I am throwing a barbecue tomorrow.  If it doesn’t rain.  But every barbecue I have ever threatened brings on a deluge despite the forty day promise.  You can forget St. Swithin’s Day.  I long ago put a curse on that one.

Barbecues take planning you see.  Or perhaps that is the real problem.  I am totally incapable of acting spontaneously.

So softly, softly at the moment.  Done the Potato Salad, but we can eat that anyway, eventually.

The rest is just taking stuff out of the freezer tomorrow, and making sure that the marauding, stray cat can’t get at it.  He is such a pretty thing, but with such an anxious face.  I doubt that he will ever trust me.  So I could be wasting my time on this one. Let’s face it it, we all hope for something back when we feed abandoned animals.  So what to do when nothing is forthcoming?  Why does human kind expect something in return from the animals that they feed?

Enough already about Charlotte the Pug.  Yep, she is still with us.  Still blind, incontinent and flea ridden, no matter how hard I try.  God knows who named her Charlotte.  She is a Sidney if ever I saw one.  One brave little soul.  The truth is that I want her to die peacefully, but I very much doubt that she will do that any time soon.

Don’t go gentle into that dark night.  My thoughts precisely.  So perhaps we have things in common after all.

2 Responses to “Barbecue.”

  1. Elizabeth Says:

    Oh WE could do with the rain! Do send some over here – with a sausage or steak, maybe…..

  2. Elizabeth Says:

    but not Charlotte the Pug – she sounds like too much trouble!

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