Missing him

Things I really should be doing right now:

1) going for a run
2) finishing an article on vasectomy (I shit you not), and
3) writing a grocery list.

Things I really shouldn't be doing now:

1) tootling around food blogs, looking for a way to use up the bowl of strawberries that is currently holding high-level talks with mould
2) wandering around the house, picking up the Hound's toys and pressing them to my chest like a lunatic. And saying to nobody, "Gosh the house feels empty without him".

This morning, I dropped Bristol off at a groomer we've never used before to have various things things done to his coat, nails and anal glands (don't ask). Since his arrival almost 14 months ago, he has been a constant  presence in our home. So it's strange not to have him curled into his customary position next to me while I work, to not have him follow me down the stairs while I make a cup of tea, hoping my hand will stray towards the treats cupboard. It's an odd feeling and I don't particularly like it.    

Post script: When I picked him up, the groomer asked if she could keep him. We really are the luckiest folk on the planet to be in possession of such an angel. Here's what he looked like at 8.00am, and then rocking  his newly shorn look an hour or so ago...

Look at this face

and then tell me you don't like dogs.

“Dogs are minor angels, and I don’t mean that facetiously. They love unconditionally, forgive immediately, are the truest of friends, willing to do anything that makes us happy.”

Jonathan Carroll

(Pic Credit: Tumblr)

Pride

Those in the 04 will know that the bit of the Town Belt behind Mt Vic is a fabulous place to walk a dog.

This arc of public green space, all 1,061 acres of it, has been frequented by runners, walkers, mountain bikers and dog walkers since 1840 (okay, so maybe runners and mountain bikers were as rare as the teeth of a hen back then, but you get the idea). It's where the Hound frolics, smells lots of canine butt and makes friends, as often as twice a day in summer.

And where a 10 minute walk can turn into an hour-long outing, as random folk stop to admire him and express surprise and shock that his previous owner could have abandoned him. And every time, as happened this afternoon, I swell with pride, as though I am in some way responsible for his good looks and sweet nature, as if his beauty is somehow my genetic bequest to him.

When all I did was find a place in my heart, and my home, for him. It's hardly the most difficult thing I've ever had to do....

      

Too hot

to write much today.

Or bother with things like proper meals. This was as much as we could rustle up for dinner.

Large chunks of the day were spent looking at this glorious view from our back garden.

But unlike us, this furry chap won't be pushing the 'like' button anytime soon. He's currently passed out on the stone kitchen tiles, praying for the God of Cold to return.

All you ever wanted to know about NZ's Art Trails

So the first day back at work and I spent a good 10 minutes Googling the side effects of anti-depressants. True story. But the fact that the words 'weight gain' were given a bruising workout in every article means I will NOT be going there.

In the end, there was nothing for it but to hitch up my skirts, slap on a smile and get on with it. Fortunately there was a lot of 'it' to get on with, so the first day whizzed by and I am now ready for a lie down in a darkened room.

One ray of light was my article on NZ's art trails was published in Eclipse Magazine (click here to read).

Floral blessings

Today I got to rest my gaze upon these blue beauties, a gift from a friend up the road. I do love me a good hydrangea.

They were my companions on my last day of freedom as I tapped away at an article, framed up a couple of magazine pitches and began plotting a possible collaboration with a photographer mate of mine.

Tomorrow I go back to the gulag to finish the second half of my current contract. Goodbye freedom, you were a steadfast and loyal friend; I shall miss our sleep-ins, long, languid breakfasts with a book, lunching with the Hound and the rare luxury of spending time preparing dinner. Y'all come back now, y'hear....

    

Happy New Year

So 2013 knocked at our door and we let her in, along with good friends, lots of laughs and a strangely retro banquet that included a cheese ball AND a trifle (is it, in fact, 1973 not 2013?)

Wherever you are, I hope you drank slightly too much, laughed a little too loudly and gave twenty twelve the send off it deserved.

This year is going to rock...

 (Pic credit: The Guardian)