Friday 20 November 2015

Sometimes you open the door to shit....literally!

For those of a delicate nature or who just happen to be eating lunch - turn away now! For the rest of you - well you are warned.
I am sitting here in the middle of a freezing breeze in my kitchen contemplating the irony of eating the last of the chicken liver pate and trying hard not to giggle.
Life sometimes is just shit.
I arrived home not more than 45-minutes ago and it might as well be a lifetime. So much seems to have happened.
As I started to open the door I  think it was the stench that alerted me to the fact that all was not well in Denmark or indeed my kitchen.
Radio Four droned on oblivious.
I opened the door further, and heard a frantic scrabble, a scratching, a slightly wet thump and more scrabbling as whippet feet and whippet nails tried to gain purchase to launch themselves to greet me home.  The largest one was damp and in fact as I drew my hand away from him I realised that what I thought was damp was actually poo, very runny poo that was smeared all across his back and down one side; I stupidly ran my hand across my leg to get it off me at the same moment that I surveyed the scene in front of me.
Confusion can last a lifetime, similarly a heartbeat.
Before me lay a scene from Armageddon - it's the only way I can describe it - it didn't in the least look like my kitchen.
There was dog poop everywhere, splattered, splurged, splodged and smeared. There was even evidence of slippage which might explain the state of Jet Bag, the largest of my four whippets.
Having ascertained the problem and registered it, though not really acknowledged it, my first action was to open the patio doors and get the dogs outside fast. I left them ping ponging up and down outside. A thing they do often.
And that is when it the full impact of what had happened hit me.
At least two of my dogs had had the squits, possibly more, it was a little difficult to tell as evidence sort of ran together.
I vacated the scene swiftly to contemplate my next move and once outside the backdoor promptly burst into tears. It seemed the most logical thing to do - it hasn't been the most restful of weeks and this was the icing the cake - sorry...
However, a swift blub over and it was once more time to gird my loins and tackle the problem at hand. Donning a make-shift bio hazard suit made up of a pair of veterinary gloves, red wellington boots, waterproof trousers and a plastic festival cape, that I found rather fortuitously in my handbag, I was able to make in-roads on the kitchen floor.
And not long after I actually found it again.
Copious amounts of kitchen paper, capfuls of Miltons and a serious splash of lemon scented Flash later and the place is once more habitable.
Jet was manhandled towards the outside hose and while he was busy trying to snaffle a snack out of an old Kong I squirted him clean. I was extremely lucky and had him cornered for a good 10 seconds before he leapt out of the way, getting all the detritus off him. The art of these things is not to let the poop dry on the dog before you turn the hose on him.
As for me  well I stripped off as soon as, flung everything in the wash, dashed upstairs and got into the shower at full blast to strip away the lingering stench.
So now I am here in the kitchen, wrapped in clean towels eating the left overs from the fridge and it can only happen to me that I am eating what looks exactly what I have just cleaned up off the floor!
A toast to a shit life!

I leave you with a picture I took of a rose in my garden just before it turned cold so much more pleasant than a steaming pile of poo...

A Rose from the Garden - wish my kitchen could have smelled as sweet!

Thursday 19 November 2015

Walking in the Air and prepations for a big busk....

So if you are about Framlingham on Wednesday 16th December and you hear what you think just maybe sounds like a recorder version of "Walking in the Air" squeaking and souring its way to your ear - it probably is..."Walking in the Air" that is and yes it is also a recorder.
We are now officially starting to raise money for Young Epilepsy and the Bog Boy and the Big One are being forced to practice happily practising any piece they know that is remotely Christmassy for our first foray into the cut throat world of charity fund raising at Christmas.
We were hoping to get the Saturday market but a brass band beat us to it - well actually they are there every year and they are amazing - and to be honest the Framlingham Market would probably prefer us not to be about on a day so near to Christmas less we send potential shoppers fleeing to the relative safety of Saxmundham.
Or at least they think it safe - I have plans to stake out Waitrose in the Spring and someone has told me that Tesco can get quite a good crowd. Personally I reckon Lidl would be the best as everyone is always so happy when they come out of there either because they have actually managed to come out of there in one piece - did you see the mad rush to get the smoked almonds at the Thirsk branch last year? Made Black Friday look like a picnic in the park - or else those who do come out are so blooming pleased with themselves for getting such a bargain that they are incredibly generous.
Anyway back to the task at hand; preparations for the the Big Busk.
"Walking in the Air" is one, or used to be one, of my favourite Christmas tunes but following the rendition I heard today I may have to review that. The first bit is OK and if you hang in there and ride the pregnant pauses and close your ears to the inevitable note stumble, it's not that bad. You can recognise it - sort of. I'm hoping that with nigh on a month to go Bog Boy will clinch it. (I have bought my ear defenders and I will be overseeing practice both night and day #thethingswedo)
As for the Big One, he's channelling his inner Sally Army vibe and going large on his trombone with "Bring me Joy" following that up with a rather nifty Jingle Bells 'avec glissade' as long as I remember to buy the trombone oil and cleaning kit.
Which of course I forgot to do today...
So fair warning folks Framlingham Market, Wednesday 16th December - bring your ear defenders...I said BRING YOUR EAR.. oh never mind!

Meanwhile enjoy Walking In The Air as sung by Peter Auty from The Snowman. The wonderful animation was first shown on Channel Four in 1982. It is based on the comic book by Raymond Biggs which I had one Christmas in 1978. Much better though was Fungus the Bogey Man and very scarily When the Wind Blows which for anyone who lived through the 70s and 80s brings back the very real fear we had of a Nuclear War - ah such lovely thoughts and memories close to Christmas...

Go on you know you want to...


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