Category Archives: Puppy tales

Back…

…but not on track yet…I get into a bit of a dooda when I haven’t blogged for a while and I know there is a backlog of photos in my camera and words in my head and I don’t know where to start so please forgive me if it all goes a bit jumbly as it’s very true to life!

Life has been extremely hectic but  Tim has gone back to work for a fortnight and I will be working to a different rhythm.  The only way to cope with this sort of routine is to divide life into two and look for the positive aspects of something potentially depressing, like being alone for two weeks while your other half is stuck in the middle of the North Sea. As in an empty space in the bed but no snoring!  Cooking for one, but fewer calories cos the one who wants roast potatoes and a pud has someone else to cook them! 

We all had a lovely few days away.  Higgins came home looking very trim after spending all his holidays dashing round after his whippet friends.  He obviously made himself completely at home because he stole underpants out of their laundry basket too!  We had a grandson fix to keep us going until they come to stay in August.  It was a little bittersweet as, after living in Normandy all their married life, our son and daughter-in-law are relocating to the south coast of England next month.  Rouen hasn’t seen the last of us though, as my fellow mother-in-law (together we are ‘The Belle-mere Mafia) has invited us back to stay and as you will later see, there is still shopping to be done!

I still haven’t told you about the Pick n’Mix Market, which seems a long time ago now.  Fortunately Teena and Lisa took lots of lovely photos as I was so excited I completely forgot!  So pop over to Kitschen Pink and Bobo Bun to get the full picture, both of their lovely stalls, and everyone else’s!   I was very drawn to Sasha’s stall with assorted stuffed toys made of such pretty fabrics. Do I need a flowery kitten?  Well no, but I couldn’t quite resist.   

 There were beautiful  dog collars and leads in Liberty fabrics, but Higgins is too much of a boy and I regretfully passed by (Also, I want Tim to be prepared to walk him, and I don’t think a flowery lead would pass, Tim’s too much of a boy too)  After refreshing ourselves with coffee and delicious Stilton and walnut scones at Daisy Boo’s Kitchen  (I also forgot to photograph the cupcakes, sorry) in the corner I crept back to see Emma, of Silver Pebble, because she also had something quite irresistible,  this gorgeous silver, pearl and mother-of-pearl button necklace.  Actually, most of it was irresistable but I couldn’t spend ALL of the housekeeping…

(Despite my best efforts I couldn’t get a photograph that did justice to the necklace’s prettiness so please visit Silver Pebble to see  Emma’s lovely jewelry at it’s best)

Back to our holiday and my first exciting shopping may seem inexplicable to some. We went to IKEA!  Well I do live in a very rural part of the country where the nearest Ikea is two and a half hours away in two different directions so it’s always a treat.  We actually went to look at useful but dull stuff, like kitchen cupboards but then I found some lovely colourful bits and pieces which made me very happy…

See how easily pleased I am?  I mean, washing up brushes!  But the little pots hang off a bar and will be a cheery and useful thing to have in the studio holding scissors and pencils and brushes and all the other bits and bobs I need to have close to hand.

I did find another shop, a little treasure on the coast which I will save for next time as I fear I have lingered too long over the keyboard. 

Meanwhile Higgins has been doing a little  work  on the side, helping out with another blog draw.  If you pop over to That Elusive Line you should see him in action with the hat. 

 (The hat survived, just)

Sssh…I have a confession…

…I’m Turning into Mrs Pumphrey

When the entire family used to sit down to watch ‘All Creatures Great and Small’  (longer ago than I care to think now) one of the characters which raised the most laughs was Mrs Pumphrey and her small spoilt little dog, Tricky Woo. I mean, she was so  besotted with this silly little dog, made daft demands on it’s behalf and generally treated it like a human child.  Honestly, how ridiculous!

But I find I’m turning into Mrs Pumphrey!!! And Higgins is Tricky Woo!!!  It’s apalling, and I’m ashamed…

We’ve beem agonising for sometime over holiday arrangements for Higgins.  Our last dog, Spike, was so upset after his one stay in kennels I vowed not to do it again, and the plans made when we decided to have Higgins meant he wouldn’t need to go.  But circumstances change, and we had to find alternative arrangements.  A chance sighting from the Park and Ride bus of a logo on a car led us to Barking Mad, a countrywide franchise of doggy holiday homes, where your pooch can go and stay with a family, with all his toys and bed everything to make him feel secure and at home. 

And yesterday was Higgins’ trial sleepover.  The lovely Sharon (whom I had bombarded with emails and instructions about how Higgins likes his blankets arranged and which was his favourite teddy) arrived to screams of delight (and peeing, when will he grow out of that?) from Higgins who had found out about the pocket of treats on her first visit.  He went off happily in the car to spend the night with a nice lady and her two whippets and I imagine is having a wonderful time. 

I on the other hand have been moping about, worrying, while my nearest and dearest say, ‘But he’s a dog…’

‘No, it’s Higgins!’

He’s home this evening , around five, and I imagine will tell me as much about his stay as any small boy just home from camp.  And, all being well, will go off there again at the weekend to stay while we go to visit the grandsons in Rouen for a few days.  During that stay he will be sending me a postcard and there will be holiday snaps which I’m sure he’ll like sharing with you…

See, I told you…I am turning into Mrs P…

Going a bit Cuckoo.

Last year I didn’t hear a cuckoo at all.  It felt a bit like the beginning of the end of the world, there’s ALWAYS a cuckoo.  I know they are anti social bullies, parasites on birdy society, but they are part of the fabric of an English spring in the country, and last year I really missed that distinctive, distant call.

Not this year. Someone told the Cuckoo he (or it she?  I’m no ornithologist) had been missed.  I’m being treated to a fly past.  Every morning. At full volume. At 5 am…lovely.   But then the blackbird sits in the cherry tree and sings me back to sleep again so it’s not too bad…not really.

But I’m going to blame the Cuckoo anyway for missing my deadline.  The trouble with blogging is that you either have time to write and nothing to write about, or you are busy, busy, busy in the studio, the garden, the house (notice the order of my priorities there) and there’s not a minute to collect your thoughts and write about what’s gong on. 

So I’m really sorry that I haven’t done my 100th post draw yet. I hope you haven’t all been waiting with bated breath, but here we go.  I’ve given everyone who sent me kind words about my bloggy anniversary a number, and I hope the Amazing Random Number Generator will come up with a result.


Actually, scrap that idea…I’ve been defeated by living at the end of the line,  internet wise and instead of the ARNG I’m getting the ‘Ooops’ notice so, Plan B, little bits of paper…and someone to pick a ticket…

Hmmm…the tasty basket is probably a bit of a distraction…


Not much help from Henry, although to be fair it’s not easy to get a look in once Higgins gets his teeth into something…

So, we’ll remove the basket…

And eventually, deprived of the nice crunchy basket a ticket is picked…

Now if I can just rescue the ticket before the ink runs…

The winner is…

…Teena!  Congratulations Teena, of Kitschen Pink, I will get your parcel to you very soon. 

Thank you again to everyone who has called in and left a comment on any of my posts.  I really like to hear from you all, if I’m actually talking to myself then it will be true, I really am going a bit cuckoo!

Guest Post: Higgins and the Seal

Hello All, Higgins here! Being helpful again!  Mum’s been busy in the garden all week.  She says I’m not helpful there. At All…Grrrrmph….those green things are growing aren’t they?  Why do they have to be in rows? 

So I’m on the tappy thing.  Do you want to hear about me going to the beach?  I went with Auntie Aimee And Auntie Charlotte.  Mum didn’t come.  She can’t do long walks like we can.  I had to wear my seat belt, it’s boring.

I like the beach but they said I had to wear my jumper.

That’s boring too…but it’s warm…I s’pose…

There’s a big bath at the beach, it’s called the sea.  It’s very cold…not like my bath at home…and there was a  thing, having a bath…

I thought it was dog, and we could play, but it didn’t have any EARS!! I’ve got lovely ears. Auntie Charlotte said it was a seal…

I think it wanted to play too…

…but it didn’t have any LEGS! I’ve got legs even though they’re only little … AND he didn’t have a towel…

My legs got a bit tired so I had to have a carry back to the car…

I had to have my jumper taken off…

… AND wear my seat belt…AGAIN!

…but I had a lovely day…THANK YOU!

P S.  A big thank you to Charlotte for the great photos…

Out of the Blue


Today I find myself popping out to the garden to gaze up into the perfect, blemish free, china blue of the sky in amazement.   Only last week when Higgins and I were out on a walk I  had remarked on the fact that over our rural part of Norfolk there must have been 30 to 40 vapour trails in various stages of decay.  The Icelandic volcano is causing all sorts of havoc to so many people, so it’s good to record a positive aspect.

The vegetable garden is still a battle ground, and I am losing.  I have a sneaky black and tan garden pest, and a second sowing of salad greens with no labels and scraped up rows. I really thought the polytunnel would be a deterent but for a small animal of the low slung persuasion it seems not…

I ‘ve managed to protect the peas and beans with a cobbled together barrier of chicken wire and bamboo which has worked so far so we’ll see…

Things are growing fast.  I photographed the  rhubarb and the lovage a week apart…

 The lovage is at it’s best when young and tender, by the time it reaches its full height of over 6 feet high the leaves are a little tough.  I can’t wait for the rhubarb, I love rhubarb and orange crumble…

I’m plodding on in the studio.  I have shelves waiting for Tim’s return next week and that will make a huge difference as I can then shift so much bulk.  I’m slowly sorting, sorting…so much has got SO muddled, but it’s nice finding old friends and things I had forgotten about. 

I’m still finding time to be a bit creative, bearing in mind the ‘Twenty Minuter’ message.  I’ve needle-felted  a couple more little birds…

…but when I tried to make a pale pink one it stubbornly insisted on being a pig…

My Tabby Cat and Goldfish now have a shelf to sit on…

Henry and friends donated the whiskers, otherwise he’s solid Merino wool…as is the Blue-haired Lady.

Just as well I’ve recorded the positive side of grounding all aircraft, Tim’s trip back from the ‘office’ next week involves a helicopter so who knows when he’ll get back…

Mixed Greens

A short post, typed through gritted teeth…can you type through gritted teeth?  When I was young, and naughty (which of course was a very rare occurrence) my mother would say despairingly “I could give you away with half a pound of tea!”

So, puppy, anyone?  Very nice tea, Clipper, organic.  Very naughty dog though.  No-one with any sense would want him, however good the tea.

The crime?  Well it’s gardening related.  Over at Purple Podded Peas Celia has some excellent staff, Undergardeners par excellence.  Weeding, hoeing, pest clearance, manure…they are the business!

Here? Well, the Head Gardener is happy to put in an appearance…

…but is pretty laid back these days.

The Undergardener?

Over enthusiastic and won’t take instruction.  Has been given a verbal warning.

After two afternoons spent tidying and clearing the vegetable garden and hoiking the weeds out of the raised beds out came the seed packets to see what I could get going in the one bed I’d had the cover on for a couple of weeks to warm up the soil.  I sowed half a bed, salad leaves, chives, spring onions, red spring onions, radishes, carrots…and in pots sowed basil, dill and coriander.  Tired by then,and thirsty, I popped in for a well deserved cuppa and came out to…chaos…

The Undergardener had heaved himself on his stumpy little legs over the sleeper which formed the bed, and into the nice, soft, fluffy compost and it’s neat rows of seeds and, well, I don’t know…disco dancing?  mining? fossil hunting?

No more neat rows…no more labels…even the labels in the pots had been taken out and chewed…I won’t know if it’s basil, or dill, or coriander until they’ve grown big enough to taste…

So that’s why Higgins is lying in his bed looking worried about the packet of tea.   But do you know? In the end my Mum didn’t give me away either….

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