With the weather being so nice and it being a bank holiday weekend and cross-country footpaths being out of bounds, there are cyclists all over the roads. Great mobs of them, all garish lycra and pointy helmets, pedalling grimly along.
Driving to work today I came across one sprawled on the road next to his bike. I stopped.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
He moaned and rolled up on to his feet.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
Yes, that really does look like fun.
8 May 2001
7 May 2001
I'm wearing sandals! It's been hot three days in a row!!
Bertie isn't enjoying it much -- everywhere we go is infested with children. As for home ... it's dreadful. From what I deduce, it seems that from his point of view I've gone completely mad. I sit out in the boiling sun with the french doors wide open, completely ignoring the fact that the neighbours are making threatening noises from all sides. When he tries to deal with the situation by barking, I tell him off. Is that fair? NO. Much huffing, whining and pacing goes on while I'm reading the paper.
So we are getting into a slightly different routine. In the morning the field up the back is OK -- usually his pals Amber and Cassie are there, or sometimes Chloe. He has a great belt round after the rabbits and generally enjoys himself. In the afternoon, there are usually kids up there. Today by the time I caught up with Bertie he was barking his head off and the kids were sitting in a tree screeching.
"Is he a good dog?" one of them quavered. Oh yes, I told them, restraining a slavering Bertie. He's a very good dog.
While this was going on some more kids arrived, plus a very friendly woman who unfortunately had a large and terrifying plastic carrier bag in her hand. So we went down to the marina instead and looked at boats.
I have to do some work now.
Bertie isn't enjoying it much -- everywhere we go is infested with children. As for home ... it's dreadful. From what I deduce, it seems that from his point of view I've gone completely mad. I sit out in the boiling sun with the french doors wide open, completely ignoring the fact that the neighbours are making threatening noises from all sides. When he tries to deal with the situation by barking, I tell him off. Is that fair? NO. Much huffing, whining and pacing goes on while I'm reading the paper.
So we are getting into a slightly different routine. In the morning the field up the back is OK -- usually his pals Amber and Cassie are there, or sometimes Chloe. He has a great belt round after the rabbits and generally enjoys himself. In the afternoon, there are usually kids up there. Today by the time I caught up with Bertie he was barking his head off and the kids were sitting in a tree screeching.
"Is he a good dog?" one of them quavered. Oh yes, I told them, restraining a slavering Bertie. He's a very good dog.
While this was going on some more kids arrived, plus a very friendly woman who unfortunately had a large and terrifying plastic carrier bag in her hand. So we went down to the marina instead and looked at boats.
I have to do some work now.
4 May 2001
Today's Cute Dog Story isn't all that cute, it was nearly a tragedy.
In all the greyhound literature one thing is stressed: Never, ever, ever, let your dog off its leash on the road. Never.
So what did I do? Hmmm.
My excuse is that it was 2am, it was a dead end (down by the gate to the marina, which is locked at night), there was no traffic. So I let Bertie off for a little ramble. Just for a couple of minutes. Then I called him back. He looked at me, then started running down the road. Along which came a van.
I ran after him (stop laughing at the back), yelling "STOP!" Luckily he remembered what that means, and stopped dead in his tracks, in the middle of the road. The van driver stopped too, and turned off his headlights, bless him, while I grabbed Bertie, who thought this was a GREAT game. The driver and I had a great chat -- he was checking the bridge.
The reallly stupid part of this story (ok the stupid part was letting him off the lead, this is the other stupid part) is that at the beginning of the walk, Bertie had added yet another item to the growing list of Terrifying Things -- "unexpected furniture". There were three armchairs discarded outside the sheltered housing flats, and he was beside himself with fear when he saw them. Aieee! Look out! They might bite!
If only "oncoming traffic" was on the list.
This morning there was more excitement -- he expected the furniture this time, so it wasn't terrifying. What freaked him out was that when we came back from our walk, there were people sitting on the chairs!! Two special needs teenagers and their carer. Oh, and the carer was wearing sunglasses, also on the terror list. Matters were even more complicated because one of the boys got a bigger fright than Bertie and started to his feet with a yell. Terror all round, lots of soothing words.
I wonder if Bertie has high blood pressure?
In all the greyhound literature one thing is stressed: Never, ever, ever, let your dog off its leash on the road. Never.
So what did I do? Hmmm.
My excuse is that it was 2am, it was a dead end (down by the gate to the marina, which is locked at night), there was no traffic. So I let Bertie off for a little ramble. Just for a couple of minutes. Then I called him back. He looked at me, then started running down the road. Along which came a van.
I ran after him (stop laughing at the back), yelling "STOP!" Luckily he remembered what that means, and stopped dead in his tracks, in the middle of the road. The van driver stopped too, and turned off his headlights, bless him, while I grabbed Bertie, who thought this was a GREAT game. The driver and I had a great chat -- he was checking the bridge.
The reallly stupid part of this story (ok the stupid part was letting him off the lead, this is the other stupid part) is that at the beginning of the walk, Bertie had added yet another item to the growing list of Terrifying Things -- "unexpected furniture". There were three armchairs discarded outside the sheltered housing flats, and he was beside himself with fear when he saw them. Aieee! Look out! They might bite!
If only "oncoming traffic" was on the list.
This morning there was more excitement -- he expected the furniture this time, so it wasn't terrifying. What freaked him out was that when we came back from our walk, there were people sitting on the chairs!! Two special needs teenagers and their carer. Oh, and the carer was wearing sunglasses, also on the terror list. Matters were even more complicated because one of the boys got a bigger fright than Bertie and started to his feet with a yell. Terror all round, lots of soothing words.
I wonder if Bertie has high blood pressure?
PS: The weather was pretty good again today. In fact the weather's been so good the trains can't cope. An informant sent me this:
"Thousands of Scots had journeys delayed or cancelled on Wednesday after Railtrack imposed emergency speed restrictions on rail routes between South Gyle and Dalmeny, near Edinburgh.
Railtrack claimed the speed limits were vital because the early summer sunshine had caused the steel rails to warp – making it dangerous for trains to run at normal speed.
The average temperature in the area at the time when Railtrack imposed speed restrictions was just 12C with a high of 17C, and last night experts said they were amazed that such mild weather could have such devastating effects.
The restrictions led to delays on 72 train services operated by Scotrail as they were forced to trundle along the ‘overheated’ tracks at speeds of just 20mph.
Some trains took as long as 50 minutes for a journey along just three miles of track that normally takes only a few minutes.
Railtrack however refused to apologise for the delays and insisted the unseasonal sunshine was to blame.
Spokesman Simon McMillan said: ‘It is a common problem that arrives with the spring sunshine as the metal can warp when the weather heats up then cools down.
‘The speed restrictions were imposed as a precautionary measure for safety reasons and we then took action to alter the rails to stop any more problems.
‘Track metal expands in the heat, especially when sunlight falls directly on the track. The lack of wind was a problem on Wednesday, which means the track didn’t get cooled down.
He explained that rails are normally adjusted with the changing seasons to ensure that the track stays true whatever the weather, but that the unseasonal sunshine had caught them unawares."
Makes you wonder how they get on in India.
"Thousands of Scots had journeys delayed or cancelled on Wednesday after Railtrack imposed emergency speed restrictions on rail routes between South Gyle and Dalmeny, near Edinburgh.
Railtrack claimed the speed limits were vital because the early summer sunshine had caused the steel rails to warp – making it dangerous for trains to run at normal speed.
The average temperature in the area at the time when Railtrack imposed speed restrictions was just 12C with a high of 17C, and last night experts said they were amazed that such mild weather could have such devastating effects.
The restrictions led to delays on 72 train services operated by Scotrail as they were forced to trundle along the ‘overheated’ tracks at speeds of just 20mph.
Some trains took as long as 50 minutes for a journey along just three miles of track that normally takes only a few minutes.
Railtrack however refused to apologise for the delays and insisted the unseasonal sunshine was to blame.
Spokesman Simon McMillan said: ‘It is a common problem that arrives with the spring sunshine as the metal can warp when the weather heats up then cools down.
‘The speed restrictions were imposed as a precautionary measure for safety reasons and we then took action to alter the rails to stop any more problems.
‘Track metal expands in the heat, especially when sunlight falls directly on the track. The lack of wind was a problem on Wednesday, which means the track didn’t get cooled down.
He explained that rails are normally adjusted with the changing seasons to ensure that the track stays true whatever the weather, but that the unseasonal sunshine had caught them unawares."
Makes you wonder how they get on in India.
I got a tripod today for my camera, because I want to try taking some night-time shots of the bridges and the river. I love these late-night walks, it's so quiet and the river has all manner of moods.
The other night I walked under the road bridge and really wanted to take a picture from the other side. It was still and clear, but the bridge is always humming with traffic. At night the pylons fade away and it's just a beautiful curve of lights, with a delicate under-hatching of ironwork. It leaps across the river and away, a space-age promise, as if it's not just taking you to Fife but to the rocket base where you'll board a shuttle flight to Mars. Yes, I read science fiction at an impressionable age.
Further along there's the rail bridge, which has recently been floodlit. I don't like the effect much -- it's harsh, accenting the bridge's angularity rather than its sort of sinuous look. Oddly enough they floodlit it once before, for its centenary, but took down the lights after a year, and that was more successful. However, the new lighting still makes pretty patterns on the water and I'd like to try and photograph it.
The other night I walked under the road bridge and really wanted to take a picture from the other side. It was still and clear, but the bridge is always humming with traffic. At night the pylons fade away and it's just a beautiful curve of lights, with a delicate under-hatching of ironwork. It leaps across the river and away, a space-age promise, as if it's not just taking you to Fife but to the rocket base where you'll board a shuttle flight to Mars. Yes, I read science fiction at an impressionable age.
Further along there's the rail bridge, which has recently been floodlit. I don't like the effect much -- it's harsh, accenting the bridge's angularity rather than its sort of sinuous look. Oddly enough they floodlit it once before, for its centenary, but took down the lights after a year, and that was more successful. However, the new lighting still makes pretty patterns on the water and I'd like to try and photograph it.
3 May 2001
Coming soon: the whole roll of pictures I took of guess who. He looks gorgeous, of course.
Getting the photos developed was something of an ordeal. Over a week ago I took the film to the place I normally go to. But there was a queue and I was illegally parked, so I thought well I get it done later. Hah, yeah right.
Finally on Monday, I zipped in to a Boots for the overnight service. But that wasn't going to be ready until Wednesday, so I said well ok I'll have the three-day service (there's no two-day). So this morning I went in on the way to get my hair done (my hairdresser's a dog man) and oh dear, they couldn't find the photos. According to the electronic system they had been developed, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They took a note of my name and number and said they'd ring.
After the hair appointment I went back to Boots. Still no sign of the pictures, and also no sign of the man who'd taken my details OR of my details. As I stood watching the assistant search the bin of packets of photos, a woman standing patiently waiting to be served said to me: "Don't you just wish you could have a look yourself?" And it's true, I had been thinking that very thing. You know how sometimes you can just tell someone's not being thorough? Frustrating. So I left my details again and went home.
Took Bertie for a burn up on the hill, where we met Chloe and her owner. Bertie and Chloe get on famously, though Bertie's inclined to sniff her bum just that little bit too long. Once she'd sorted him out on that score they settled down and played nicely, while the owner and I chatted. I'd taken my mobile up there, and sure enough Boots phoned to say they'd found the photos. Apparently the packet had slipped to the bottom of the bin, it was there all the time. Grrrr.
When I arrived half an hour later they were full of apologies and gave me a 50% discount, so I consented to be gracious. But it did make me wish I'd given in to my gut feeling and just barged in to look for myself.
Amusing Bertie story: At 2am this morning we were walking along the High St when something caught his attention in a big way. When I looked at what he was staring at, all I could see was a big splash of something darkish, like spilled soft drink. Bertie was acting spooked/interested/puzzled, sniffing and staring though, so I had a closer look. What was it? Dried blood? Fox pee? Alien pee?
I noticed there was a kind of texture to it and peered closer.
Ants. Dozens of tiny, tiny ants, barely visible.
It must have looked so weird, a woman and a dog at 2am, staring intently at an empty footpath, then the woman laughing out loud.
Getting the photos developed was something of an ordeal. Over a week ago I took the film to the place I normally go to. But there was a queue and I was illegally parked, so I thought well I get it done later. Hah, yeah right.
Finally on Monday, I zipped in to a Boots for the overnight service. But that wasn't going to be ready until Wednesday, so I said well ok I'll have the three-day service (there's no two-day). So this morning I went in on the way to get my hair done (my hairdresser's a dog man) and oh dear, they couldn't find the photos. According to the electronic system they had been developed, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They took a note of my name and number and said they'd ring.
After the hair appointment I went back to Boots. Still no sign of the pictures, and also no sign of the man who'd taken my details OR of my details. As I stood watching the assistant search the bin of packets of photos, a woman standing patiently waiting to be served said to me: "Don't you just wish you could have a look yourself?" And it's true, I had been thinking that very thing. You know how sometimes you can just tell someone's not being thorough? Frustrating. So I left my details again and went home.
Took Bertie for a burn up on the hill, where we met Chloe and her owner. Bertie and Chloe get on famously, though Bertie's inclined to sniff her bum just that little bit too long. Once she'd sorted him out on that score they settled down and played nicely, while the owner and I chatted. I'd taken my mobile up there, and sure enough Boots phoned to say they'd found the photos. Apparently the packet had slipped to the bottom of the bin, it was there all the time. Grrrr.
When I arrived half an hour later they were full of apologies and gave me a 50% discount, so I consented to be gracious. But it did make me wish I'd given in to my gut feeling and just barged in to look for myself.
Amusing Bertie story: At 2am this morning we were walking along the High St when something caught his attention in a big way. When I looked at what he was staring at, all I could see was a big splash of something darkish, like spilled soft drink. Bertie was acting spooked/interested/puzzled, sniffing and staring though, so I had a closer look. What was it? Dried blood? Fox pee? Alien pee?
I noticed there was a kind of texture to it and peered closer.
Ants. Dozens of tiny, tiny ants, barely visible.
It must have looked so weird, a woman and a dog at 2am, staring intently at an empty footpath, then the woman laughing out loud.
2 May 2001
Happy May, everyone! It being May, we are now having our summer, which lasts between two days and two weeks and is referred to constantly until September in remarks like "But it was nice for a while in May, remember that?" So far we've had two days, yesterday and today. It's hot, sunny and gorgeous. Flowers are bursting out everywhere -- the narcissi in my front garden are finally out.
It wasn't hot and sunny at the weekend, however, because that was still April. I did a sailing course at the marina, dinghy improvers, and it was superb. There was just enough wind and the weather, while cold, wasn't foul. It didn't rain, and on Sunday afternoon the sky was a perfect blue, dotted with big white puffy clouds, like cartoon clouds.
Wayfarer
There were six of us on the course, plus two instructors. Saturday morning we took out three dinghies, Wayfarers (see pic above), sailed around and around a triangle of buoys and discovered we were all about the same level of crapness. In the afternoon we had a bit of theory and a go in a "static" boat set up on tyres in the boatshed. Then we went back out on the water and found we had all improved remarkably. We did coming alongside (speeding up and slowing down, basically), which I managed really well.
Sunday morning we were out in the Wayfarers again, this time with spinnakers, a tricky business. Then in the afternoon we changed into wetsuits and took out two single-handers, both Topazes (see below) and two bigger dinghies, Laser Stratos this time, and swapped over. I was mainly in a Topaz, enjoying it too -- it's what I'll mainly be sailing in this year. But then Anna collected me in the inflatable & took me for a joyride before depositing me in a Stratos with Marilyn. What a fantastic boat that is! It's brand new, which added to the thrill, but it's also light and responsive, really good to sail.
Topaz
Laser Stratos
I'm also quite sold on the idea of sailing in a wetsuit. Marilyn was the only other woman on the course (apart from the instructors) and we got quite hysterical hopping around getting ourselves squeezed into the suits. But once I managed to get the zip up, I found it really comfy, and warm too. I may lash out and get one. It's rarely ever too hot on the Forth for a wetsuit!
Monday I went and did some more gardening with Chad, the colleague who's been ill. He's feeling a lot better so he did some light hoeing while I did the heavier spadework. It rained a bit, but nothing serious. I came away with a great haul of produce: parsnips, leeks, rhubarb and some more currant plants. Tuesday Philippa (cousin Brian's daughter) came to lunch and to say goodbye. She's off on a tour of Scotland for a week, then away back to NZ via several months in Africa. After she left I got stuck in to my own garden, weeding and planting. I began digging up the deceased fuschia, but discovered signs of life -- tiny green shoots emerging from the root. So I quickly replanted it, hope it survives.
Today I took Bertie on a visit to the cat and dog home. He found it deeply alarming, he wouldn't go in at first. He was recognised and much fussed over -- he's put on a little weight and his coat is much softer and shinier, he's looking really good. I was there to collect another 15kg bag of dog food, he's nearly finished the first one.
On then to the optician, where I picked up my new glasses and dropped off my old ones to be turned into -- reading glasses. I'm old, it's official.
Bertie attracts lots of attention in town -- people literally stop and stare, or rush up and ask questions. "Magic dog!" one fellow shouted. He is, he's magic. Poor dog, he hated it though -- too hot, too many people, too much traffic. He couldn't wait to get back to the car.
Uh oh ... I see big black clouds looming. A two-day summer then. Ah well.
It wasn't hot and sunny at the weekend, however, because that was still April. I did a sailing course at the marina, dinghy improvers, and it was superb. There was just enough wind and the weather, while cold, wasn't foul. It didn't rain, and on Sunday afternoon the sky was a perfect blue, dotted with big white puffy clouds, like cartoon clouds.
Wayfarer
There were six of us on the course, plus two instructors. Saturday morning we took out three dinghies, Wayfarers (see pic above), sailed around and around a triangle of buoys and discovered we were all about the same level of crapness. In the afternoon we had a bit of theory and a go in a "static" boat set up on tyres in the boatshed. Then we went back out on the water and found we had all improved remarkably. We did coming alongside (speeding up and slowing down, basically), which I managed really well.
Sunday morning we were out in the Wayfarers again, this time with spinnakers, a tricky business. Then in the afternoon we changed into wetsuits and took out two single-handers, both Topazes (see below) and two bigger dinghies, Laser Stratos this time, and swapped over. I was mainly in a Topaz, enjoying it too -- it's what I'll mainly be sailing in this year. But then Anna collected me in the inflatable & took me for a joyride before depositing me in a Stratos with Marilyn. What a fantastic boat that is! It's brand new, which added to the thrill, but it's also light and responsive, really good to sail.
Topaz
Laser Stratos
I'm also quite sold on the idea of sailing in a wetsuit. Marilyn was the only other woman on the course (apart from the instructors) and we got quite hysterical hopping around getting ourselves squeezed into the suits. But once I managed to get the zip up, I found it really comfy, and warm too. I may lash out and get one. It's rarely ever too hot on the Forth for a wetsuit!
Monday I went and did some more gardening with Chad, the colleague who's been ill. He's feeling a lot better so he did some light hoeing while I did the heavier spadework. It rained a bit, but nothing serious. I came away with a great haul of produce: parsnips, leeks, rhubarb and some more currant plants. Tuesday Philippa (cousin Brian's daughter) came to lunch and to say goodbye. She's off on a tour of Scotland for a week, then away back to NZ via several months in Africa. After she left I got stuck in to my own garden, weeding and planting. I began digging up the deceased fuschia, but discovered signs of life -- tiny green shoots emerging from the root. So I quickly replanted it, hope it survives.
Today I took Bertie on a visit to the cat and dog home. He found it deeply alarming, he wouldn't go in at first. He was recognised and much fussed over -- he's put on a little weight and his coat is much softer and shinier, he's looking really good. I was there to collect another 15kg bag of dog food, he's nearly finished the first one.
On then to the optician, where I picked up my new glasses and dropped off my old ones to be turned into -- reading glasses. I'm old, it's official.
Bertie attracts lots of attention in town -- people literally stop and stare, or rush up and ask questions. "Magic dog!" one fellow shouted. He is, he's magic. Poor dog, he hated it though -- too hot, too many people, too much traffic. He couldn't wait to get back to the car.
Uh oh ... I see big black clouds looming. A two-day summer then. Ah well.
24 April 2001
23 April 2001
Busy busy busy weekend (by my slacker standards), nothing like having a visitor (Liz) to rouse me out of my rural fastness. On Saturday we went on the Maid of the Forth launch trip to Inchcolm. I thought it was mainly a launch trip, but it turned out to be mainly Inchcolm. We had an hour and a half there, tramping around looking at ruins and seagulls. Favourite bit: squeezing up a tiny, insanely claustrophobic stone spiral staircase and a flight of steep creaky wooden steps to reach the top of the tower. It has a dangerously low outer wall and oddly the protective railing is on the inner wall. An anxious father yelled at his 6-ish daughter: "Hold on to the rail, darling!" as she raced ahead. She humoured him by trailing a finger along the uprights.
Saturday night we went to A Hard Day's Night, major nostalgia fest for me. Those sweet boys, they were so nice and clean and well-spoken it's hard to believe they were seen as a threat to civilisation.
Sunday was wet and soggy but we stirred ourselves and took Bertie for a run on Arthur's Seat, which he loved of course. He covered four or five times the ground we did, and at top speed most of the way. After a rest break back home, we set out again -- this time for dinner (at Maison Bleue) followed by a ghost walk.
The tour started out at St Giles but moved briskly to South Niddrie St, the close on the other side of where I used to live! I used to look out the kitchen window at the tour groups standing below, listening to theatrical lies. And here I was in the tour group, and someone else lives in my old flat. Weird. It was interesting to see what the company has done with the vaults under South Bridge -- I noticed the tour guide didn't mention that their excavations had reduced the bridge's strength by an estimated 18%. Not a comforting statistic when you're right underneath the bridge! It was a good tour though, very interesting and some cracking yarns.
Today Liz left on the train and poor Bertie is in mourning. He loves her soooo much! And so do I. She is lovely! Oh, and if you're reading this Liz, you left your phone transformer thingie behind and I'll mail it to you. Thanks for the phone money, you're sweet!
I have to do more work.
Saturday night we went to A Hard Day's Night, major nostalgia fest for me. Those sweet boys, they were so nice and clean and well-spoken it's hard to believe they were seen as a threat to civilisation.
Sunday was wet and soggy but we stirred ourselves and took Bertie for a run on Arthur's Seat, which he loved of course. He covered four or five times the ground we did, and at top speed most of the way. After a rest break back home, we set out again -- this time for dinner (at Maison Bleue) followed by a ghost walk.
The tour started out at St Giles but moved briskly to South Niddrie St, the close on the other side of where I used to live! I used to look out the kitchen window at the tour groups standing below, listening to theatrical lies. And here I was in the tour group, and someone else lives in my old flat. Weird. It was interesting to see what the company has done with the vaults under South Bridge -- I noticed the tour guide didn't mention that their excavations had reduced the bridge's strength by an estimated 18%. Not a comforting statistic when you're right underneath the bridge! It was a good tour though, very interesting and some cracking yarns.
Today Liz left on the train and poor Bertie is in mourning. He loves her soooo much! And so do I. She is lovely! Oh, and if you're reading this Liz, you left your phone transformer thingie behind and I'll mail it to you. Thanks for the phone money, you're sweet!
I have to do more work.
18 April 2001
Hey, it worked! (See below.) I'm chuffed. Expect more pictures.
I was also chuffed with myself over another achievement today: I mended the bed!! It was quite complicated, I had to disassemble the frame, reposition some metal bits and put the whole thing back together. It's a slat-type bed, and the plank down the middle keeping the slats from springing loose had ripped out of one end. Bertie paced around nervously the whole time I was working on it, presumably afraid that this burst of strange activity meant yet another drastic change in his life.
I also cleaned some more -- the house is gleaming! -- and even mowed the lawn in between snow showers. Yes, it snowed. Hard to scotch some of these scotch myths.
Bertie had a good day too, apart from the bed thing. He's off the sick list and had his first go at the rabbits for ages. Don't worry though, the rabbits are in no danger. First one dashed under a bush briefly, then sped out and across the field to a patch of blackberry. Bertie saw it go under the bush, but didn't see it leave, even though I was pointing at it and shouting, "It went that way, you idiot!" The second one took him completely by surprise but he hurtled after it gamely before giving up. Chasing the third one he disappeared, and to my horror came back with blood all around his mouth. He'd only been out of sight for a couple of minutes, not long enough to eat a rabbit, surely?
Turned out he'd scratched his chin on a bramble -- it was HIS blood.
Some boys were up in the field this morning, working on the cycle track they're creating. Two were digging out a dip in one of the paths and a younger one was chopping back hawthorn and blackberry along the main path. They're making it quite elaborate, with jumps and hollows, a proper circuit. I hope there's not friction with dog-walkers over it -- I think it's great even though when the kids are biking around there I have to put Bertie on the lead in case he's run over; it's a good safe place for kids to play and they're being really enterprising in creating a run. But people can get huffy if they see kids having fun that hasn't been "properly" organised.
I keep forgetting to take my rubbish bag up there -- it's horribly easy to fill one up, no effort at all. Next time.
I was also chuffed with myself over another achievement today: I mended the bed!! It was quite complicated, I had to disassemble the frame, reposition some metal bits and put the whole thing back together. It's a slat-type bed, and the plank down the middle keeping the slats from springing loose had ripped out of one end. Bertie paced around nervously the whole time I was working on it, presumably afraid that this burst of strange activity meant yet another drastic change in his life.
I also cleaned some more -- the house is gleaming! -- and even mowed the lawn in between snow showers. Yes, it snowed. Hard to scotch some of these scotch myths.
Bertie had a good day too, apart from the bed thing. He's off the sick list and had his first go at the rabbits for ages. Don't worry though, the rabbits are in no danger. First one dashed under a bush briefly, then sped out and across the field to a patch of blackberry. Bertie saw it go under the bush, but didn't see it leave, even though I was pointing at it and shouting, "It went that way, you idiot!" The second one took him completely by surprise but he hurtled after it gamely before giving up. Chasing the third one he disappeared, and to my horror came back with blood all around his mouth. He'd only been out of sight for a couple of minutes, not long enough to eat a rabbit, surely?
Turned out he'd scratched his chin on a bramble -- it was HIS blood.
Some boys were up in the field this morning, working on the cycle track they're creating. Two were digging out a dip in one of the paths and a younger one was chopping back hawthorn and blackberry along the main path. They're making it quite elaborate, with jumps and hollows, a proper circuit. I hope there's not friction with dog-walkers over it -- I think it's great even though when the kids are biking around there I have to put Bertie on the lead in case he's run over; it's a good safe place for kids to play and they're being really enterprising in creating a run. But people can get huffy if they see kids having fun that hasn't been "properly" organised.
I keep forgetting to take my rubbish bag up there -- it's horribly easy to fill one up, no effort at all. Next time.
16 April 2001
Lovely sunny day and here I am at work. Sigh. I've been house-prouding today; went to the supermarket, cleaned up a bit, thought about mowing the lawn (one case where it's not the thought that counts). At the supermarket I bought a new cleaning product, As Recommended By Anthea. "I can't believe we're having a conversation about cleaning products," I said. "No, but it's REALLY good!" And so it is. It's a funny light little mop thingie, with little thin cloths that attach easily, and you just waft it around the floor in a half-hearted way and it cleans completely by magic. It hardly feels like housework at all.
Also went for a couple of short walks with Bertie, one of which was very entertaining. First of all we met two old girls from up the street, one is Florence (from memory), the other Bridie. Bridie has a short stout terrier, Butch, who growled at Bertie. "It's just that he's been attacked," explained Bridie. "You know the woman with the three dogs? One of them attacked Butch." After a lovely chat we parted company. And who should we meet on our way home but the woman with the three dogs -- the chow and the two akitas. We stopped for a chat, in the course of which I mentioned Bertie's sweet, submissive nature. "Not like a lot of those little dogs!" she said. "There's one in the street, very aggressive .. mind you, she [indicating an akita] attacked him so I don't suppose he's so ready to have a go at a bigger dog..."
Heh.
One more cute doggie story: Bertie has twigged that I'm feeding the birds with, like, FOOD. He was hopping around the garden on his hinders this morning trying to get the peanut feeders off the tree.
Also went for a couple of short walks with Bertie, one of which was very entertaining. First of all we met two old girls from up the street, one is Florence (from memory), the other Bridie. Bridie has a short stout terrier, Butch, who growled at Bertie. "It's just that he's been attacked," explained Bridie. "You know the woman with the three dogs? One of them attacked Butch." After a lovely chat we parted company. And who should we meet on our way home but the woman with the three dogs -- the chow and the two akitas. We stopped for a chat, in the course of which I mentioned Bertie's sweet, submissive nature. "Not like a lot of those little dogs!" she said. "There's one in the street, very aggressive .. mind you, she [indicating an akita] attacked him so I don't suppose he's so ready to have a go at a bigger dog..."
Heh.
One more cute doggie story: Bertie has twigged that I'm feeding the birds with, like, FOOD. He was hopping around the garden on his hinders this morning trying to get the peanut feeders off the tree.
14 April 2001
Happy Easter.
Bertie's Weekend of Bliss turned to Weekend of Boredom with yesterday's visit to the vet. He was there for his vaccination shot but I mentioned the sore leg and now he's on a course of anti-inflamatories and confined to quarters apart from toilet walks. I'm not popular.
I had Wednesday and Thursday off as well as Friday, so we went for a super-brilliant romp from Elie to St Monans and back, along the coast path. The only bad bit for Bertie was that I refused to magically open the fence to let him at some slow-looking rabbits hopping around a field. Not only that, I put him on the leash and hauled him away from the fence. Spoil sport.
Thursday I did some gardening for Chad, very pleasant -- it was cloudy and cool, perfect for gardening, I reckon. Friday there was the visit to the vet. Not only does he have the sore leg, Bertie has conjunctivitis as well! I'm a bad owner, I hadn't even noticed. I have to bathe his eyes in warm salty water and put ointment in them (both of which he hates). After lunch Anthea and I went back to Ikea for more shelves etc. I spent the evening building things and rearranging things. The results are practical but not attractive, I have to say. Well, too bad.
Today I took Bertie on a slightly extended toilet walk -- we went along the jetty at the marina, which we both enjoyed. It was very windy, and choppy with it, so there weren't many people out. A lot of sailors are still busy getting their boats ready for the off, so the marina's abuzz with activity. I bought a tide table at the chandlery.
Back to work tomorrow, ugh. Only one page though, so should be ok.
Bertie's Weekend of Bliss turned to Weekend of Boredom with yesterday's visit to the vet. He was there for his vaccination shot but I mentioned the sore leg and now he's on a course of anti-inflamatories and confined to quarters apart from toilet walks. I'm not popular.
I had Wednesday and Thursday off as well as Friday, so we went for a super-brilliant romp from Elie to St Monans and back, along the coast path. The only bad bit for Bertie was that I refused to magically open the fence to let him at some slow-looking rabbits hopping around a field. Not only that, I put him on the leash and hauled him away from the fence. Spoil sport.
Thursday I did some gardening for Chad, very pleasant -- it was cloudy and cool, perfect for gardening, I reckon. Friday there was the visit to the vet. Not only does he have the sore leg, Bertie has conjunctivitis as well! I'm a bad owner, I hadn't even noticed. I have to bathe his eyes in warm salty water and put ointment in them (both of which he hates). After lunch Anthea and I went back to Ikea for more shelves etc. I spent the evening building things and rearranging things. The results are practical but not attractive, I have to say. Well, too bad.
Today I took Bertie on a slightly extended toilet walk -- we went along the jetty at the marina, which we both enjoyed. It was very windy, and choppy with it, so there weren't many people out. A lot of sailors are still busy getting their boats ready for the off, so the marina's abuzz with activity. I bought a tide table at the chandlery.
Back to work tomorrow, ugh. Only one page though, so should be ok.
10 April 2001
Today I found out Bertie's racing name: Hardtobehumble. For those who don't know it, here's the song:
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way
I can't wait to look in the mirror
Cuz I get better lookin each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a hell of a man
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
But I'm doin' the best that I can
There's more, about girlfriends and skin tight blue jeans, it's a hoot. Oh and it's country, in case you couldn't tell.
I tried the name out on him (not exactly catchy: "Here, Hardtobehumble!") and it didn't raise a response. So Bertie it is.
The Retired Greyhounds Trust also told me he's Irish, and was born in 1997 -- the day after my birthday!!! Spoooooky.
I went clothes shopping today, sigh. I got a black silk shirt (handwash only -- why do I torment myself with such garments?) and two t-shirts. Marks & Spencer is so depressing now. I used to get most of my clothes there, but they changed their sizing system with a great tantara and now nothing fits me. "I'm normal!" squealed the fat woman in the M&S advert, standing naked on a hilltop. She's naked because M&S changed their sizing system and nothing fits her. It's maddening. I'm wearing size 16 M&S jeans, but today tried on a size 18 shirt that was a joke. I could barely get it buttoned up, and it was so tight in the sleeves and across the back that I couldn't raise my arms. I left feeling monstrous. I got the shirt in Wallis, which doesn't make a big deal about its bigger sizes.
I don't think the shopping experience was unrelated to the road rage incident I got involved in a little later on. The road rager was another driver, a White Van Man, but I wound my window down and gave him a piece of my mind. He was punching the window of the car in front of me at the time, so it was quite reckless of me to have a go. He started to come at me (I wound my window up so fast I nearly sprained my wrist) but backed off -- I guess when he saw how enormously fat I am (smirk).
You want details? Oh go on then. When I became aware of the white van it was driving very, very slowly down the Cowgate ahead of the Polo (or similar) in front of me. Polo man tooted. White Van Man slowed further. Polo tooted again. White Van stopped without signalling. Polo signalled and pulled round ahead of White Van. White Van accelerated in a cloud of black smoke, sitting on Polo's tail, flashing his brights, generally acting like a maniac. Then, in the face of heavy oncoming traffic, White Van pulled round Polo at speed and stopped sharply in front of him. White Van Man got out and started ranting and pounding on the Polo, which is when I wound my window down and let him have it.
Men are WEIRD.
I did enjoy venting my rage though, it felt great. And without endangering anyone but myself! I'm so socially responsible. It was right by the close where I used to live as well, so conceivably my old neighbours were there saying, man she hasn't changed a bit.
Tomorrow I'm going to Elie, on the Fife coast. It has lovely beaches for Bertie to run on. I'll take a picnic lunch. It won't rain, it just won't.
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way
I can't wait to look in the mirror
Cuz I get better lookin each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a hell of a man
Oh Lord it's hard to be humble
But I'm doin' the best that I can
There's more, about girlfriends and skin tight blue jeans, it's a hoot. Oh and it's country, in case you couldn't tell.
I tried the name out on him (not exactly catchy: "Here, Hardtobehumble!") and it didn't raise a response. So Bertie it is.
The Retired Greyhounds Trust also told me he's Irish, and was born in 1997 -- the day after my birthday!!! Spoooooky.
I went clothes shopping today, sigh. I got a black silk shirt (handwash only -- why do I torment myself with such garments?) and two t-shirts. Marks & Spencer is so depressing now. I used to get most of my clothes there, but they changed their sizing system with a great tantara and now nothing fits me. "I'm normal!" squealed the fat woman in the M&S advert, standing naked on a hilltop. She's naked because M&S changed their sizing system and nothing fits her. It's maddening. I'm wearing size 16 M&S jeans, but today tried on a size 18 shirt that was a joke. I could barely get it buttoned up, and it was so tight in the sleeves and across the back that I couldn't raise my arms. I left feeling monstrous. I got the shirt in Wallis, which doesn't make a big deal about its bigger sizes.
I don't think the shopping experience was unrelated to the road rage incident I got involved in a little later on. The road rager was another driver, a White Van Man, but I wound my window down and gave him a piece of my mind. He was punching the window of the car in front of me at the time, so it was quite reckless of me to have a go. He started to come at me (I wound my window up so fast I nearly sprained my wrist) but backed off -- I guess when he saw how enormously fat I am (smirk).
You want details? Oh go on then. When I became aware of the white van it was driving very, very slowly down the Cowgate ahead of the Polo (or similar) in front of me. Polo man tooted. White Van Man slowed further. Polo tooted again. White Van stopped without signalling. Polo signalled and pulled round ahead of White Van. White Van accelerated in a cloud of black smoke, sitting on Polo's tail, flashing his brights, generally acting like a maniac. Then, in the face of heavy oncoming traffic, White Van pulled round Polo at speed and stopped sharply in front of him. White Van Man got out and started ranting and pounding on the Polo, which is when I wound my window down and let him have it.
Men are WEIRD.
I did enjoy venting my rage though, it felt great. And without endangering anyone but myself! I'm so socially responsible. It was right by the close where I used to live as well, so conceivably my old neighbours were there saying, man she hasn't changed a bit.
Tomorrow I'm going to Elie, on the Fife coast. It has lovely beaches for Bertie to run on. I'll take a picnic lunch. It won't rain, it just won't.
8 April 2001
Forgot to mention a frustration from yesterday: I hauled the two packets of planks to the carpet warehouse only to have my refund request rejected. They belong to the insurance company, ha, of course! So the firm can't give ME the money. So I had to haul them back again. Grinding my teeth because I still haven't heard back from the insurance company regarding my letter about the £100 they owe me.
Once again: where is the karmic kickback for being such an honest, upright citizen over the Persian rug? Don't tell me the universe is using it to offset previous sins! Unfair, seriously unfair.
Once again: where is the karmic kickback for being such an honest, upright citizen over the Persian rug? Don't tell me the universe is using it to offset previous sins! Unfair, seriously unfair.
The Guardian | Simple as falling off a blog For those of you who've asked about Blogger, here's a good article explaining it all. Get blogging! It's fun!
In other news: today I visited Chad (a colleague, not the country), who's just been in hospital. Anthea came too, and I took Bertie along for the ride.
Yet another bad idea.
Poor Bertie, life is just one trauma after another. This time the horrorshow was coming up to Chad's house and seeing his three huskies lined up in the picture window, all howling and yowling and generally making like wolves. There was no way in the world Bertie was going in to that house, no way. So I had to take him back to the car and leave him there for an hour or so.
I moved the car in to some shade -- the sun had come out -- and left the windows cracked open, but I still worried. Greyhounds can't regulate their body heat and are particularly prone to heat exhaustion. I stopped at a pet shop on the way home to get him some dog biscuits as an apology -- and to give him the thrill of walking down aisles loaded with sacks of dog food, treats and toys (Britain, doncha love it, you can take your dog anywhere).
I'm not doing too badly in the Getting My Life Organised business. I've drawn up a few lists, sent off for a quote for fencing the back yard, done nearly all my laundry and ... um, walked the dog.
In other news: today I visited Chad (a colleague, not the country), who's just been in hospital. Anthea came too, and I took Bertie along for the ride.
Yet another bad idea.
Poor Bertie, life is just one trauma after another. This time the horrorshow was coming up to Chad's house and seeing his three huskies lined up in the picture window, all howling and yowling and generally making like wolves. There was no way in the world Bertie was going in to that house, no way. So I had to take him back to the car and leave him there for an hour or so.
I moved the car in to some shade -- the sun had come out -- and left the windows cracked open, but I still worried. Greyhounds can't regulate their body heat and are particularly prone to heat exhaustion. I stopped at a pet shop on the way home to get him some dog biscuits as an apology -- and to give him the thrill of walking down aisles loaded with sacks of dog food, treats and toys (Britain, doncha love it, you can take your dog anywhere).
I'm not doing too badly in the Getting My Life Organised business. I've drawn up a few lists, sent off for a quote for fencing the back yard, done nearly all my laundry and ... um, walked the dog.
7 April 2001
The A_ward This looks interesting. It's a journal ring, one of the journals I read regularly (The Jon-Jon Diaries) is on it.
"We want journals that don't drone on about John and Sally's relationship going downhill or how ignorant your parents are. We want journals that include the world around us. In writing, in pictures, or both.
"There's a world behind that computer monitor of yours, and on the A_ward we want to hear about it. Observers, that's what we need. Journals with an eye for everyday madness. Or beauty. And the consequences of it on whatever personal level."
I love reading online journals, there are three or four I read slavishly. The ones I like pretty much follow the criteria above. I'm too chicken to write like that, because reading journals regularly like I do, I've heard some real car-crash stories about the consequences. One guy lost his job directly through stuff he wrote in his journal, lots of people get hate-mail from total strangers.
So from me, pretty much all you will get is DIY, cute dog stories and weather reports. Oh, and sailing stories once I'm out on the water. You'll just have to imagine all the real exciting, juicy stuff I'm leaving out ...
"We want journals that don't drone on about John and Sally's relationship going downhill or how ignorant your parents are. We want journals that include the world around us. In writing, in pictures, or both.
"There's a world behind that computer monitor of yours, and on the A_ward we want to hear about it. Observers, that's what we need. Journals with an eye for everyday madness. Or beauty. And the consequences of it on whatever personal level."
I love reading online journals, there are three or four I read slavishly. The ones I like pretty much follow the criteria above. I'm too chicken to write like that, because reading journals regularly like I do, I've heard some real car-crash stories about the consequences. One guy lost his job directly through stuff he wrote in his journal, lots of people get hate-mail from total strangers.
So from me, pretty much all you will get is DIY, cute dog stories and weather reports. Oh, and sailing stories once I'm out on the water. You'll just have to imagine all the real exciting, juicy stuff I'm leaving out ...
6 April 2001
Another rabbit encounter: way up ahead I saw a rabbit speed across the path, followed by Bertie. Two beats later, the rabbit ran back across the path, followed once again by Bertie. I couldn't believe my eyes -- the rabbit doubled back and Bertie STILL didn't catch it. Mind you, he does have a slightly sore leg. Poor dog!
Liz is coming to stay! Yay! I've started tidying the guest room, and at the weekend I'll finally hang the blind. Unfortunately Bertie now regards it as his room. Hope Liz doesn't mind. He doesn't smell doggy, but his farts are unbelievable, you could use them as a chemical weapon.
I've got two packets of planks to take back to the Carpet Warehouse -- I haven't heard back from the insurance company about the £100 they owe me, but if I can get a refund on the planks I'll call it quits. At the moment it's just finding time to get the planks to the shop; I've had them in the boot for two days. It's on tomorrow's agenda. Along with getting wood for shelves in the bedroom, visiting a colleague who's just had his gall bladder removed, doing some washing and of course walking the dog.
And reformatting my hard drive, hahahaha!
Liz is coming to stay! Yay! I've started tidying the guest room, and at the weekend I'll finally hang the blind. Unfortunately Bertie now regards it as his room. Hope Liz doesn't mind. He doesn't smell doggy, but his farts are unbelievable, you could use them as a chemical weapon.
I've got two packets of planks to take back to the Carpet Warehouse -- I haven't heard back from the insurance company about the £100 they owe me, but if I can get a refund on the planks I'll call it quits. At the moment it's just finding time to get the planks to the shop; I've had them in the boot for two days. It's on tomorrow's agenda. Along with getting wood for shelves in the bedroom, visiting a colleague who's just had his gall bladder removed, doing some washing and of course walking the dog.
And reformatting my hard drive, hahahaha!
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