Good morning it’s Saturday and as I’m typing, my baby Wagga
is being bathed. Yesterday’s walk involved rolling in something not so pleasant
and the smell? Oh my goodness. Bless her she was rubbed down with a towel
sprayed brushed and all over again, then we knew it was more
serious than just a roly poley.
Hub is out there with Wagga shampoo towels and more. I
wonder who will come in more wet? Hahahahah. I’m so not going out there. He
keeps calling for me and I do go to see if he is Okay, but thankfully so far it’s
not been anything like can you hold Waggs whilst I wash her?
I remember not more than a year ago when we had our three
dogs. My old retired Guide dog BB Hubs lovely LC and my little Wagga, new guide
dog. I bathed all three of them on my own; it was in our old bath. So a lot of
lifting. And our LC was a Hu’uu’uu’ge beastie girl. Little Black Beauty was a
stout Labrador and hated being put into the bath. Funny thing is, she loved the
river and lake swimming. Even the ocean. Whereas little Waggs? I think she was
stunned as it was the first bath I gave her and not sure if she had one at her
puppy walkers, she probably got hosed.
As for my walk yesterday? My friend Artie came, bless her
she came armed with delicious cakes chocolate and orange. I had to try them? It
would be rude not to… But first the Wagga walk. Through mud and squidgy grass
she absolutely had a fantastic time. It was a beautiful day and the sun was
kind to us.
We came into our avenue of all sorts spoke with some
neighbours and home.
A cup of tea a couple of slices of cake and a good old chat.
She, Artie, is so sweet and interesting. She spoke of her
break in France. She went away on a art weekend. She described the village
where she stayed. The house where the art classes took part sounded so idyllic.
Windows ceiling to floor arch shaped with an enormous kitchen with a wooden
farmhouse table that seated twelve people. There were passionfruit trees and stunning
blooms with vegetables growing. Artie spoke of the painting that she did and
the French markets and bakeries, reminding me of our summer in the south of
France. Those few days were simply beautiful.
Oh the day of a blind person. Well, I burned myself in our
oven…. I don’t do this every day, thankfully. But I would say about once every
month. And it’s always the same way. I put my hands stupidly in the oven to
pull out a tray. Now I do have my hands in a towel. But the backs of my hands
hit the metal singeing rack above. Next thing my brother in law brought me some
plants. Yucca plants. I doubt that is how you spell them, but basically they
are really dangerous. They have razor like leaves and as I bent down to pick something
up guess what got stabbed?
My eye.
Of course I sent him an ever so slightly sick text reading.
“I have just been stabbed in the eye by one of your plants.
I think I have blinded myself.”
There was no answer. I think he didn’t get my sense of humour.
Hahahahhaha. Seriously though, it kills.
So what planned for today? Not sure. Nothing outside of the
house unless we go to cut our roses down. The guy came to price up the garden
for us, never came back with a price. I asked my neighbour to tell the truth. I
wanted to know was our garden in such disrepair? He said no, it was one of the
best in our street. I was shocked. He said “No, honestly, its lovely, really
tidy in comparison to most around here.
So I know that it’s not too daunting for them, so what is
the problem?
Well, enjoy your weekend. Wherever you are. X
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