One More Sleep

At last, the morning of the big push to Norfolk. Achievements so far,

Bought Guardian and paracetamol for the grievously sick husband.

*****

Early afternoon now. Not one single thing of mine in the suitcase yet. All James and Emily. The polytunnel has been watered and the poorly sick husband is up and about wearing complete rig out of farming clothes, big boots, boiler suit, beanie hat, heavy fleece jacket. He won't take them off as he is "too cold and miserable". I'd be miserable too if I was wearing all that stuff.

*****

Late afternoon - inundated with visitors. Polished my shoes while I chatted with them. I do like a bit of multitasking. Have already walked Jack Byrne in icy rain and had plain lunch. Bert still very sick man. One of the visitors said Man Flu is really a thing and if Bert needed sympathy give him a call as the poor fellow was obviously going to get no kind words at home. Not true! I made him a cup of Earl Grey and reminded him to take his paracetamol.

*****

Evening. Packing completed. Husband still sick. Polished my handbag and watched an episode on Inside No. 9. Feeling very excited. Hope Bert is fit enough to take me to the airport tomorrow. I took a photo of him sleeping on the sofa but it is too sad to show. Instead, here is one of Jack whose people will be collecting him tomorrow.

It might be a day or two before I get back to the Garden. See you!

My Name Is Charlie

There has been great controversy in this house about the naming of the stray collie I found last weekend. I was against naming him to start with because that was the first step to wanting to keep him but Loveheart convinced me that he needed a name because, "What if he's off the lead and you want him to come to you what are you going to call?" So we decided on Charlie. I think Hannah chose it. I know another dog called Charlie but as we don't move in the same circles these days that hardly matters.

When Pearlie heard this she was not pleased. "That's a stupid name for a dog! You should call him Prince." She had a dog called Prince at one time. Bert told her she could call him Prince Charles if she liked but we would call him Charlie.

When her sister Lizzie heard the name she wasn't impressed either. "I don't like dogs having people's names. You should call him Rex. He's the image of a dog I had called Rex. It's a terrible nice name for a dog." I pointed out that I liked people names for dogs. After all, since I've known Lizzie, we've had dogs called Danny, Polly, Rosie, Molly, Paddy, Bonnie and Judy. And Rex is a people name. She was having none of it. "He's that like my Rex, it would be a great name for him." she said. I said, "Well maybe so but Charlie he remains until such times as a new owner might rename him." She pursed her lips.

Later on we were looking at an old photo of Lizzie and Rex. "I don't think they look alike," I said. "Rex has a big broad muzzle and Charlie's is much finer." "Huh!" says she, "He's young. It'll grow."

I said to Bert later, "Charlie's nothing like Rex." Bert says, "Sure he is. Black and white, four legs, two ears."

Charlie is making slow and steady progress. As the week has progressed he has learned to trust people more and he gets on well with other dogs. He wagged his tail for the first time yesterday. This evening he has been playing with my brother's Jack Russell terrier. He is still very timid and terrified of sudden noises. I think he is going to be OK.

Lizzie and Rex sometime in the 1940s.