Quatorze Juillet

This blog is at serious risk of turning into an obituary column this year, for which I apologise. If I'd seen how ruddy awful 2008 was going to be, I'd have been less keen to see the back of 2007. Anyway, Polly is no more. A pretty ghastly weekend really; good deal of time spent almost literally holding her paw at odd hours of the night and such. At least she was able to be out in what sun we had on Saturday, which was nice. Always one for some sunshine.


Funny to think she's the last of a whole family we've had over the years, back to her grandmother. We also had her aunt, my brother had her uncle and half-brother and so forth. So something of an end of an era.

It's going to be one of those weeks I fear. Today was supposed to be a Haircut Day (urgh) but the hairdresser is on crutches so we'll remain unshorn. Not too disastrous as I've already been nagged into letting my hair grow longer for The Wedding (why? I dunno) so can manage a passable impression of a shaggy dog as it is. Tuesday, guess what? Vic the plumber is coming again. Did I tell you about the new taps? Probably not. But one started to leak (of course) so he's coming to sort it out. Wednesday we slope off up country for said Wedding on Thursday. Great. It's not like I was exactly in the mood before, but now... On the bright side I may still be internet-enabled; on the minus side we all know how unreliable 'puters are... Oh, and this weekend was the Southwest Forest Woodfair, which, naturally, I missed. Even if I was in the right frame of mind for it, which I wasn't. And another Popular Woodworking mag has come, to join the pile of the great unread.

So on the Happy Bunny Scale I'm registering somewhere around the Mouldy Lettuce Leaf mark.

But hey, it could be worse. At least I don't own a Bastille...