Brand New Life

Dad finally gets given the letter he's been waiting for by his work, which signifies Project Erroll and what is now being called "Brand New Life" (BNL) has a green light. We have a significant date of Thursday 30th June (the significance of which will already be known by those who need to know). It's going to be an interesting 6 months, for sure but from June onwards everything is possible.

He admits to feeling quite relieved at this stage, to have a fixed date after all the shambolic uncertainty and scatalogical stuff produced since the first announcement over 6 months ago and the disappointing and completely disorganised ineptness of certain parties since, it is not a scene he wants too much to do with. 'Nuff said on that subject.

Meanwhile, we hear that the Silverwoods have inherited, at least temporarily (yeah, right), a westie pup. Again, can't say too much, but the dog comes to them from one in Dublin's Fair City whom we shall call Mr Tester. Mr T acquired the pup to "give comfort to his wife and small child while he worked abroad 6 months" and delivered it (surprise!) a few days before leppin' on an aeroplane and leaving Mrs T to it.

Mrs T may have thought this was a nice sweet thing to do, but Mrs T is one of those who keeps an immaculate house with white carpets and obsessive tidiness, like something out of vogue magazine. She doesn't "do" dogs and has no experience of pups, no idea how much potential for mess they can create, and not the first inkling on how to train them or how long it takes.

Only a couple of days into this project, therefore, she realised that the pup was A BAD IDEA but could not realistically change things while Mr T was still around. So she plotted with Mr Silverwood for him to kidnap the pup the minute Mr T's back was turned, and were this blog the plot of a film, there would now follow a superb sequence of military planning and skulduggery, cloak and dagger stuff, cars racing through the night along the darkened rain lashed streets of the city, secret assignations to hand over house keys, guilt-stricken mother distracting small son with trips to the shops so he'd be out of the house at the crucial time and more secret rendezvous to get the keys back. Your mission Mr S, should you choose to accept it......

Suffice to say the cunning plan went off successfully and the small white fluffy 9-week-old parcel is now in the Silverwoods's house being loved up by Em-J, J-M, M and R (plus, no doubt Mr and Mrs S and the 1-year old Yorkie, 'Coco'. He will definitely feel he has landed firmly on his feet. It is not reported how small-boy feels about this or, indeed, how the "phoning from abroad, missing you" conversations will go, or how long it will take Mr T to suss the cuckolding. The plot was so hurriedly executed that Mr Silverwood did not get time to ask name of small white fluffy pup, so on arrival he was renamed Maxwell.

...That's just between these 4 walls, right?

Deefs