Brin the Boxer smells the Springer Spaniel's bum. And the Lakeland Terrier. Two new friends who have joined us walking in the woods. Of course, Themba had a real nose on him. Brin has to get really up close and personal to make his acquaintance. Which leaves some dogs and their owners a little non-plussed. Not Rory, the tough little Lakeland Terrier, who can high five and roll over! But can't walk to heel.
No matter, we know all the paths and disappear in a flash, behind that tree, into that copse, or as last night, onto the cricket pitch. It's actually a great space for walking the perimeter. Plenty to look at, plenty to sniff at. The Pavilion is a bit run-down, but news of the imminent demolition of the Mushroom Farm should hurry up the plans for the new houses, and a new cricket pavilion in the Village. And so, we have been taking a last look at the mushroom farm development site. It really is quite sad, and will be a huge task to clear the site of all that concrete and asbestos. When we first moved to the village, the local pub restaurant served a very popular ShackMush burger, a vegetarian option which was delicious. Although the pub is still serving good food, it no longer serves local produce.
The work done by the Ranger earlier in the year, to clear the birch trees and rhododendrons, is now yielding results. The central part of the Heath has been opened up, the fungi have been splendid, although if you blink, the giant slugs will eat them before your eyes! The badger setts are very obvious now, as are the deer 'bedding areas'. I keep Brin on lead so as not to disturb the animals, I hope other dog owners do too.
Things have been a bit busy at chez Mad dog woman. Not content to be pushing ahead with phase 1 of the patient digital record system, I have also had to host a dinner for Consultant colleagues, purchase gifts for junior staff, and have all the nephews, nieces and assorted God-childrens' gifts ready for Dad to take to Australia next week. No, Dad isn't the postman or Father Christmas, but he is going to Australia for 5 weeks and my brother will enjoy the special time with him (or else)!
That means that we (Mr B, Brin and I) will enjoy a very quiet Christmas. We have been invited to spend it with Mr B's family in Croydon, but the thought of leaving Brin alone all day, and sharing Christmas with some of my least favourite people in the world has driven me to tears - quite literally. I have written about this here.
Talking of Brin, we have been in touch with Boxer rescue, and at last, someone is coming to see us, to vet us. Please, fingers crossed that we will be matched with an adorable Boxer dog before Christmas. A new companion for Brin, who although he is a human dog, should really have a playmate to romp around the garden with. He gets easily bored when I am mucking out the hen house. When Themba was alive, they would play and play and never get bored or cold.
And to end, the community police person has been around this week. Not a woman I have taken to, but she seems very efficient. This week, she was on the trail of a pony (it could have been a donkey) in a field. She noticed the gate was down on the service driveway of the neighbours. Unbeknown to me, the tree men had opened the gate, it fell down as the post is rotten and it had been tied up with green garden wire! Anyway, they were only picking up any debris from the hedge trimming, to keep things neat and tidy. Next thing, the police person is about, asking questions and implying that the neighbour is furious. I went over to appease her and sort things out. The police person explained that she thought the driveway was the path to the field (!) and thought some undesirables had broken the gate down. All's well that ends well, but beware. Don't leave your neighbour's gate open, don't leave your donkey in a field, and don't get the tree men to tidy up, because, in Shackleford, you are being watched and will get into trouble.
(Of course, the next day, the wind blew the gate over again. The tree men were blamed, so I enlisted the help of the super-neighbour who tied the gate to our gate post. Job done).
Stockings for Australia, gift tags by Christmas Pie Crafts |
Gift bags packed with gifts for staff. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas |
That means that we (Mr B, Brin and I) will enjoy a very quiet Christmas. We have been invited to spend it with Mr B's family in Croydon, but the thought of leaving Brin alone all day, and sharing Christmas with some of my least favourite people in the world has driven me to tears - quite literally. I have written about this here.
Talking of Brin, we have been in touch with Boxer rescue, and at last, someone is coming to see us, to vet us. Please, fingers crossed that we will be matched with an adorable Boxer dog before Christmas. A new companion for Brin, who although he is a human dog, should really have a playmate to romp around the garden with. He gets easily bored when I am mucking out the hen house. When Themba was alive, they would play and play and never get bored or cold.
And to end, the community police person has been around this week. Not a woman I have taken to, but she seems very efficient. This week, she was on the trail of a pony (it could have been a donkey) in a field. She noticed the gate was down on the service driveway of the neighbours. Unbeknown to me, the tree men had opened the gate, it fell down as the post is rotten and it had been tied up with green garden wire! Anyway, they were only picking up any debris from the hedge trimming, to keep things neat and tidy. Next thing, the police person is about, asking questions and implying that the neighbour is furious. I went over to appease her and sort things out. The police person explained that she thought the driveway was the path to the field (!) and thought some undesirables had broken the gate down. All's well that ends well, but beware. Don't leave your neighbour's gate open, don't leave your donkey in a field, and don't get the tree men to tidy up, because, in Shackleford, you are being watched and will get into trouble.
(Of course, the next day, the wind blew the gate over again. The tree men were blamed, so I enlisted the help of the super-neighbour who tied the gate to our gate post. Job done).