A Flying Visit

Back from a flying visit to beautiful Eelburn and the people and dogs had a ball. Well - there was a ball for a while but then Dora lost it. There was this one time we'd been playing on the beach and the dogs had had their chow and the people were going out to eat when we looked back and saw this sad sight.

Left Behind. Jess and Dora

Of course we went back and took them with us.

Worst Bit. Jazzer snoring.

Best Bit. Under a quilt, lying on a sofa to escape the sound of Jazzer snoring and looking out on a skyful of stars.

Eelburn

Just a short one. I had a lovely birthday and now Bert, Jazzer and I are off to Eelburn for a day, a night and a morning. Back tomorrow.

Solitude and Company

I am sitting here tapping on the keyboard, door open. Across the landing in a darkened room, door also open, sleep Martha and Evie. I had to go out tonight for a few hours so Bert was the one responsible for putting them to bed. He did OK. One out of two isn't bad. When I got home Martha was asleep but Miss Evie was wide awake. One yogurt, a nappy change, brush teeth and a story and she was sleeping too. She'll still be up at six am tomorrow.

On Monday I went to Eelburn, just me and the brown dog. When I was in Vancouver I decided that there would be no more respite for Pearlie. She was becoming thoroughly fed up with it and the thought of going into residential care for two weeks at a time was spoiling her life. From now on we go on respite, she stays at home. That was what my three days in Donegal was about. I thought I'd be lonely but was not. It was so relaxing to have nothing to do. I spent a deal of time just staring into space. How come I never realised how great that is? Just staring into space. Wonderful. Judy and I did lots of walking and clambering over rocks which was fun but sadly I appear to have overused my knees which became apparent this evening.

For this evening there was lots of kneeling and up and downing at the chapel for it was Cousin Joe's anniversary Mass. One year since he died. The service was beautiful with astounding music. While he was ill last September, too ill to receive visitors any more, I passed some time picking blackberries. Tonight when I got back Bert had opened a bottle of blackberry wine made from last year's picking. It was pretty fine. I wish I could have given Joe a share of it.