Looking, by her own admission, for all the world like a member of "Mna Macra na Feirme", the unofficial Ladies associated with the Irish "Young Farmers" (Macra na Feirme is official, it's just the ladies of a certain age and style who tag along - Irish Country gals, basically), Mum togs up to take Diamond to Mass. Diamond is actually a "prod", of course, but the RC Rev who came (to Mum's plea) and supported her when she was in the depths of Intensive Care hell a couple of months back, was so nice and kind, Diamond is keen to pay back the compliment now she's "out"
Diamond is currently in remission and living at home, needing the hospital only for blood tests etc, pending a possible further chunk of treatment at Kings Hospital in the big smoke. She's even been round here to admire the work of the Panini Boys, and taken tea with us, and she has been invited by the Pud Lady to come down with us to Hastings on Christmas Day. This may not quite work, as she may be in Kings, but the thought was there, and she's delighted to have the invitation.
We get some good walking today, making our way down to the quayside where, it being a Sunday, the barge SB Cambria is open, and Dad's barge-chums Mark and Cathy are "on station". Kess is there, of course, doing what she does best - being strange. Long haired JR Kess, we know of course, has a thing about stones.
Having selected a suitable stone she will then obsess on it, moving it about by mouth and, where ever it sits, ripping to shreds any grass tussocks near to it and tearing at the ground till quite a sophisticated trench has been dug near the stone. She did this on our terrace once, totally confusing me so that I just sat on Dad's lap barking at her antics, and the nice round pebble has been preserved by Dad for next time she visits.
Returning home we come across new kid on the block, short haired JR, "Clifford". I try to entice him to play by flirting outrageously and running about, but he only has eyes for Haggis (much to Haggis's displeasure) and he's fixated on sniffing bits of the "H" that "H" would rather not have sniffed.
Keep on keepin' on
Deefski
No comments:
Post a Comment