moving experience

My cottage is up for sale.This involves strenuous tidying up and much use of lavender polish and bleach. I have had lots of viewings (who so far, all say it`s very nice but too small).       I have to be out with B.Wiggins as he would defend his territory with ferocious barking, so I have had even longer walks than usual in the mud and biting winter wind.      It is a big learning curve having a dog. I tend to haunt places which are dog friendly like pet shops,flea markets,certain cafes, garden centres, hardware shops. The National Trust is very un-dog friendly, I`m thinking of writing a protest letter to them.  
I saw a lovely film the other night in the Village Hall: Le Havre. it was about a group of poor people who befriend a young Congolese boy who has escaped from a container ship full of asylum seekers. They help him get to his mother in London and the film was about unconditional kindness, beautifully acted and understated. 
It reminded me of a time a few years ago when I went with a group of friends over on the night ferry from Portsmouth and arrived at Le Havre early in the morning to cycle to Rouen along the Seine. We wandered around with our maps for ages along seedy streets. 
It was our performance of the Museum Tales on Saturday. We had to read our work in the busy museum against a background of tourists chattering and babies in buggies. I don`t know what they made of it. I shall miss the group and our weekly sessions. I have got very fond of the place and the objects in the glass cases are like old friends.

Motorway madness

Daughter J and co have gone to Spain for half term. I was going  to look after their 20 year old cat, but B.Wiggins was too boisterous and also kept eating her food and she got justifiably annoyed. So on Sunday I drove her to London to spend the week with grand daughter M who is living with fellow students in a house in Clapton.This entailed the M25 and the Blackwall Tunnel (such a frightening name) and then weaving my way through Hackney and Bow and Dalston with B Wiggins bouncing around in the front and cat Shirley emitting feeble miaows in the back. Still we made it successfully and had a lovely time with M and a walk by the river Lea. But on the way home, I managed to get on to the M25 going the wrong way and ended up paying the toll at Dartford Crossing twice within twenty minutes.   Surely there is nothing more depressing than driving for several miles the wrong way along a motorway.
I am worrying about all this obesity business in the media. I seem to be getting larger in spite of constantly going for dog walks.. I suppose it is my duty to go on a no bread-no butter- no chocolate regime again.
Also  I think I may have to go back to being a proper vegetarian instead of a half hearted one. They are not going to find bits of horse in nuts and beans.   
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me and my dog.....

I apologise for repeating the `Mud, mud, glorious mud` title in my last blog.. It is because mud is such a dominating feature of my life since the advent of B Wiggins.We both come back from every walk literally plastered with it. Fortunately B.Wiggins is small enough to be dunked in the kitchen sink.  Yesterday we went for the day to the Isle of Wight. This involved: car to station, two trains, boat, and bus,there and back, which were all new experiences for BW   Everyone I sat next to  whipped out their mobile phone and proceeded to show me numerous photos of their pets. I was longing to read the Guardian and do the crossword.
The purpose of my visit was to visit ex husband J who is very poorly and in hospital in Newport, and I met up with two sons and a grandson. I was impressed with the hospital which was cheerful and bustling and clean. No one batted an eyelid when I walked in with the dog,  they just stroked him ( and told me about their dogs)
Being an old person is a full time job. Apart from hospital visiting one`s contemporaries, I am just off to Age Concern this morning to get my hearing aids fixed, then to the library for a replacement bus pass.