Another pleasant valley Sunday

Daisy had a really good day today, despite starting it at 5.30 which had this result by 9 o'clock ...



She still hasn't overcome her carsickness, so we're trying to do short journeys which end in something fun, so that the car begins to be associated with Good Things. She's stopped the desperate salivation at the mere sight of the car keys, so that's an improvement.

Today the weather was gorgeous so we decided to indulge ourselves; a ploughman's, with a well-kept pint, in a pub garden sounded ideal. The dogs were loaded in the car and off we went to Wroxton, a chocolate-box village near Banbury. When we arrived (before she'd been sick, hurrah!) we reckoned a walk in the fresh air would cheer her up - luckily we know the footpaths (to several geocaches!) fairly well, and both dogs enjoyed running through the long grass and flowering Ladies Bedstraw, stretching their legs after the albeit short car journey. We met a couple walking their dog who was only 8 months old, and she and Daisy had a wonderful game whilst Piglet looked on, doing the canine equivalent of rolling his eyes and sighing heavily.

By this time the pub (the North Arms) was calling us



and we made our way to the only empty table in the beer garden. Now, normally when we go anywhere with the dogs it's to the accompaniment of children's voices crying "Ooh, dalmatian, a dalmatian, look, a dalmatian!" sounding very like a flock of seagulls. Which is why were surprised to hear a child say "Oh no, I don't like dogs". Tough luck, we thought - they're on the lead, behaving perfectly - shut up and deal with it. The child's mother, on the next table, told us he was afraid of dogs. "Oh dear, that's a shame" I said, smiling at the brat, saying "Don't worry, we won't let them off the lead so you'll be perfectly all right." And he was - it was his mother who was teaching him her fear; the child was actually quite interested in them, asking all sorts of questions ("Do you know how many spots they've got?" "If she's 4 months old, how old is that for a person?" and so forth). I hope we helped him override his mother's influence even a little bit.

By the time our food was ready (the ham took a while because it had only just been cooked and had to cool down slightly) another table, with an umbrella against the hot sun, had become available so we took our quiet, calm dogs and moved away from the noisy disruptive children to enjoy our lunch in peace.

By this time Daisy was quite tired and full of the lunch I'd brought for her, so was on a charm offensive, gently kissing everyone who wanted to say hello to her, and offering them a paw, and won everyone over. Poor Piggy didn't get much of a look in; nobody notices the elderly gent when there's a pretty little girl around.



She wasn't sick on the homeward journey either, so the good experiences of the outing (a fun walk in an exciting new place but with Piggy for security, playing a proper game with another puppy, watching children and learning they're not Dangerous, making friends with Strangers - all of enormous benefit when learning about Life.

Thankful for her Fine Fare discount, Tess co-operates

I'm sure we all remember playing The Tesco Game until that particular promotion came to an end. But all is not lost - there's a new, updated version! Hooray!

I think it was originated by Asda, but now Tesco have stepped up to the mark with their version. It does rely on you having access to a computer, but all you have to do is enter the row of numbers at the very bottom of your till receipt, give them your email address, and wait a day or so for the reply. Their system checks the price you paid against Asda's price for the same items, and if Asda were cheaper you get double the difference.

The first two receipts I tried were failures; my shopping bill was 75p and 23p cheaper than they would have been. Third time lucky, however; I was told I'd paid £2.52 more than necessary, so I now have a lovely voucher for £5.04, carefully stapled to the original receipt to make it valid.

I'm very tempted to copy this chap who's taken this new Tesco game to a professional level. Henry would have been in his element, making a profit out of other people's litter.

A(-), you're Adorable

I never even saw the vicious, beastly, bloodsucking insects that on Saturday decided that a hefty serving of blood group A Neg was exactly what they needed to get themselves through the day. And why they chose the backs of my knees (delightful though they are, as I'm sure you'll agree) for their feast I don't know, but I now have swellings about the size of my fist at the back of both legs, which makes walking or sitting down very uncomfortable. They both itch and hurt, which is a curious sensation.

Oh, and one had a chomp at my foot as well.

A strange glow in the sky

What's this I see in the sky this morning? Is it a UFO? Are we being invaded by aliens? No, hang on, it's coming back to me ...

Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye

It seems that you don't hang around long after you die in America. My dear aunt died on Friday and it's her funeral today. Is that short time usual Over There? It doesn't give much time for more distant relatives to attend.

I don't have no time for no monkey business

When I got home from work at lunchtime there was a small cardboard box* by the front door. It was wriggling slightly and a muffled sobbing seemed to be coming from it**. I carefully carried it indoors, cut the tape that had been securing it and released a young primate, who seemed to be very relieved to breathe the fresh air. He was taken upstairs and carefully introduced to the rest of the group. He seems a little nervous.

I hope they don't fight.

* Thanks Stu! :D
** May have been my imagination

As I was a-walking one morning in May

Most years it's been a struggle to find some hawthorn (aka 'May') in bloom for decoration on May 1st. This year there's no problem - it's been in flower for at least a fortnight.

So now that the May's out we can cast our clouts willy-nilly.

They laugh a lot behind the green door.

It sounded like a good idea. The greenhouse needed a bit of tidying and cleaning, so why not move it two feet nearer the house while we were at it? That'd give us more room behind it to relocate the toolshed, then we could have a more attractive one by the patio to store the garden furniture and plant a magnolia alongside near where we felled the enormous Leylandii and it'd be lovely.

Part 1 of the plan was successful. 74 panes of glass have been removed and washed, and the superstructure unbolted from the base and shuffled sideways so that we could then unpeg that and move it two feet to the left. The ground was dug over and levelled, the frame shuffled back and the sparkly panes reinstalled. A barrowload of well-rotted muck was transported from our neighbour's heap (please take more!) and dug in, and everything that had previously been in the greenhouse (apart from the rodents' nests, slugs, snails, bindweed etc) was rehoused.

I don't think there's a part of either of us that doesn't hurt. Even the very tippy-ends of our toes hurt. But we accomplished what we set out to do, so we not only laugh behind the green door, but behind the entire green house. Plus, not a single pane of glass was broken, and neither of us have needed to visit the Casualty deparment for stitches or anything else. A win, I think.

Don’t ask me what I want it for

My tax return arrived today. I haven't had to fill in (fill out?) one of these for years. I predict much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.