You are just not.going to...

 believe this?

Waiting in for a parcel to arrive from the dreaded Amazon, alright I do try and buy locally however I can on occasions be a retail tart and succumb to getting my heart’s desire like... yesterday before I even knew I wanted it nor even knew I couldn’t live without it!?!

If you get my drift on this you are a better woman than I?

Anyway I digress.  On the Sunday between Christmas and New Year I was surprised to be informed to expect a delivery, just two days after the order was placed.  I hadn’t even requested next day delivery.  In readiness for the book I was eagerly awaiting I had put a note beside the door to give to the delivery man in thanks of what must be an awful job at this busy time of year.

Standing at the door was a slip of a girl, beautifully made up with black raven wing false eyelashes, a jaunty bobble hat.  A total vision, not at all the usual delivery personage.  As I said thank you and went to give her the money she very politely and with thanks refused, saying we get well paid.  I tried in my usual subtle 

bully-boy tactics to overcome her refusal.  She was adamant: she very much appreciated the offer, wished me a happy new year and was on her way.

Well I don’t mind telling you my flabber has never been more gasted.

This is the book... Oh no!  I hear my regular three readers groan.

I’ve got it bad, even my son has now been indoctrinated by his old Mum... worrying?  

My sourdough starter like some strange deity is beginning to take 

over my life...Aaaaaaaaaaah!

Anyway, I can’t hang around chatting to you I have serious sourdough reading to do...

With every fibre of...

 my being I wanted to say...

‘Come for Hogmanay!’

The phone rang this afternoon, it was our very lovely but very eccentric friend who I so dearly wanted to invite to come up and see us.  Prior to the call I idly floated the idea, the husband was adamant that I shouldn’t.  His excuse was because of my frailty after being poorly.  Me frail!?!  The very idea!

As ‘Sir Royston’ cracked on, as is his want, I did feebly (in view of my fragility obv!?!) enquire as to what they were doing for new year.

The husband who could see where this was going started doing odd things with his head... shaking it side to side.  I did idly wonder whether like a dog he had got a burr in his ear?  Never one to pass up on a direct veto I said 

‘If you were going up to Scotland (as I know they do) you could always call unannounced!

This way ... I am dropped in the deep end and don’t feel the need to dust and do boring stuff like cleaning!’  He was certainly up for the idea.  I let it hang.

Husband put the kaibosh on it when he spoke to him.

I am sorely tempted to email under cover of darkness to say...

‘ Bring your drum and cornet!’

Jamming on new year’s eve between obviously the wall to wall talk that accompanies Sir Royston.

Husband as the call ended did say

‘Remember how wiped out we are after just one day’s visit?’

I had to agree.

What’s your candid opinion?

Ellie’s take on...

Boxing Day.

Regular readers of Mum‘s blog will know she isn’t known across the land for her innate common sense. She gets herself into all sorts of scrapes, trouble now I am included, take this morning for example.  Mum decided to take me for a walk to include a shop in Ludlow she has visited for the last couple of weeks on a covert mission of seeing whether the dress she has her eye on has been reduced.  She watched the price fall 20%... oh dear me no this wasn’t sufficient... 50% or nothing was her mantra as under different disguises she sauntered in.  Personally I think she took it a bit far the day she donned a false beard and trilby... even in these days of transgender and all that!

Boxing Day was THE day dad and I were informed as we all stepped smartly out on a money saving mission.  There was one small snag as we walked up the hill to the market.  What were all these folk doing milling about in tweeds and looking decidedly County?  Well you know me, every day a little braver, although as she fearlessly ploughed through the crowds without a qualm I thought I’d better put my best paw forward and be not afraid.  We got to the market to find the Boxing Day hunt were assembled ready for the off.  Now I don’t mind telling you she took it all in her stride as I know she is a sheep in wolves clothing especially about the blooming hunt.  The only time I got troubled was when she disappeared once again into the shop and came out with a 50% smile  from ear to ear.  I was so afraid I’d lose her and be forced into chasing a fox instead of what my chase of choice is... 

a ball.

Mightily pleased we set off for the walk around the castle walls where instantly I am let off the lead even though it is just a cannon ball’s throw from the centre of town.  

We had a walk along the river Teme, up into the woods and home via the pub.

Lots of ball games today as mum and dad are very impressed with the progress I am making.

This is my indoor game which I love although I do much prefer the one this afternoon in the Ludlow College field just a few doors down from where we live.

‘Can you free me...

I seem to have got myself handcuffed!’

He happily tore himself away from  the Christmas dinner preparations with the immortal words...

‘I wish you’d told me sooner you were into such things!’ 

as he freed me!

Think I best explain: after a two hour walk in the forest we got back this cold and frosty morn.  After coffee and cognac I decided as I was having the day off I would get my Christmas kit on... anything other than chef’s whites, so in the spirit of a total day off I got myself scrubbed up and slipped into a festive little number including the aforesaid fishnets. All was going well, slap on, hair combed(?) even the festive red Turkish slippers were found and polished... yes you heard right... polished.  Alright it was with the chamois leather used to wipe the bath down... I’m not the world’s best housekeeper I’d be the first to admit... but still!?! Shirt and red sequinned little M&S cardi (charity shop... six quid)on attempting to hike up the fishnets, I managed to get the buttons on my shirt sleeves caught in both sides of the tights.  I stood for a moment not being able to free myself up or down as it were!?!  I hobbled down the stairs to ask for assistance looking for all the world like a net full of mussels, not unfortunately muscles! 
 What am I like?  Far safer in work gear some might say!

 Ellie looks away with the 
thought...

‘Whatever you may think... she’s NOT with me...

okay?’

Merry Christmas...

Ellie and I enjoying the nine lessons and carols from Kings on Christmas Eve...

Can you see her legs and tail on my lap?

Have a joyful Christmas and thank you for your presence along the way.

Thought for the day...

 or should I say advice for the day?  

Whatever you do don’t record an ansaphone message when a few bubbles have been drunken!

How do I know, because I just did and it sounds...

a m a z i n g!?!

Whether I think the same tomorrow is a different story?

If I knew you better I’d give you the number to hear for yourselves!

Day in the...

 life of Ellie, new to the parish of Ludlow.

I’m pushing back the fear boundaries with the help of my human mum and dad.  They will insist on calling themselves my mum and dad, personally I haven’t the heart to tell them of my true parentage.  It is something I would prefer to forget.  The fear even when I am trying to be very brave does creep back.  Out of nowhere I am transported back to this time last year when I was just four months old.  Shut in a barn, full of fun, but afraid to show it.  Life then was a far cry from what it is now.

Today my mum, and that is how I now see her, decided I was to push back a few more boundaries in my quest(more accurately her quest)for me to meet even more of the higher echelons of Ludlow society.  To this end we walked through the busy, bustling market, I don’t mind telling you at Christmas it is busy!  Even though I didn’t really like it I was trying very hard to put my best paw forward and not let the fear show.  I did meet lots of other dogs who didn’t seem in the slightest bit fazed.  After a few friendly introductions of bum sniffing I began to feel a tad more chilled.  Well that was until she who knows about these things decided my artistical genes needed to be put to the test.  With style and panache she smartly stepped into an art gallery, only expecting me and dad to follow suit.  I don’t know who was the more discombobulated... me or him?

He, I think was worrying about his wallet, me well surely she knows I’m only a mutt from a farm in Ireland so what honestly does she think I will get out of art?  We patiently waited while she swept around like a latter day Brian Sewell pretending she is knowledgable?  Out of there, once again trolling through the market stopping to say hello to a busker’s dog.  Sniffing his nether regions was definitely discouraged in case he had fleas, to me he was friendly enough, fleas notwithstanding.  Next test, they only took me to the fishmongers to say hello, mind you, they have been saving all the fish skin for mum to dry off in the oven as a wholesome treat for me.  I did try to be fearless with the lady that rushed out to say hello.  I think the overpowering smell of fish about her person put me at ease, I did just manage to graciously accept a dog treat from her although I would have much preferred a slice of wild smoked salmon.

A small act...

 of kindness, completely unlooked for blew me away.

This book I had got from the library and planned to read over Christmas.  Having read Andrew Miller’s book

‘Now We Shall Be Entirely Free’

I had put a request in for

‘Pure’ which I was saving to savour as my Christmas read.  A cunning plan: however when I came to renew it on-line, it was due to be returned on 23 December, I found as a request had been made I was unable to renew.  Should I hang on to it and pay the fine or take it back and immediately put in another request? I decided I would enable the next person to enjoy the book over Christmas so today a couple of days early I took it back.  I explained what I was proposing, the chap on the desk said as we were this close to Christmas and I  would in the normal course of events be able to renew for just one week if a request was registered, he would allow me the week and as the library was closed over Christmas and new year I would have time to read at leisure the much anticipated book.

How I managed to not jump over the counter and give him a huge Christmas kiss I’ll never know...

I’m such a tart!

I said I ...

would go in today to help with the setting up of the patient’s party tomorrow.  I still wasn’t feeling a 100% better after developing this awful cough and cold three weeks ago.  My volunteering career was going nowhere f a s t !  Two days after my first and only stint as a volunteer I got this blasted hacking cough.  I sort of felt duty bound to go in even though I felt pretty grim.  I reported to the reception of the ward only to be told that the ward had the sickness and diarrhoea bug and they would fully understand if I decided not to stay.  I walked away heartsick that the old hardy me would have carried on regardless.  The sorry thing in all of this is suddenly I don’t feel as inviolate as I once did!

Do you get...

Denim...

on all ages?

Tattoos... 

on young perfect skin, okay if your aim is to look like an old matelot fresh off a ship. The ink leeching into the hollows and troughs as the skin sags.  Years down the line...
‘Who the deuce was Wayne?’ forgotten in the mists of time!

Piercings...
for what purpose?  An emerald on the side of the nose looking for all the world like... snot!

Jeans... 
on lithe young bodies, fine, not so hot on old codgers with a comb-over to hide their glistening pate 

High heels...

that look spectacular.  However to wear you need a crash course on the high wire of the circus to perfect your balance... Oh and are bloody agony to wear!
Purple hair... 
why?
Acrylic nails, that are painted on over your own homegrown ones.  The compound of which is so toxic the ‘people trafficked’ young girls have to wear a mask in order for them to survive, allowing their pimps to make even more money out of their being in the ‘free’ world!  Then your own nails only have the temerity to grow; the false nails look weird as they march ever further from the nail bed.  Ensuring that you make another appointment to go back as only the nail bar has the secret formula to remove the bloody things.
Black tattooed eyebrows...
that look for all the world like your forehead is sporting two black slugs spoiling for a fight.
Trainers on the old...
Why?  What are they training for? Marching towards the big sleep?

This year’s...

 Christmas cards.  

In the grand scheme of things, not top drawer artistical...

however usually I enjoy making them.  Not I am afraid this year. The thing is I can’t really put my finger on why?  I enjoy the deciding what the subject will be and the name I was happy with...

Whether anyone gets why he is 

called that name, I’ve no idea?

Everyone of the seven is slightly different.

They are now on way, so relief that the job is done!

I’m in a ...

funny place!

Valiantly I soldier on in the grip of this awful cough and cold bug; the like of which I can’t ever remember being in the embrace of? A tenacious little bugger, loathe to let me go. Everything I do is a struggle, being cuss-awkward I am determined not to give in.  All the while I am hot one minute shivery the next and still it lingers.

Cakes get made for the food parcels I send out, my sourdough starter gets all the love I can spare in my weakened state.  Parcels get wrapped, packed and sent.  My Christmas cards are finally finished; this year I can hand on my heart say not made with love in every stitch... just sheer unbridled tenacity.  Why do I make a rod for my own back I idly wonder? Being all things to all men, women, children and now dogs is a blooming strain I don’t mind telling you.  You try getting feet of clay into a glass slipper...