Paddy's walks

We haven't had a visit from Amanda (dog trainer) since December, mainly because, for most of that time, the weather was such that going for walks was more a case of an endurance test than a pleasant way of spending time, but we have continued with our exercises, even in the days of snow. Paddy doesn't pull on the lead nearly as much now, although he does sneakily try to get ahead of me and veer across my path if I'm not careful.

What I can't understand, though, is why he still barks and lunges at some dogs (albeit not aggressively) and yet is so much calmer and well behaved with others, even within the same walk. Today, we passed about four dogs and he was perfectly well behaved with each of them but then we met a man, whom we often pass, who has two beautifully behaved border collies. So well behaved are they that they are quite happy to stand or even sit to one side on command whilst we rampage our way past, but of course, that wasn't good enough for Paddy today. No, he had to lunge at them and bark madly as if he were a complete idiot...

which, it seems, he is!

From TK

Two offerings for you today. This one is from TK, prompting my response, "You ain't kidding!"

A lot of folks can't understand how we came to have an oil shortage here in our country.
Well, there's a very simple answer.
Nobody bothered to check the oil.
We just didn't know we were getting low.
The reason for that is purely geographical.
Our OIL is located in The North Sea
~~~
All Our DIPSTICKS are located in Westminster !

Many a serious word...

I came across this through a link to another video from the same people. Somewhat tongue in cheek but with an underlying more serious message, I think.

The garden and the jaguar

Paddy and I had a lovely walk this morning. The weather was beautiful, just as you would wish the first day of Spring to be. The sky was blue and cloudless, the air was still and the birds were singing their hearts out. In the distance across the valley, I could hear a woodpecker too. It's still very muddy underfoot, of course. The soil around here is largely clay and so holds moisture for ages. Given the weather we have had since the nonentity of a dismal summer, through autumn and on into the winter, it is not surprising that any walks need to be planned with military precision to avoid slipping and sliding in the mud, especially as Paddy has been known to turn into a turbo-charged canine rocket at the sight or smell of a rabbit or squirrel and the last thing I want is to be dragged horizontally through acres of mud.

The garden too is in a sorry state, which is not improved by the continued residence of the Jaguar. Yes, I know, we finally got rid of the Camero and now we have a Jag gracing what was optimistically known as the lawn. It arrived in late summer, 'just for a couple of weeks so that I can do it up and sell it', as Keith assured me. Needless to say, weeks turned into months and it's still here.
But today, Keith has been out to order a temperature sensor, which, allegedly, is going to be the miracle cure, or at least part of it, so maybe things are moving (in more than one sense of the word, I hope.)
Watch this space...
But don't hold your breath!

A Mother's Story: Like father, like son

A Mother's Story: Like father, like son

A lazy day

This was the day I was going to:

• Do the supermarket shopping for the items I forgot to get yesterday
• Go  to the bank and building society.
• Take Paddy for a walk.
• Hopefully catch my friend at home so that I could deliver her birthday present which is now over a month overdue.
• Bath Paddy.
• Do the hoovering, dusting and clean the bathroom.
• Do the ironing.

So, what I actually did was:

• Go to the suppermarket for the items I forgot to get yesterday.
• Go to the bank and building society.
• Take Paddy for a walk.
• Do the ironing.

This was because:
Friend wasn't in yet again
And ...
When I got home from town, Keith was already settled in front of the television, engrossed in yet another horrible war programme.  (That 'Yesterday' channel has a lot to answer for!) Normally when he is watching something deadly (nearly always), I catch up with a few Radio 4 podcasts on my Ipod or listen to some music and read or go and do some housework, but today, I put on my laptop, stuck on my earphones to listen to some music and began my usual websurfing, only this time it turned into a bit of a marathon session, as I decided to visit some of the links on the blogs of my blogroll -  friends of friends, as you might say. It's amazing how time flies when you do that; rather like penetrating deeper and deeper into a maze, but very interesting and a great way to find more blogs to visit regularly.
Of course, there are two slight problems with that:

• It will now take me a little longer to do the rounds of my fellow bloggers each day.
• I still haven't done any of the cleaning.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day...
with another list.

How dentists age!

I had to go to the dentist yesterday. It was only for a checkup but I knew I also needed a filling, with the accompanying, dreaded injection - in the event, I needed two of those! My dentist is Latvian. Her English is fine, although she doesn't speak much and actually, I wouldn't care if she was Martian because, as I think I have mentioned before, NHS dentists are like hens' teeth around here, so  Keith and I consider ourselves  lucky to have found one. Well, I think Keith considers himself lucky, but he hides it well when the time comes for him to go.
Anyway, in keeping with the dental theme of the day, Keith found me the following:
(Apologies for the capital letters, but that's how it came.)

MY NAME IS ALICE SMITH AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR
MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST. I NOTICED HIS DENTAL
DIPLOMA, WHICH BORE HIS FULL NAME.
SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME, DARK HAIRED BOY WITH THE
SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY SECONDARY SCHOOL CLASS SOME 30-ODD YEARS AGO
COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON, WAY BACK THEN?
UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH THOUGHT. THIS BALDING, GRAY HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED FACE WAS FAR TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE. AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD
ATTENDED MORGAN PARK SECONDARY SCHOOL .
'YES, YES I DID. I'M A MORGANNER! 'HE BEAMED WITH PRIDE.
'WHEN DID YOU LEAVE TO GO TO COLLEGE?' I ASKED
HE ANSWERED, IN 1965. WHY DO YOU ASK?
'YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!' I EXCLAIMED.
HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.
THEN THAT UGLY,
OLD,
BALD,
WRINKLED,
FAT ARSED,
GREY HAIRED,
DECREPIT,
BASTARD ASKED.....
'WHAT DID YOU TEACH?'