologise profusely to you all – a combination of too many late nights and too much of the grape lead to a total wipeout and my bed. And Arry’s allergies haven’t helped either, his constant scratching and licking has interrupted what little sleep I might be able to have. We are off to the vet this afternoon, my poor pup is tearing his skin to pieces and looks thoroughly miserable. I’m sure it has something to do with the current mosquito manifestation, apparently everyone is getting chomped more than usual this summer – it is the number one topic discussed at any social event. Luckily, so far I have escaped lightly, possibly because I’ve slapped myself all over with citronella oil. Alas, I can’t do the same for my woeful woofer but I’m hoping the vet has a solution because he won’t have any hair left soon.
The short, sudden rain showers we have had of late plus the seasonal heat may be why the mozzies are feasting so ferociously. The number of social gatherings of late may also be a factor, the ‘all you can eat’ buffet kind. Denis and I went over to his niece’s place for dinner on Thursday, Stephanie is one of those people that can’t cook on a small scale and you end up dragging your stomach out of the door at the end of the evening. I love her to bits but her invitations terrify me – her meals are delicious by the way, it’s just the quantity served. Then there was the usual Saturday night barbecue chez nous which, although equally tasty, meant mounds of meat and potatoes and very little else. As I’m not a big eater of either, I did ask my sister-in-law if we ought to have a salad or something green to go with the brown stuff? Despite her look of horror, I did manage to sneak some lettuce into a bowl and my brother Simon reluctantly put a half-burnt but otherwise raw courgette on the table. Another night of indigestion bound to follow. And just in case my internal organs hadn’t suffered enough, It was Denis’ mum’s birthday yesterday so a family lunch at her place was in order. It started at midday and was still going strong when D and I left at 7.30 by which time I didn’t care if I never saw a pizza again. Or a bottle of wine.
Mind you, Friday night was a welcome relief from all the calorific carnage as I went to a concert in Carcassonne with my girl Saba and her husband, Roy. You can be forgiven for not knowing or remembering Steve Hackett unless you were a die-hard Genesis fan. The only reason why I know of him is because Simon was a fan way back when we were kids and later, my Tony. I have to admit I wasn’t overly keen on going especially as D couldn’t make it but it turned out to be a great night out. The only downside was it took us as long to get out of the car park as the concert itself and I was desperate for the loo. Judging by the number of people of a similar age to me who were dancing in the aisles, I expect I wasn’t the only one.
I’m hoping that the week ahead is going to be a quiet one, not only for my head but for my poor belly too. And Arry. With the work finished on both houses for the meantime, I can get down to tap tapping away at The Second Book and pootle around my potager in peace. Such rest time is sorely needed, not just because my liver needs a break but next weekend is the Preixan Festival, two days of non-stop boogieing in the village next-door. I’m going to stuff a salad in my handbag…
“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito” (Dalai Lama)
Widow plus woofs 