May the Fourth Be Passing Me By

It was the birthday of Bambino Bobble Wilson yesterday. He was six years old. He said he didn’t want a fuss which is just as well as he didn’t get one. I offered him some salmon for breakfast but he declined. He’s a tuna kinda guy, occasionally sardine but only if it’s in oil. And he’ll have a bit of chip shop cod, but even then he can take it or leave it. If he leaves it, I can usually find it the following day with my bare foot. Eurgh.

Yesterday was a tad chaotic. Started with some gardening which involved clipping away the grass that was threatening to overwhelm the hops which are starting to shoot up for their second year, and the fig tree which has grown a leaf. I know it’s ‘No Mow May’ but no one said anything about no clipping with grass shears. Besides, if I left our grass to grow for an entire month I’d be faced with ‘Machete June’ and I am too old for that kind of gardening malarkey. Also, I had some mesh netting to sort out of its tangle. Andy was eyeing it up with a view to taking it to the tip but I said, ‘No, I’ll untangle it’ because I have some mad idea about cutting it up and stapling it to wood frames to make anti-bird crop protectors. It’s all a vision in my mind. You never know, it might actually make it into reality. 

Whilst I was occupied with the grass clipping/net untangling task, Nell was occupied with digging a massive hole and by the time I’d finished my grass clipping, she was wet and muddy and I thought, you are not galloping around the house like THAT, my small furry friend, so I resolved to bath her.

Much excitement ensued at the bubble bath during which time the bathroom and I got disproportionately wetter than the muddy dog. By 8.30 a.m I was exhausted. Andy offered to take Nell up the garden whilst he completed The Great Shed Clear Out and I said thanks, but no way José, because that’s where she was digging her hole and she’d just carry on and we’d have the whole bath débâcle again and, quite frankly, I didn’t think my nerves would take it. Luckily, I was off to Pilates at lunchtime, having decided to pick up again with the classes I started, what, over three years ago now? Blimey, that long.

A different instructor runs the classes now, the other one having retired. I like the new instructor better and remember her stepping in a couple of times to cover the other instructor when she was on holiday. The new instructor is less likely to go ‘off-piste’. I am convinced the previous instructor used to make up exercises that weren’t actually Pilates. Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed my Pilates hour and was surprised at how much I remembered. And the best thing about a Pilates class is that you come away feeling nicely stretched. 

Back home, quick cup of tea and get changed, then off out again with Heather and Ollie who are house hunting. I was invited to go and see this particular one, and as nosing around other people’s houses is always a fascinating activity, I was happy to go along. The traffic ‘twixt here, Damson Cottage, and there, House For Sale, was non-compliant and we arrived ten minutes late. Ollie had already called ahead to the estate agent to warn her we were stuck in traffic and she thanked him for his courtesy in letting her know. Wouldn’t everyone do that? Obviously not. Looked round house and arrived home two hours later to dinner already cooked, as I’d had the foresight to prepare it ahead of time this morning whilst I was drying off from Bathing the Dog, and all Andy had to do was whack it in the oven.

Just about managed to stay awake for Taskmaster at 9 p.m but was v.v tired by 10 p.m and I wondered how it was I managed to be a full-time teacher in a behaviour school just a few short years ago. 

Nell was awake at 5.30 this morning. I am propping my eyes open with matchsticks and pining for the Energy of Youth.