The House Husband

There wasn’t a lot of action around the feeder today. Actually, there probably was but the fog made it difficult to see any action. I did manage a couple of shots though. To start with, here’s a cheeky blue tit.

Blue tit on feeder

So, first thing this morning (after Mirinda had left for work) we had a slow waddle down to the vet so Carmen could have her operation. She gave me a long, sad, backward glance as the nurse took her down the long corridor. Nothing like the wanton abandon she exhibits at the kennels.

Day-z, on the other hand, wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered and happily trotted back home with me where we discovered that someone had forgotten to take her indispensable little friend. (Most people call them iPhones.) I was about to text her when she texted me first. I told her to miss a train and I’d bring it up to the station.

Once more hitching Day-z up, I walked to the station. She was perfectly happy going for her second walk of the day until we reached the A31. The traffic started freaking her out so I had to pick her up for the last bit up the hill. She was also a bit freaked by all the people on the platform. It’s tough being so small. We waved goodbye to a now relieved Mirinda and walked home.

We passed a few people who asked where Carmen was. It appears that while I’m invisible, my poodles are not. Probably something to do with being cute.

In the afternoon we went for yet another walk. This time we took a long stroll around the park, stopping off at the totem pole for a short rest.

Getting a kiss

And then, finally, home.

Later in the afternoon we heard from the vet who operated on Carmen. All went well and she was just coming out of the anaesthetic. He told me the procedure he’d performed on her back leg and, quite frankly, it sounded horrendous but he assured me she would be fine. She has to be kept off it for a bit but should be right as rain in a relatively short time.

Normally when I sit at my desk, Day-z curls up behind me on the office chair – there’s just enough room for us both – but today, for some reason, she decided to hop up onto the desk and then lie on the window sill. She has never done this before. Maybe she was hoping to spot Carmen.

She was quite happy to lie there for a while until we had a sudden, very sharp shower of rain (which washed away a lot of the brick dust). The rain against the window made her jump up with fright.

It's raining!

Poor Day-z. It’s going to be a lonely old night for her so I’m going to let her sleep with me. Fingers crossed she doesn’t have any little ‘accidents’ in the night.

And, just to finish, here’s Mr Grumpy Gold-Finch giving me the eye.

Do you mind?

I managed to (accidentally) get a shot of a coal tit this morning. These tiny fellows dart in and out so quick, you don’t usually see them at all. He almost looks like he’s smiling.

Coal tit

When we went to Hankley on Saturday, Carmen hurt her leg. It wasn’t until the end of the walk. She was hobbling around looking completely bemused. I couldn’t find anything in her paw (stone, twig, thorn, etc) so we assumed she’d just strained something.

All day Sunday she was looking a bit sad and sorry and couldn’t walk on it. We figured if it wasn’t fixed by Monday, she’d be going to the vet. And so, today, she went to the vet.

The vet gave her an examination and it seems she has torn the cruciate ligament in one of her back legs. This is what her ‘knee’ looks like and what/where the cruciate ligament is.

Not Carmen's knee

Of course, the vet wasn’t 100% certain but she was pretty adamant that Carmen needed surgery ASAP. Part of the procedure is an x-ray first, just to make sure. If this shows that the ligament isn’t torn then she can probably just come home otherwise she’ll be in for yet another operation. She will be spending the day and night at the vet.

The pain has not stopped her leaping about on the furniture. Although, I should say, she misses more often with only three legs.
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How’s this for a cheeky face?

Gold finch

Last night we watched a French thriller called Point Blank. Not to be confused with the 1967 Point Blank, (an American thriller starring Lee Marvin & Angie Dickinson) this is actually called À bout portant in French, which translates to At point blank range, which explains the English title…but it’s a bit annoying.

However, that’s about the only annoying thing in the film.

The French do two things really well when it comes to movies: comedy and thrillers. And this just proves it. This was non-stop from beginning to end. When the film slows down near the beginning, it’s just a brief respite before the roller coaster once more takes off at breakneck speed to the inevitable conclusion.

The film is about police and criminals and the blurry line between them. The director has amplified this by dressing them all in very dark outfits and making them all look the same. Throughout the film you’re never sure who is who, apart from the poor nurse’s aide, Sam (Gilles Lellouche), the reluctant ordinary man dragged ‘underground’ when his pregnant wife is kidnapped.

It’s a fantastic movie that, for 86 minutes, never lets up. If you don’t mind subtitles (or speak French) it’s well worth a watch.

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Following yesterday’s attempt at bog snorkelling, I thought I should include a photo of the thoroughly clean Carmen. Mirinda told me it took three rinses before she was ready to apply the shampoo!

Carmen waits for another boggy adventure

I have been made aware of the fact that Carmen has a thing for McVities Chocolate Digestives. Normally she couldn’t care less what I have on the coffee table. Ok, she may stroll by (if she’s awake) and cast a querulous nose in the direction of anything edible but rarely stops and is soon asleep on the opposite lounge to me. So, it came as a complete surprise when, today, she managed to pick up a small tube of the aforementioned biscuits in her front teeth, fully intent on making off with the.

Don’t get me wrong. We rarely have biscuits in the house but my wrist, for some reason, requested Jaffa Cakes last week and Chocolate Digestives this. It seems to work quite well. It may be a medical first – broken bones held together by McVities snacks.

So today, following lunch, I was watching Deadwood series 1 and enjoying a coffee and a few Chocolate Digestives when I heard Carmen emit a low growl. This is generally a warning for her sister to keep back…or else. I looked at her, sitting menacingly on the armchair, her eyes fixed on the biscuit tube.

The sealed tube

I told her to stop growling at Day-z and returned to the TV when, just as my head was turning, she leaned forward and grasped the lip of the lid between her front teeth and attempted to make off with it. You may have noted it says ‘Resealable Pack’. This didn’t stop her treat seeking nose. I managed to get it off her before she could open it and have away with my biscuits. Truly astounding.

Carmen keeping an eye out for any tasty treats

Last night I was cooking dinner and the doorbell summoned me away from the kitchen. My first thought was that Mirinda had somehow managed to arrive two hours early but this was impossible. I opened the front door to find a pair of Shirley Temples eagerly beaming up at me, a plastic bag held out in front of them.

“We’d like to sell you these potatoes,” the older one said with a wide grin.
“And how much are you selling them for?” I asked, bemused.
“For free. We’re selling them for free!” She thought this was a brilliant jape as she thrust the plastic bag at me.
“Genius price,” I noted as I took the bag.
“We had far too many in our garden so we’re giving them away.”
“Why, thank you. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

They left, skipping down the road, another plastic bag ready for our neighbours.

The thing is, they are very small and there’s only enough for one person. I can see these two little girls helping mum and/or dad plucking them eagerly from the ground but then saying there’s too many for them to eat and worrying about it as they start to sort them out at the kitchen table. One of them suddenly has a brilliant idea; divide them all up into individual bags and spread the bounty throughout the neighbourhood.

Obviously, mum and/or dad would have thought this was a wonderfully generous thing to do and encouraged them. I agree and think it was really lovely. The trouble is, in an effort to be as fair as possible, the amount of potatoes per house was very small. And, given the fact that the potatoes were small as well…well, there’s barely a mouthful for each recipient.

In my case that’s fine. I would have eaten them last night except I had already prepared couscous to go with my coconut curry (I love mixing ethnic dishes) but I can have them tomorrow night when Mirinda is off gallivanting around London.

Tiny Taters

To give you a guide…they are on a saucer! The white bit is where the cup goes. They are real Tiny Taters.

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Today we decided to go up to the Devil’s Punchbowl to see how much better it is now the A3 is closed. Apart from the fact that you can’t even walk along the old road – something we really wanted to do – it’s fantastic. Hardly any traffic and virtually no noise. We, and about three thousand others, had a delightful walk. The poodles rather liked it as well.

Actually it was here, many years ago, that Day-z tried to run over a cattle grid and came a cropper. Carmen was running so fast, she just raced across the top of it. Following on her heels, Day-z mistimed her front feet and one paw went between the metal struts and she went tumbling. She tumbled and she screamed.

She screamed like her foot had been cut off. She wouldn’t stop screaming until I picked her up and soothed her. People thought we were abusing our dog. It was terribly embarrassing.

We wanted to see if they remembered the cattle grid. Of course they don’t run quite as much these days and are a little more careful about where they tread but, even so, Day-z did give the grid a cautious sniff before walking around it.

The Devil's Punchbowl, Surrey

On the way back to the car, Carmen decided she quite fancied whatever was being served in the National Trust cafe and it was only because Mirinda noticed her disappearing into the depths that we knew where she’d gone and could retrieve her. It’s my opinion that this is where she acquired her sudden love for shortbread.

At home, Mirinda suddenly produced a packet of macadamia shortbread. To my knowledge, Carmen has never had shortbread or macadamia nuts but it was like she could read the packet. She was up and staring intently at the box before Mirinda even unwrapped it. Maybe she’s learnt to read. Whatever it was, she went a bit manic for a bit. Very odd.

I mean I can leave a plate of sausages sitting on the coffee table in the lounge while I get something from the kitchen and all I have to say to the dogs is to ‘stay’ and they do. They may try and stare down the sausages but they never come close to them. But shortbread…it’s way beyond me.

And what has happened to the gladiolus? It’s really starting to push through, that’s what!

Gladiolus - day seven

Today I took my weeding tools to the front garden and driveway. While it’s only a very small space, it’s amazing how many weeds grow between the bricks and through the gravel. Of course, there’s also the wisteria, which is a pretty big job, requiring the extension ladder and a good deal of courage.

I was joined by the poodles. Carmen is usually very good. She just finds a spot near me, collapses and sleeps. Day-z, on the other hand, has a bad habit of going for a stroll either up or down the street. I try and keep an eye on them but sometimes she sneaks off regardless. Like today.

I suddenly realised she wasn’t anywhere near me – Carmen had decided it was cooler in the house and was stretched out on the parquetry floor – so I raised myself from my knees and had a look around.

She wasn’t anywhere around Sidney. She wasn’t in the lounge or the back garden. I walked out the front and look down the road. She wasn’t there. I turned and looked towards the park. A little, black, fluffy figure was walking slowly, but deliberately, up to the steps.

I merely spoke her name and she stopped. I said “Come here,” and she turned around and just as slowly and deliberately, returned to the house as if nothing unusual had taken place. If it had been Carmen she would have that terribly-guilty-but-very-very-sorry look on her face.

Of course that was only once, for most of the time they both lay in the shade created by Sidney. It was very hot today and they were a bit puffy with it. In fact they were there when I suddenly leapt up and started swearing while waving my hand around.

I’d been working under the giant lavender, pulling up the nasty acid green weeds when a rotten bee stung me. Straight into the back of my hand. Bastard! I suppose it’s not exactly surprising – the giant lavender was positively alive with insects, buzzing around my head, occasionally warning me with sudden swoops into my head.

If nothing else, it proved I’m not allergic to bee stings. Not that it’s the first time I’ve ever been stung…but you never know.

A camera shy bumblebee on the giant lavender

I hasten to add that I didn’t get stung by one of these cute and cuddly critters. No, it was one of those horrid honey bees that just love to have a go at me.

It reminds me of the time I was walking the dogs in the fields opposite the cottage, when we lived there. Just below Wally’s house were three or four bee hives. They’d never been a problem before so I just happily walked by as I always did. Unfortunately, I walked straight along the official bee flight path just as they started to return from a days pollen collecting. I saw them coming, like a dark avenging angel, swooping towards me, intent on my destruction.

I’m not proud…I ran like a lunatic. The dogs thought it was great fun, running along with me, jumping and barking at the funny little flying things. I say I was running like a lunatic and I mean it. I was frantically waving my hands and arms around my face, knees climbing high as I stepped because of the ploughed furrows in the field I would normally skirt. Finally I fell, rolling around a few times, the dogs joining in, playfully.

I’d managed to escape, unscathed. It was while I was trying to fend off the dogs that one persistent bee saw his opportunity and stabbed me in the arm. The only joy I took from this experience was that the bee died. I like to think that is justice.

But enough of that unpleasantness…the fuchsias in the hanging basket were all looking rather pretty today so, for Mirinda, who always does such an expert job planting up the baskets, I thought I’d better show some.

Fuchsia hanging from a basket

And of course, I can’t resist a gladdy update…

Gladiolus - day two

Carmen hates hot air balloons (of course, being a French poodle, she calls them Montgolfiers). She grew to hate them while growing up at Alton where they regularly coasted above our cottage. What she hates most is the noise they make when the big burners are set off. She goes crazy.

A while ago we had one come down in the park not far from us and, as it almost skimmed the back fence, Carmen barked and showed her considerable displeasure by trying to stare it down.

Given the weather recently, we haven’t had a lot of balloon activity so Carmen’s sleep has only been disturbed by run of the mill things like other dogs getting out of cars, the people either side of us walking in the gardens, cats, squirrels and her sister.

This afternoon I was weeding (the sun actually came out for a bit and we only had one bout of rain at lunchtime), listening to the birds and insects buzzing around me when Carmen started going off. She was standing on the patio table, facing the Crazies’ house. I figured it was a cat – there’s one which regularly sits on the fence, teasing her. But no cat was in evidence. And then I suddenly realised what it was.

The Crazies are having some work done down the side of their house. Getting a window replaced or something. For the last two days there’s been a young guy there drilling and bashing and generally making working noises while dodging the rain. Today he was joined by a guy who I presumed is his boss (he was older and told him what to do).

He (the older chap) was standing at the top of a ladder with a heat gun, sealing the window (I think). The noise made by the heat gun was exactly like a hot air balloon and it was this that Carmen was barking at.

The guy turned and looked at Carmen, asking her what she was barking at. I told him it was the noise, that she didn’t like hot air balloons, thinking this probably sounded most peculiar.

“Ah, right. Yeah, mine does the same. Hates them,” he said.

Anyway, that was about it for excitement today.

Talking to mum on the phone, she asked for photos of the garden. She likes the flower close ups but wants to get a sense of the whole thing. So, for mum…and so Mirinda can keep an eye on her garden as well.

From the study

This is the garden taken from Mirinda’s study window. On the left, about halfway up, you may see some tiny red spots. These are the snapdragons. In the bottom right hand corner is the twisted hazel and the big purple rose bush.

The patio pots

The patio just outside the kitchen window. Lots of colour from geraniums and lobelia. These are Mirinda’s pots. The herb table is also looking very full. This was taken before I weeded!

Did I say we only one bout of rain? As I sit here typing, it just started pouring again. Bloody weeds will just grow more.

The hot border

The hot border from the back of the new border that has little in it at the moment. The lavatera on the right is Carmen’s and is the other side of the big one. The blue trug is for the weeds I was digging up. It’s on its side because of the sudden rain shortly before this shot was taken.

Verbena

We were despairing that the verbena wasn’t growing (it did suffer in the snow last year) but it has come up just not as thickly this time. That’s the long stalks with the tiny purple flowers on top. This is the other side of the patio. The little yellow buttons of the cotton lavender can be seen as well as a stray orange crocosmia against the fence. The purple lavender has all fallen over because the dogs love running between it and the fence when the cat is teasing them. While it makes the lavender look a bit messy, the dogs end up smelling beautiful.

And a final shot of Day-z in her favourite place – sitting on a window sill, staring out at the world. This is in Mirinda’s study and where I tend to find her when I’m working upstairs.

Day-z at the window

And after the storm we have a glorious day with the temperature a reasonable 26º. Heavenly and just right for tennis. I’m sure mum would agree since she seems to have become obsessed with the weather at Wimbledon. Apparently Dawn (who loves Wimbledon) spent a large part of the day watching the men’s quarter finals today including Murray’s win. I’m sure she’s very happy tonight.

As Mirinda was in Manchester today (for work…like she’d go there for pleasure! Not!) we didn’t have our usual lunch date so I was at home, doing my house husbandly duties. As I’m off up north myself tomorrow, I’ve made the house lovely for her and the poodles.

Other than shopping, I went out to the park with the girls. Such a lovely day for a walk. Following the increasing prevalence of FSIs, I decided to make them wear their coats. I counted them rolling in some foul remains no less than 8 times. Rotten dogs: Excellent coats.

As we swung up towards the castle, I spotted what I first thought was a giant hare. Actually, that’s not true but Mirinda will understand. I thought it was a Rhodesian ridgeback, standing on top of the defensive ditch that runs around the castle. Then I realised it had a very long neck and was eating grass. Now I’m no authority on Rhodesian ridgebacks but this seemed unlikely behaviour. Then it looked up, staring at me and the poodles.

It was a deer, having a midday munch. I immediately stopped and signalled the dogs to stop. One really handy thing the dogs seemed to have learnt is that when I put my hand (or in fact, a finger) out at them, they just stop and stare at it. Works most of the time and today was no exception. All three of us stood like statues until the deer figured we were just trees that hadn’t been there shortly before, and went back to its meal.

I slowly walked in a circle, keeping my eyes on the deer and the dogs trotting at my heels, eyes glued on my hand. I stopped when we reached one of the Avenue of Trees trees and took out my camera. The deer was still quite a distance from us but, using the tree as an improvised sideways tripod, I snapped a few shots of it, willing it to look up at me.

Deer in Farnham Park

It is so rare to catch them out during the day, I was thrilled. The deer is looking down the hill from me where a woman and two Labradors were approaching. It bolted soon afterwards, as all the dogs spotted each other and the four of them started talking in overly loud dog language.

Speaking of the girls…while I was taking my blip for today, Carmen decided to sit on the patio table, giving me moral support (or wondering what the hell I was doing crouched over the cotton lavender). She looked so cute, I snapped her too.

Carmen in her favourite sunny position

I won’t have my netbook with me for the next few days as I go north to watch the cricket and drink beer so my ravings will be having a rest until Sunday when I can type again.

We had a builder come over today to get another quote for possible work on the house. His name is Mark and he’s just finishing a job for someone Mirinda used to work for. She recommended him. And he seems a very nice chap.

He wandered around, was suitable astonished at the shoddy work from previous builders, admired the garden and played My Chair, Your Chair, with Carmen. This is a game she loves. While Day-z has her celebration toy, Carmen has this game.

The object of the game is to remain on a dining room chair for longer than your opponent. The rules are simple – when your opponent gets up for whatever reason, the other player must seize the opportunity to claim the chair. This means sitting on it. Carmen is of an Olympic standard in this competition. Mark didn’t stand a chance.

While we talked, the weather changed from sun to rain, to wind and back again. It really turned out to be a useless day. One moment we were tempted out of the house only to be chased back inside the next. Ghastly weather. Particularly during a drought.

We did manage to get out as far as the garden centre in the afternoon where we (read Mirinda) bought enough plants to keep me busy next week. This is how the patio table looked upon our return:

A table full of work

That’s me sorted then.

[with apologies to Gerald Durrell]

It was an odd day of heavy showers and brilliant sunshine; just perfect for housework. However, in terms of dog walking, timing was crucial.

Like Henri Charrière, counting waves, I roughly worked out the optimum time to harness the girls up and head for the park. We avoided getting wet and enjoyed a lovely sun drenched walk. Naturally we were careful to time the walk in order to get home before the next downpour – we made it by five minutes.

Given we were on a rather tight schedule, we decided to walk the length of the Avenue of Trees, admire the castle then back via Badgers Wood. At the beginning of the Avenue, is a small wood where the dogs always hurtle towards in the vague hope of finding something to chase (I assume) and today was no different. They flew like puppies and were gone within seconds.

As I kept walking – they always come out further down and meet me – I noticed a ginger cat, lying by a bench, soaking up the rays of the sun. It happened to be in the exact spot where the girls emerged from the wood. And so it was that to guide it, Carmen came belting out, running mere inches from the cat.

Clearly the cat had heard her coming and had pricked up its ears and lifted its head just as Carmen burst out of the undergrowth. It was on its feet instantly, looking left and right, weighing up its choices. Then, suddenly it leapt away, into the gap that Carmen had just vacated.

Meanwhile, Carmen had slammed on her brakes and was staring at the place the cat had just recently vacated. She looked around, wondering whether she had been hallucinating, deciding she hadn’t and raced back into the woods after the cat. I whistled and waited.

There were no screeches or hissing or barking and, eventually, Carmen burst out again, racing towards me, tail wagging like an outboard motor turned up to full. She reached me and jumped up, as if she’d won first prize at Crufts. I patted her and smiled, bemused as Day-z wandered out of the woods, having missed all the fun of the chase.

A few dogs crossed our path on the way to the castle and each time, the poodles barked then immediately backed off as the dogs stared them down. They are so anti-social!

Just before the castle, they spotted a squirrel sitting in the middle of the Avenue. They raced towards it, the squirrel watching them intently until the last moment when it dashed up a tree which was very close. Normally the poodles will run straight by any tree where a squirrel has taken shelter and end up at another one, staring up and wagging their tails, terribly pleased with their stupidity.

Today, however, they stopped at the right tree and just stood and watched as the squirrel climbed higher. As it went from branch to branch, the moved around the base of the tree, looking up, following its progress intently.

I stood and watched as they watched. I then noticed a movement further down the hill and watched a young deer emerge from the nettles. It stood, completely exposed, looking left and right, seemingly unsure of what to do. I slowly reached for the camera but it was a wake up to such privacy invasion and started running towards a large copse of trees.

Carmen somehow spotted the movement and was off. It was the funniest thing watching this tiny black dog hell bent on running down a deer. I’m not sure if she thought too much about the impossibility of her prey but it wasn’t slowing her up and she vanished into the trees scant seconds behind the deer.

Day-z suddenly realised her sister was gone. She looked left and right, confused. I pointed towards the trees and she was off in an effort to bring up reinforcement from the rear.

Now, I have no idea what went on in the copse of trees but I can say that a deer and two small poodles went in but only the poodles came back out. They were very puffed, tongues lolling, breathing like sprinters at the end of 100 metres.

The walk back was pretty peaceful until a whippet ran across Carmen’s path in Badgers Wood. She was too dazed to do anything…or perhaps she was just too exhausted to go for yet another run after a quarry she’d never catch. She just watched as it disappeared further into the woods.

We made it home and the heavens opened once more.