Boris

There is a new westie on the block, 7 month old Boris, latest acquisition of 2CV Llew. Originally named Bernie, this dog comes from Llew's girlfriend's brother's ex wife or some such complicated provenance, and is a pedigree posh dog (certainly more pedigree than me anyway! Dad says he's a nice looking pup - broad skull, good "stop" (eyebrow ridge), straight back, high set tail and all wrapped in that disreputable scruffy hair and topped off with the big tall ears of any "adolescent" stage westie).

He has not been all that well treated and arrived rather thin and with some signs of itchiness and discomfort that can point to the feared 'skin issues' that some say westies are prone to. (Mum and Dad think that those issues are mainly nurture rather than nature but let's not go there). Anyway Llew is not one to panic so the dog was closely examined, a flea was found, the dog was bathed in insecticidal shampoo and proved to be crawling with the little visitors. That's a relief. Fleas we can deal with, say the humans, - all our lot swear by Frontline and none of us lot have a problem with fleas.

A good name, "Boris" we think - white haired gentleman, toff, Mayors of major UK cities notwithstanding. He will have a great life, too. Llew is nothing if not chilled out and the dogs go everywhere with him, so their lives will be pretty much free from anxiety. He will hopefully turn into a chilled out, well balanced dude. I have heard that he may meet us and come and stay a week with us soon, so I'll get some pictures then.

Meanwhile Project Erroll takes a great leap forward. The house is officially on the market and we straightway have three people/families who want to view lined up. The awesome prospect of having to pack up and move sooner rather than later crosses our minds - maybe we'll end up living out of 2CV Llew's old caravan down by the Shipwright's Arms!

This urgency set off a little plan to make good any 'delapidations' as they say in rental house terms including a big dint and crack put in the landing ceiling by Dad when he was heaving a bookcase flat-pack about. There are also several other cracks caused by the house being built on a brickyard in 1936, so Mum and Dad call for the best builder(s) they know to get a quote for re-sheeting the ceiling etc. These are, of course, the "Panini Brothers" who knocked our kitchen and dining room through in November 2009 - see many blog posts for more detail.

Ah the Panini Brothers

How well we ate that month.....

Deefs

Fabulous Bakers

On a raw frosty morning both Mum and Dad have the day off. Dad takes us a nice walk round the boat yard and we stop and watch while Alan Staley and his boat builders play a game of pendulums with a 7 and a half ton boat on a crane. Mum and Dad disappear off Christmas shopping in Canterbury and return with these rather nice beds for the two of us.

They head on to Lower Halstow where SB Edith May has seamlessly changed, with the coming of winter, from intrepid sailing barge, to Tea Rooms. She is warm and cosy, log fired after a morning in the frost, and Mum and Dad get one of the best baked potatoes ever, down in the restaurant in her one-time hold while listening to0 two old sea-faring types discussing sailing, gas-jetties, tugs and "muddie" barges.

Meanwhile Project Erroll acquires a new stark definition, as Dad's boss announces that the redundancy is on, maybe sooner, maybe after 6 months of deferral. Mum and Dad are pitched into 'project management' mode. The lists come out and the post-it notes come to the fore. We will keep you posted when we know definite dates. We hate to say it, but the horrible situation in Ireland might just play to our advantage just now. More on this soon. It is all currently 'sub-judice' while we sort out who's able to say what and who's in a position to do what to whom

These humans do live complicated lives sometimes, don't they.

Deefs

Rotovator

I was walkin'.....

Now I'm travellin' in style

(as the song goes)

Dad inherits from 2CV Lew, an old rotovator which is older than he is. Lew was using it regularly up until about 2 years ago when he gave up his allotment, and now has no further use for it, so he offers it to Dad but on trying to start it, cannot get it to spark up. Dad decides to take it anyway, but via the mower-doctors we used before.

The easiset way to transport it is going to be in the 2CV, pushed in throiugh a back door with the back seat taken out (an easy job in a 2CV, 2 bolts and it hinges forward and slots out). This means we get to sit down in the passenger footwell for the trip over to Lew's but at least Dad chucks a hi-vis coat in there for us to lie on. The pic has me on the left looking slightly anxious, Haggis looking as chilled as ever. These days, as long as he's with his Dad he's happy. He don't need no seat in the back of his car.

The mower-docs are intrigued. Dad introduces the job with "As you did so well on the mower, I thought I'd give you a challenge this time" and leads them to the car. "We like a challenge" they say. "It's not the car", says Dad. "That's good", they say - "that would be a challenge!". Cheeky s*ds! The guys haul it out of the car and get a good look at it. They scratch their chins and call an old mechanic over. "He's good with the old stuff". "How old is it?" asks Dad. Old guy looks at the registration plate numbers.... "January 1953" he says. It's older than Dad! We leave it with them, to see if they can do anything.

The white flowers pic is the Magnolia stellate in the front garden, which is at its magnificent best.

We go exploring at Lower Halstow, but more of that tomorrow

Have a good weekend