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Friday, 27 October 2017

Under the apple turnovers






Half term has flown by in a flurry of little trips, constant dog walks and attempts by me to write something I need to get done by the end of the month. It hasn't been hugely successful. The littlest boy helped me along today by reading jokes from his book of 1001 Really Stupid Jokes while I worked. I keep hiding it, but it keeps turning up again.

Him: How does Dracula keep fit?

Me: No idea.

Him: He plays batminton.

Me: (After a tired pause) Brilliant.

Him: What were the only creatures not to go into the ark in pairs?

Me: Don't know but can you read them in your head, I'm trying to work.

Him: Maggots. They went in in an apple.

Mum, what's a skeleton's favourite instrument?

Me: Shssh now, let me concentrate.

Him: Okay, just do this one.

Me: I don't know, what is a skeleton's favourite instrument?

Him: A trombone. What kind of snake is useful on a window?

Me: CAN YOU PLEASE BE QUIET, I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK.

Silence.

Him: A viper! Did you hear about the skeleton who was attacked by a dog? It left him without a leg to stand on.

I gave up. You can't fight that level of ridiculousness.

We squeezed in a quick puppy groom yesterday. The pup needed his chin and eyebrows trimmed. He emerged looking like a cloud. Half an hour running round the park with a spaniel soon sorted that out. I don't really mind though, there's something very satisfying about seeing a dog running round madly with a new chum. He found a (mostly) empty can of strong lager on his walk this morning and galloped about with that a bit. That wasn't as good, I could see the lager flying out onto his newly fluffed coat.

Has anyone ever seen a school shirt looking like this before?


I have a feeling it may be a new world record. The littlest boy tried very hard to sneak it in without anyone noticing. Harder than he expected I think. He claims to have fallen over.

I am thinking about knitting a cowl in moss stitch. Madness? I fear it may be. In fact I think I started one before and unpicked it in fury after two rows.


There was a goldcrest in my fridge earlier. The biggest boy found it on a bike ride yesterday and brought it home in an enormous carrier bag. He wanted to do a post-mortem drawing of it. I popped it into an empty ice-cream tub under the apple turnovers.

It's an amazing little bird, so tiny. A picture, if you can bear it, showing its little yellow crest.


I am off to do a little more beavering away at the writing job now. Wishing all a good weekend. We will be puppy training and playing football as usual. And in between I will be constantly vacuuming up chewed up sticks and washing mud out of things. Honestly, it's never ending no? I dream of a weekend alone somewhere, wandering, writing, reading, soaking up the peace and quiet. If I close my eyes I can picture it all. Of course I would spent the time worrying about what was happening in my absence. Chaos and mutiny. I can picture that as well and pretty vividly.

Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Dog, tired








Sunday

The little brown dog is tired tonight. A full weekend with boys and outdoor adventuring has taken it out of him. We took him out to a dog-friendly pub to eat with us yesterday. Well, we were eating, he was supposed to be sitting nicely under the table. He didn't do badly; I had visions of him leaping onto tables sending plates flying, but he managed not to cause any catastrophe. That's my main objective most days to be honest. No catastrophes. Maybe I should aim higher.

Tuesday

Well, that's as far as I got with this post on Sunday. Yesterday I thought of things to write. Today they have evaporated into the ether. I must write things down when they occur to me. If you blog, do you plan things, or just turn up and write? I'm more of a turn up and write person, but it would help if I could remember things.

I had a conversation with the littlest boy after school yesterday.

Him: Our teacher was off today.

Me: Is he ill?

Him: Tummy bug.

Me: Poor him, that's no fun. Make sure there's lot of hygiene mind, if there are bugs going round. Lots of hand washing.

Him: There are no bugs going round. He ate too many sweets at the school disco, that's what I think.

Poor man. By age 9 the children are starting to get a little chopsy I think.

Monday, 9 October 2017

Odds and sods




A random collection of photos today, from inside the Above the River casa. The dog is getting damp on these dewy mornings. He comes in and curls himself into a ball, the better to dry himself.

On Saturday the littlest boy and I took him up onto the common to get the wind in our tails. Bertie found the most putrid puddle of what looked like cow slurry, although suspiciously there were no cows anywhere around. Oh how he loved it. He paddled, he galloped through, and best of all he drank some. Honestly, it was dog heaven. The littlest boy and I danced round the outside trying to head him away from it. It just made him run backwards and forwards through it more. The nearby golfers stopped playing for a while to laugh at us. I was yelling things like, 'YOU FOUL BEAST'  as I went, adding greatly to their entertainment. The littlest boy declined to have him sat anywhere near him on the way home. He was plunged into a bath with very little ceremony and soaped up with some natural, lightly scented froth of a dog wash. To be honest I could still detect cow for a while afterwards, but it was a great improvement.

Have a look at this chap.


Three legs, but still going strong. After I took this he flew up and off into the sunny blue sky, it was like something out of a movie. All we needed was a crescendo of violins.

I've been enjoying local dog walking, as well as the whole slurry on the common thing. I've been inducted into a whole new community of people and dogs that I only ever viewed from outside before. Almost everyone stops for a chat when we're throwing a ball and having a gallop round. We know all the dogs by name and I chat to neighbours I'd only ever nodded at before. I meet friends at odd times of the day and spend a happy half hour catching up while the dogs wear each other out. It's been a pleasant surprise. It makes up for not seeing people on the school run; now I have the dog I am reduced to standing outside of the school looking sadly in through the railings.

I am trying a little bullet journalling at the moment. Anyone done this? It's all part of the quest to be more productive and use my time wisely. And you know how I like jotting things down in a notebook. If there wasn't a notebook involved I probably wouldn't be that interested to be honest. But give me a pen and paper and I'm happy. Can't be without one in fact. I have a small one in my bag at all times, just in case. In fact I have quite a lot of things in my bag just in case. I emptied it the other day and found, amongst other things, four lipsalves (lipsalve addiction), three pens, two allen keys (scooting children), a stick, fifty biodegradable poop bags and a chunk of dried sausage. Prepared for every eventuality. Except maybe dog paddling in slurry. I'm not sure I'll ever be prepared for that.

Sunday, 1 October 2017

About time



see the boy and the dog?

dog at 40 miles an hour





rain on the way
We walked the dog to the top of a mountain. The one that isn't really a mountain, but more of a lump. The littlest boy and the puppy ran to the top of course. Then the puppy ran back down. He hit warp speed about half way, it was terrifying.

The littlest boy found things to swing on, in the manner of Tarzan. He tried to get me to have a go too. I usually do, but it usually breaks so I tried to learn from my mistakes.

The puppy went for a wild mud walk with a puppy friend this afternoon. I stuck him in the bath afterwards. Oh the mud. It is October indeed. After a day of racing here, there and everywhere it is a pleasure to sit down and see at least one clean(ish) thing. I will work on the children later...

Around here the week got more productive after the shambles that was Monday. But it's still a bit of a struggle to find enough time for the whole writing thing. I've been dreaming of getting away. A few nights alone somewhere. Imagine all the free hours! Home is the usual unending treadmill of stuff to be done, you know how it is. Or even a writing evening would be good. There is one in the nearest city, just two-and-three-quarter hours of writing with other people, then chat afterwards. Fellow writers! Peace to write! Of course none of it will happen, but I dream that maybe one day...

In the meantime I am keeping on doing what I can, where I am, with what I have. Which is a little writing, on the dining table, in between loads of laundry, puppy walks, mealtimes etc. etc. I know it's the same for most people. In fact many writers have other jobs and squeeze it in around the edges. I always find it inspirational and motivational to hear about it. It keeps me going.

It's much the same for artists I think. And those in theatre. I was reading an article about how little stage actors and directors are paid the other day. Nowhere near enough to live on, it's a real labour of love. I can't find the article offhand, but it was a real eye-opener.

I did a series of interviews with local artists a while back for a local publication. Without exception they either had another job or someone help with a second income. And yet they were still fitting it in, passionate about making art and developing and learning. Motivational as I say. The most successful, in fact an extremely successful artist, who works full-time as an artist, told me about the year of no television when she produced eight works for a national exhibition that she won an award in.

So I shall keep going, slow and hopefully steady. And try and take the frustrations of things around here that suck time away in my stride.