Update on Bob

Mr Bob is becoming a grumpy demanding old dog! No other way to put it, I am afraid to say he is relishing the role. If there were a doggy version of Father Ted, he would be Father Jack!

He doesn’t call for whiskey though he did lick some off my fingers with great enthusiasm which would indicate that if a bowl or glass were offered it would not be refused.

Bob still makes everyone smile, as he plods about the house, walking under the visiting Brooke (Greyhound of a very leggy variety) as though she were not there. His meds have increased a little and on each occasion, I call to the vets to get a new batch, they express their surprise and delight that he is still king of the castle. I have attached a few photos of the grumpy, sometimes smiling old dog. Please note I did try bribery to get him to look at the camera, but…

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I am not looking at the camera

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I refuse to say cheese

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Who wrote this book?

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Another mystery

LIfe is full of mysteries, like how do they get the fondant fancies so equal and smooth? Some make us smile and some simply leave everyone puzzled.

Dad has been busy. He created a puzzle. One night he fell, gave himself a nasty whack on the head, and we went off to A&E where they were very nice, very kind and despite all we hear about hospitals today, relatively fast at getting him x rayed and examined. He had a fracture above his wrist and it was bandaged and he was admitted to hospital for a few days. Fast forward to his release, all went really well, I mean I didn’t lose him which was great but when I got home I discovered his heavy bandage was missing. I rang the hospital and no one could answer the question. He was brought back and a heavier brace applied. All seemed well until 6 days later, I was woken at 3.30am and found this…..

a perfect cast sitting on his pillow and he seemed relatively happy that it was no longer on. He couldn’t remember how he got it off. To everyone who deals with him, it remains the eighth mystery of the world.

4 O’Clock means time for tea

I write this through a pleasant fog of tiredness….

shallow focus photo of orange ceramic mug on white saucer

Photo by Elle Hughes on Pexels.com

It has become a ritual.

At precisely 4 o’clock we have tea.

Tea and toast that is.

Dad suggests it, I fool that I am agree

The trouble with this plan is not plain for him to see

But I know that when he has relaxed and needs no more,

I alone am left to tidy, sweep and get on with my day while he simply starts to snore,

Left feeling that again I have been duped

Because it is 4am  and not 4pm

 

What if?

These are the questions being asked by those about me, and the answers are mixed. Some from Bob and some from me. I bet you can guess who answered what..

What if the sun burns itself out?

His next in command, the moon, will take over and our lives will be mellower.

bob

What if it doesn’t rain before September?

Irish people will become even more disgruntled and focused on the weather? Nothing new there. Their 4 legged tail wagging friends will wallow in the shade and be content with early morning walks in the woods.

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What if Breeze the ogre moves out of the wood in search of water?

More cupcakes for little old me!

 

 

 

Hanging about in Ireland.

Summer is strange, but often life is stranger.

We tend to walk a lot, (well Ellie and myself – Bob avoids it at all costs.) And during the past few months we came across these items during our travels.

A parish walk confirmed we are indeed in Ireland.

 

Greenhouses are not only for plants!

An iconic item

Bubbles but not of the chocolate kind, unfortunately

Maria’s Stuff: Life is stranger than Fiction Part two

This story might be familiar to some of you already.

 

Amadeo's house

Niall’s legs felt like lead as he walked the short distance to collect his car which he had left parked at the house his sister was minding. Two days of work with only travel time between jobs left him feeling as grey as the sky overhead.

Lost in this hazy greyness he failed to notice the tiny woman until she spoke to him. “Good afternoon.” Her soft voice had an authoritative air to it which made him stop before her.

He noted her pastel pink coat, soft nude coloured shoes and pink hat thinking, she is dressed like the Queen of England. Niall noted the package she carried was square, wrapped in a crimson glossy paper and sitting on top of it a perfectly formed golden bow. He looked around him and couldn’t see how she had arrived at this old house on the top of the hill. He wondered if she was an angel.

“I’ve been invited to tea.” Her crisp words brought a smile to his face.

Niall opened the gate and she, to his surprise, walked through. He followed and they walked towards his car.

“You must work here. Are you the gardener?” She stared at him closely. “I have come to have tea with Lady Louise.”

He wondered in what parallel universe did gardeners wear nifty suits and white shirts. But she reminded him of his grandmother, whom he missed, so he made no caustic comment.

“No, I don’t work here. I left my car with my sister who is minding the house while the owner is away and I have come to collect it. I don’t think there is anyone here.” He waited for her to digest this information.

“So I am at the wrong house. I should try the other big house on the far side.” She said with a nod which sent a ripple waving across her silver hair.

He opened the passenger door intending to leave his jacket on the seat when, to his astonishment she neatly slipped into the seat.

Her blue eyes flashed at him as she said, “That is good you have your car. It won’t take a minute.”

Niall smiled while inside he groaned. He had thirty minutes to get to Dublin for his last appointment, then it would be home for food and sleep. He opened his mouth then thought better of speaking. He shut the door carefully and got into the driver’s seat.

The house in question was a mere four hundred yards away. He drove slower than normal and arrived before the large electronic entrance gate.

“It’s shut.” His passenger said. “I’ll wait.”

Lucky for all concerned the gate opened and he drove through, straight to the front door.

Then without thinking he got out, raced around to the passenger door, opened it and when she alighted Niall gave a slight nod.

With a nod in his direction she sailed sweetly past him carrying her gift.

Niall didn’t linger. Tiredness evaporated as he got back into his seat, gunned the engine and got out of there before he was snared again. “I am not up to dealing with a double dose of silver-haired trouble today.” He said with a sigh of relief as he noted his passenger had gone inside.

****************************

I was reminded of this tale last week.

It was late, I was late.  And worse the automatic gate was playing up. The reason why became apparent when I stopped outside the gate and rolled down the passenger window. A ladies voice wafted in to me “Ah good I thought I was late.”

I frowned wondering if I, yet again, had got my wires crossed. I didn’t remember volunteering to drive an elderly lady anywhere.

So I leant across the seat and peered out the window. No, I didn’t volunteer to drive a stranger anywhere, especially to a committee meeting,  which I guessed was her destination judging from the clipboard and file she carried.

She was talking at a rapid pace. I remembered NIall’s encounter and wondered should I shut my window, lock my doors but her next words caught my attention, “It is kind of you Maureen to offer me a lift.”

“I am sorry I am Maria,  not Maureen. Are you sure you have the right house?”

She looked at me blankly then grimaced. “You are not Maureen”

I overlooked the disdainful look she shot my way. I smiled and agreed.

She didn’t look happy at all. “Where is Maureen?”

“One house over,” I said , thankfully at this point the gates clanged shut and I put my foot to the accelerator and left her to toddle into the house next door.

Like mother like son, I decided.

 

 

So ..I have written a book for kids, what next?

The simple answer would or should be, write another one. And there are five or six books written but not edited sitting in a neat queue somewhere in my desk.

However, I am stuck on the marketing and shouting about the first one.

If I constantly blog about it, – am I seeming too pushy? I dither on this question. But you guys are truthfully the only ones who read my ramblings, and for that I am extremely grateful.  So please let me know if I am pushing it a bit.

Blogging, twittering, FB and G+ are very time-consuming events. Which limits time for other important stuff. The only one in my house who loves to see me head for the computer is – Bob.

He assumes his best-loved position. Sorry there are two:

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Everyone else groans, (including Ellie) as they know I will be superglued to the seat until I have set up x amount of promotional posts.

And lastly for today my promotional push is:

The Runaway Schoolhouse is on Kindle for €0.99 ($0.99) for the next week, in the hope that a few reviews will float or clunk (be thrown) my way.

The purpose of the reviews for me is to help discover the fate of the other books gathering dust in my desk. Do I continue to publish or simply to blog?

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Dear Father Time,

Can I slow Time?

We didn’t know Bob when he was a pup but I imagine him as a cool super pup like this guy,

young pup elkhound

Full of life and fun.

He came into our lives when he was 2 and a bit.

Got itA bundle of trouble as every follower knows. He ate everything in his way, pipes in drains, remote control unit for the electric gate, the tube covering the wires for the gate itself, shoes, boxes, flower pots the list is endless.

He wasn’t always so laid back, he would almost jump into my arms if a gate rattled as we passed it. He didn’t like big dogs, and still views them suspiciously. He always loved people, big and small. We are a constant source of amusement to him.

However, lately we are becoming aware of his age. Walks take longer, stopping to pee is more frequent, a slight limp is evident on some days, as arthritis creeps in. His meals are prepared with care, adding fish oils, no need to worry about fruit and veg as he loves both and snacks on carrots, steals strawberries, raspberries and blackberries straight from the plants. He has learnt that if he rubs off the apple tree some apples will land at his feet and they are sampled as well.

He ambles after me and will sit watching me as I garden, do housework or write but after five minutes his snoring fills the quiet space between us.

Take today for instance, I suggested a walk and was subjected to the following looks. I took them to mean,

sdr

Am I hearing you correctly?

dav

Is she for real?

 

dav

If I pretend I am tired then all will be well.

He is 12 years of age and I want to stop his aging. Has anyone any helpful tips regarding arthritis etc with older dogs?

As usual all answers will be gratefully received.

 

Bob’s Diary: Perhaps we should build an ark?

A walk which Ellie tried to turn into a game of chase

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sdr

but I wasn’t having any of it.

dav

 

 

The field was flooded so walking and definitely running was off the timetable , for me, instead I decided on a snooze, meanwhile the other pair had made a new friend

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or was it a friend and a half?

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Bobs Diary: A word that should be banished.

There are many great things in this life but once Maria mentions the “W” word.

Hisilicon K3

Sunshine is nice…

I’m off.

Hisilicon K3

No fence can keep me out

Where to?

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I know the very spot to have a nice nap

Anywhere where everyone is allergic to work.