Whether the weather don't eat human meat

Four-legged-friend posting today: mum's a bit busy - in-laws staying - so in order not to stress her too much (or to help her de-stress) I thought it best to take her for a nice long walk. Problem - long: yes; walk: well obviously; nice: well, if you call going out in light drizzle; then getting pelted by hard white nuggetty things falling out of the sky; being so soaked that my coat needed a jolly good shaking and mum stripped in the utility room when we got home, nice, then maybe it was, but in my opinion ... I've had better chases through long, nettle strewn grass, on an ice cold blustery day.

This is me - those white lumps on my coat aren't the worst case of doggy dandruff ever seen, but the nuggetty things that were falling out of the sky

One thing that bothers me, every time we are go out for a stroll, are the holes in the hedges -

These ones are just frustrating - there's a small one and two big ones in my garden and I haven't figured out how to open any of them yet

These ones are a struggle for mum - she has to climb over them and after rain that can be a trifle tricky, as the green wood step gets very slippery; for me, it's easy peasy. Wouldn't be so easy if I ate too much, or for a horse, or pig, or elephant even - but then, we don't get many of them around here.

As far as holes in hedges go, these ones are the best, easy for everyone, and a whole herd of elephants could fit through - they'd probably have to walk in single file though.

Even though it dropped nuggety things and then rained and then was sunny, mum was pleased I'd brought her out for a walk. And I was a good boy - that beeper thing won't let me not be a good boy! So good in fact, that I sat while mum waved her talking flashing box thing at me and gave me some bread.

Shortly after this we had to rush home. Mum said it was something to do with these dark clouds racing towards us. But I've never been chased by a cloud before, so I don't think she knew what she was talking about.

Strangely and rather worryingly, I think the in-laws must suspect I want to eat them, because when I get too frisky around them, trying to jump up and give them a kiss, or chew their sleeves a bit, they beep at me; just the same as all the mum-calls-them-unmentionables that I find under my nose when I'm out walking. Someone needs to tell them I don't eat humans ...

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Colour, Delacroix, flochetage and why don't we all have a go at inventing words

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My beloved boy, how lucky I have been

It's an odd thing that when we are waiting for someone to die ... and I say someone here even though the one in question was a dog - but to us he had character and a place forever in our hearts and was more of a familiar someone than some of the people in our lives. So, I'll start again - it's an odd thing that when we are waiting for someone to die, our senses go into overdrive. We notice things that normally would be part of the background of our every day. We breathe more - or rather, we don't but what we do is notice our breathing more, as we watch his. We pause. We think. We listen to ourselves and our inner voices speak. Memories flood our dreams ... though sleep is fitful. Why am I telling you this? ... ... we lost this beautiful boy today And in the hours before he went, I saw perfect spheres of dew on blades of grass - little orbs holding micro-images of our world; a bumble bee drunk on nectar, yellow-dusted with pollen, resting in a crocus; ten - yes, ten!

Confetti for the brain. A little bit of history regarding a use for holes and a couple of quotes.

Confetti - noun: small pieces of coloured paper thrown over a bride and groom following their marriage ceremony. Also the bane of church yards and wedding venues - who wants to exit church after their favourite spinster aunt's funeral and slip on the papier mâché mush of last weekend's weddings, or step, in your wedding gown, onto a pink spattered step when your colour theme is lilac? Confetti - derived from the Latin confectum, meaning something prepared. Which suggests that there is something missing from the traditional wedding rhyme 'something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue ... something prepared.' How about something shared ... declared ... or ensnared?? Nature's confetti is all over the ground at this time of year - The garden, footpaths, and pavements are covered in blossom snow. And, when he falls asleep beneath the apple tree, it speckles Four-legged-friend's black coat. The confetti we know today - bits of b

Walking The Dog

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