It's been a hectic weekend but an enjoyable one too.
Ben was staying for the weekend. On Saturday morning we went to visit the pups. I tried to take a picture of each one individually but it was tough. I think I may have photographed some more than once and some not at all. They are wriggly and run everywhere. They live in an old shed and it did not make for the most suitable of locations for a photo shoot. Too much stuff in it. The dam is a spaniel and the sire a border collie and I think the collie look will dominate - although that is no bad thing. I'm looking forward to having our lot back here. I'd been thinking back to other puppy times and remembering how messy they can be. Then I remembered something far worse. They chew things. Judy loved eating my shoes and must have destroyed at least a dozen pairs. We will have to be very vigilant this time as I have hardly a shoe to my foot.
We had Jazzer and Aunt Lizzie on Saturday afternoon and Ben and I baked cakes and biscuits. Jazzer did the ordinary cooking and Bert fed the old girls their wee morsels. It was a fine bright evening on Saturday. The crescent moon hung low in the sky and soon disappeared. The stars were wonderfully bright. Ben and I got sleeping bags and lay on the trampoline watching shooting stars. There were plenty to be seen. Jazzer joined us for a while but, not having a sleeping bag, she did not stay long. Bert, being 'coul rife' did not even chance it.
Despite these joyous, happy things I was a grumpy sod on Sunday. Maybe not enough sleep, maybe a glass of wine (or two) that I shouldn't have finished. Who knows? The weather was damp and horrid and I ate too much. Then I caught Ben tipping some custard into the bin.
Where are you putting that?
The bin! (In tones as incredulous as Lady Bracknell's)
There followed a lecture about waste and recycling. Sometimes I don't know how that boy puts up with me. He's a lot like Bert. Patient.
After our visitors left Bert watched Homeland (I'd already watched it) and I polished up a part of the family tree to send to my cousin. I have all this information and have yet to make complete sense of it. I hadn't realised that my great-grandmother gave birth to fourteen children in 23 years of which two died under the age of three and one in infancy. It was nearly half past one before I got to bed.
And that was when Pearlie started to say her prayers. Out loud. I said one too. God give me patience.