Dad's old room

What a day! We're up fresh and early and whizzed off to the frozen Rec to let off steam, running around in the frozen grass. Unfortunately I lose yet another favourite "toy", a fairly dense sponge rubber ball which I have loved to death - chewed all the outer colour off it so that it is mainly white, which means it gets lost in the frost.

But we're off to Hastings to the Pud Lady. Stamp Man is still in hospital and the Occupational Therapy types have got all involved, so now when he comes home it has to be to a hospital-style bed, not to Pud-Lady's saggy mattress, dark carved oak angels too-tall-for-a-westie-to-jump-up-on ancient one. So it has been decreed that Dad's old room will be cleared of the build up of 25 years of boxes of second hand books, cleaned and completely redecorated.

Walls and floors that have not seen the light of day since before Meggie was born will be swept, de-cobwebbed, sugar-soaped, scraped, sanded and painted to within an inch of their lives. We are all loaded into the 2CV and high tailing it to help. Dad's other brother and his good lady, the family that "don't do dogs" will be there (we mentioned them a couple of blogs ago, I recall) and so will T-fer. Pud Lady (on the instructions of Mum) will be forcibly restrained, sat in an easy chair and fed sherry, and denied all chance to lift a finger.

Even lunch will be bought-in salads and stuff (plus Pizza and quiche at the request of Pud-Lady, who is rather mischievously varying her diet away from things that Stamp-Man would like in his absence at Hospital. Go Pud-Lady! You Rebel, you!

We are excluded from the room at some stages (something about gloss paint on skirting boards) but that's OK. We entertain Pud-Lady and enjoy chasing round the mature wooded garden. Dad spoils the fun a bit by telling everyone not to feed us when we scrounge. Spoilsport!

All done by 3.30 pm, and it's still a lovely sunny day, so Dad rolls the 2CV roof back and we cruise home again. I spend some of the trip standing up on the back seat. leaning heavily on Dad's shoulder, with my nose raised into the airflow coming across the top of the car. Lots of sheep to look at across Romney Marsh, but as yet they are all fat fat Ewes - not a lamb to be seen yet!

Have a good weekend
Deefski.