Thursday 2 December 2010
Avalanche
Yesterday's roof-fall of snow produced an interesting hill for a dog to explore. Somewhere in the depths all the ferns are buried.
Today's roof-fall brought the entire rear gutter down. Richie will repair it all when the mini-Ice Age retreats.
The cats' jumping-off point on the shed roof remains unused; only Millie ventures briefly outdoors.
Astonishingly resilient, the violas are battered but otherwise undeterred.
The attic work progresses, despite the lack of essential fittings. Richie and I made an uneventful trip in the van to the depot, and collected a radiator and light; it was necessary for me to go too, as the holder of the bank card and PIN number. The small attic is now warm for the first time ever, though hardly pretty yet; I amaze myself by my ability to feel thrilled to have a shiny new radiator. And a light that I have yet to adjust. It's a small life, really; perhaps I should get out more....
But I also did a wicked thing today. Flossie had been forced to have a walk to the shops without her giant stick (health and safety on crowded pavements, you know) although she did manage to find another, more sensibly-sized stick on the way home. On our return, I left her indoors, and callously took the beloved giant stick into the wooded area nearby, where we never walk because of the proximity of the busy road, and I threw it into the undergrowth. Goodbye, giant stick!
I couldn't stand the strain any longer of watching her lolloping along, wielding that heavy stick all the way down the car-lined street, an inch or so away from making a serious dint in someone's bodywork. And to be truthful, I was in need of a break from having my lower legs soundly smacked by it as she wrestled it into submission. (If I develop appalling varicose veins, I shall blame that dog.)
Flossie doesn't know yet; of course she would forgive me at once if she found out. But I feel like a murderess. Perhaps I should tell her that it was buried by the avalanche; by the time the thaw comes, she might have forgotten all about it.
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10 comments:
Good plan! he he
love
Lyn
xxx
Good Gracious! How much snow has fallen? And I am sure Flossie has quite forgotten there was ever such a thing as a giant stick. Especially since she has found a new, economy sized one that fits her much better!
I'm pretty sure it's outta sight outta mind for those wacky labs. Since everything is new and exciting every minute, she's already onto the next adventure, stick, whatever.
And if all else fails there's always a "treat". And by that i mean a dog treat not a drink!
xo Jane
Ok, so everyone's hopeful...but I wouldn't wanna be you, hunting in the woods for that stick, if she doesn't forget! :)
Delight in a new radiator in quite understandable, I think . . . just LOOKING at those pictures of snow made me feel cold -- and we have plenty of our own, although not the gutter-breaking amounts that you have up north.
I'm impressed that you are venturing outside at all.
Although I think with all the snow that you've had, maybe the drink might be the thing (apologies to Jane).
I take an avid interest in all small life matters. Sticks, gutters, lights. Bring them on. I have a new light in the cupboard under the stairs actually. It's very dim but thrilling all the same.
I doubt that you'd get away with this with this type of behaviour with the cats!! Rupert used to stand and stare at me with a "What have you done with my mouse/leaf/newspaper that I was sitting on/playing with/just about to......" look on his face. He liked things "just so"!
I wonder what the weather's like in Devon/Cornwall/Dorset/Somerset?
The "lost" stick reminds me of the time my mom kept "shrinking" my little sister's blanket in the laundry. The blanket kept "shrinking" until it was a small enough piece that wasn't dragging on the floor as she carried it. Moms have to be clever!
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