Connor Again.

Connor has been for a 5 Kilometre run with my neighbour today, around some fenced in field.  I am no longer up to 5 Kilometre.  Even 1 Kilometre is beyond me.  But he was taking his daughter’s puppy, so why not take mine.  Although Connor can do 5 Kilometres around my minuscule garden when he is chasing the cat.

And I thought to myself, “That’ll wear him out.”   No chance.  He still came back and chased the cat.  Mind you, the cat does deliberately torment him.  But the cat is most definitely In Charge, so don’t worry about her.  She knows where to balance just out of his reach, with her tail swinging.  And she runs at him if he is ignoring her.

However, I think I might have cracked the Pee Thingy.  Connor hasn’t peed in the house for over a week now, although he sticks his bottom just outside the back door if it is raining.  Very clever, I thought.

He is so beautiful, and turning into to the dog he will be one day, when his body catches up with his ears.

And such a Joyous little soul he is.  He lightens my days and makes me laugh.

Wisteria.

Don’t grow it.  It’s a weed.  It produces wonderful flowers for three measly weeks and then takes over to the extinction of all else.  But then so do a lot of other weeds.

However, as usual, I wait with bated breath for next Spring.  I can already see what it is doing, and how glorious it will be for three measly weeks.

I finally got stuck into it today, and hacked off what could be quite good kindling next Winter, so I suppose that this is a bonus.

Robin Dominic will do the ladder work, and there is a lot of that, but he has strict instructions to only cut back to two buds.

I also sorted the wobbly table, mainly with a bloody great hammer, brute force and ignorance.  I can still spot an angle.  And kept on hitting it until it lined up.  It will do for another ten years.  After that I probably won’t care.  By then I might be allowed to do what I always wanted to do.  Just lie about in bed and look fragile.

I have long admired Elizabeth Barrett Browning.  I did have tuberculosis and I did write a lot of poetry, but the lying about in bed never happened.  And nor was I ever swept away by the love of my life.  But you can’t have it all.

How do I love thee.  Let me count the ways.  I did do that once.  For which I am grateful.

Connor.

Oh My God.  Connor is a marsupial.

January the First. 2019

That I should have lived this long.  But then why not?  It’s all in The Genes, you know.  Or mayhap in The Mind.  I ain’t giving up until I have had my monies worth out of the rotten old British State Pension.  I was never going to be their best Bench Mark.  Soooo…

Had a really nice day today.  Probably my best ever New Years Day.

Wrote to a couple of people that I actually care about, but have never met.  And had a nice time with a couple of people that I have known for quite some time and didn’t really understand. Probably my fault.  But all has been good.

Connor improves very slowly, but he is getting better.  He pees in the garden now because he thinks that maybe he should, but I don’t think he has really got it yet.  I take him out several times a day.  But the rest of the time, fuck it.

No New Year Resolutions.  I don’t do that.  Whatever it is that I can’t do all of the time isn’t worth doing.

My Stats have shot up just recently.  Mainly due, I suspect, to someone passing the link to my Blog to some who thought they might find something that isn’t there.  Some of them are still reading.  And I am really pleased about that.  I don’t know exactly who they are.  But that doesn’t matter.  I only ever hope to amuse.

All of this has done wonders for my for my ageing spirit.  So thank you so much to whoever it was who passed on The Link.

Such a Happy New Year I do wish you all.