More Destruction

Patience Readers! Enough of the clamouring for me to write more stuff! I've been away again from computer and from mains power for a couple of days so. we've not been able to post. Back no though and in the chair, so bringing you some more pictures of the destruction phase of this rebuild project in Roscommon. You can see that it's mainly about ceilings at the moment, all of which are a bit stained with damp, or worse, and all of which potentially cover hidden dangers lurking, like rotten joists and woodworm.

We have also picked up the Yorkie "Coco" from the Silverwoods. Coco is an 'entire' male and has been battling with similarly attired Westie Maxwell. Mum has always had a hankering for a Yorkie so it seemed the best solution to take Coco on this transfer window and try him out with us. I'm not sure I approve, and have been known to snarl and grump in the car but nobody listens to me anyway, so I suspect Coco will be staying. He got his own bed from Santa for us to take to Roscommon. The only problem is that he, a typical Yorkie, is so tiny and delicate featured that all the humans keep forgetting and calling him "she".

The jobs this week for the humans were some more ceiling wrecking - the back upstairs right hand bed room, the bathroom, the dining room and the living room. The first to were plaster board. The dining room has a bizarre combination of black painted tongue and groove board which seem to be sound and free from any rot or woodworm but this is 'skimmed' with a layer of very light 3-ply painted pale brown and now completely riddled with woodworm so that there is a complete layer of woodworm dust between it and the T+G board. The ply is cut into roughly 4 foot squares and once nailed up has had beading nailed along each of the joints, north-south and east-west. This was a dust-mask job for the workers and all the windows open.

As well as all this ceiling bashing, Mum had at some of the bathroom stuff and we pulled out the sink, pedestal, toilet bowl, cistern and the olde plastic pale blue medicine cabinet / toothbrush panel the style of which Mum can remember from when she was little and living at Steak-Lady's house. To remove the sink, Dad had to hack saw through the copper pipes but this should have been no problem - the place has been unoccupied 15 years and was disconnected from mains water according to local legend, using a Water Board JCB because the aul' fella was in dispute with them over an unpaid fee. Anyone spot where this is going yet? So, we tidied up the day's rubble and retreated to the caravan for a coffee leaving the range going like the clappers, a full load of anthracite in its fire basket.

Returning to the house after dark Dad could hear the dripping of water onto the kitchen floor. With the torch, he found this as coming through from above, the newly gutted bathroom.Mum and Dad could also hear the copper tank attached to the range boiling a bit excitedly. We'd heard odd gurglings before but had thought this was just residual water in what we imagined would be the internal spiral-pipe (inside the tank)re-adjusting. Obviously not. The boiling water was now bubbling out of the sawn pipes upstairs and dribbling through to downstairs. Thank Heavens this is all while we are gutted, so there are no ceilings to sag and collapse. Dad put the Curver bucket under the end. The bubbling copper was alarming enough to stop us wanting to eat anywhere near the tank, so we retreated to the caravan resolving to check on the boiling scenario hourly and to proceed with the put-off removal of the tank as soon as it was cold (in the morning).

We took a day off house-bashing on Thursday to deliver on an invitation to English neice, Mads to bring her down to Silverwoods for the day to meet them and to play with all the Christmas toys and games with the children. Mads (20) is doing a University course on Hotel Management at Birmingham University and as part of this, has a work placement at Dunboyne Castle where she now has 35 days or o left of the year's placement. This was a bit of a day for the driving - it's a 2 hour drive across from Roscommon to Dunboyne, then another hour down to Silverwoods in Co Laois. Same again in the evening. But Mads fell in quickly with the Silverwoods and their children and thoroughly enjoyed her day building Thomas Tank Engine railway tracks, having gun battles with big showy "Air Blaster" machine guns firing foam bullets,playing Ludo, Snakes and Ladders, Connect 4 and "Guess Who". She was also well fed and plied with wine. Silverwoods loved Mads and she loved them. Just a shame they didn't get together nearer the start of the placement year.

The copper tank was attacked Friday morning. Dad cut through the first pipe thinking this could only contain the dribble of water in the spiral pipe. Mum was there with the Curver bucket (10 litre) thinking all would be OK. In fact the water came out in a whoosh and kept on coming. Every time the bucket filled, Dad put his thumbs over the ends of the pipe to stop the flow while Mum emptied the bucket. 5, 6, 7 or more times this went on. Apparently there as no spiral pipe in the tank, and the pipes to/from the range must have had access to all the water in there, hence being able to boil it easily and cause it to bubble over upstairs. Ah well, all gone now, the tank hauled out (in the process collapsing through the woodworm infested shelf which had been (just about!)holding its corroded verdi-gris'd weight. The cupboard (hot press) is also gone and so i the last bit of plywood ceiling which had been above it.

All for now
Deefs

Now why didn't I think of that?

D'ohhhh! There we all were looking for Westie-flavour Christmas goodies, and frustrated by the lack of westie-flavoured Christmas cards coming from the usual sources (Blue Cross etc), when had we thought about it, all we needed to do was google "westie AND christmas" (the capital "AND" makes the search engine go off in search of websites which contain both words). Step forward, The Westie Shop

http://thewestieshop.designsales.co.uk/en/westie-christmas

...and a wealth of cards and all sorts. Ah well, too late now, but we'll know for next year. As it was we went with various RSPB and Blue Cross cards anyway, plus 60 off a Truprint use-your-own-image one which featured Mum sitting in the project 2CV car "Mademoiselle" by the road sign for the French Town of La Chapelle d'Armentieres (but that's a whole 'nother story - search this blog for the "Mademoiselle" word and you'll see).

Meanwhile, rain, rain and more rain as we drip and slosh gently towards the end of 2009. Happy New Year, everyone. And Mr Silverwood and Em-J, we hope you're feeling better soon.

Deefski

Getting there

Much to the consternation of Mum and Dad, after three months or so of being dry and clean indoors, I have suddenly started to pee indoors - my own dog-bed one day, the family (human) bed the next (Yay! Right through the duvet and into the mattress - how popular was I?), and the rug in the computer room the third day. Put that with eating grass, very soft poos and being sick, and the humans are starting to talk of hormonal changes, discomfort, coming of age... that sort of thing. They are inspecting my "below stairs" quite often now, but apparently not much is happening.

What a weeeknd the humans have, and we'll be involved in some of it. Saturday they are off to Hastings to be at Dad's Dad's 80th, then back here for their own mad Eurovision party, and then on Sunday, the long-awaited bluebell walk (yes, there still are plenty!) and an allotments volunteer work-party day

Have a good 'un youselves!

Deefer
(Girl...You'll be a woman soon)

Getting carnivorous

Today's treat, par excellence. A chunk of dead beast sawn up by the local butcher man (Thank you guys!) and each of us got a chunk. Beef I think.

Note the different attack styles. Big red bone is a knee end which Lady M keeps ripping bits off from by picking the weight of the bone up by the thin membraney bits and waving it around. Haggis is very neat with his "down" position, both front paws on either side of his elbow joint bit, which he then grinds away neatly at the top of as if it was a lollipop. Me, I go in for cheek-on-the-ground style, sometimes held down by a paw, but often (much to the amusement of Dad) with chin, shoulders and sternum on the ground, bum high in the air.

Kepp the supply of bones coming Dad and we'll be happy to entertain you!

Deefs

That Australia.. gotta be here somewhere

Fit and active types, that's what we are! Up early in the morning sunshine for a nice long walk, then with Mum and Dad around most of the day we're in and out of the garden. We're going to sleep well tonight. Dad was up the allotment first, planting peas and runners, sowing carrots, parsnips, salsify and chard, onions and leeks; then the pair of them were down here in the garden doing sweet peas etc. The pic is of me helping to re-empty a hole dug by Dad wheich he had carelessly refilled with soil. I am 6 inches deep at this stage and busted by camera. Looking for that Australia

We all adjourn indoors for the Boat Race which "we" won (so I'm told, by Dad, although there seems to be some debate on this from Mum, who favours the dark blues. She is of a literary bent and it seems PG Wodehouse went to Oxford, or so I understand it.).

My other pic is of Felix looking very handsome and "classic" in cat outline.

By the way, I am now trusted with the run of the house when humans are away, due to my (let's not tempt fate here) current low incidence of puddles in the hall and recent absence of Richard the Thirds indoors. They have even removed the bin-of-bricks that denied me access up the narrow passage to the cat flap to outdoors. This is good because it also means that the elderly Mississippi can come and go more freely, she being a dame in her Autumn Years and not happy to be leppin' over tall obstacles.

Have a Great Easter

Deefer

One for Sorrow

Good Friday, and we're all sitting around on the terrace. The humans are sipping a merlot and chatting. Uncle Jim from next door has dropped in for a glass of wine. They are commenting (How dare they!) on the fact that I am a bark-y hanimal compared to the quiet, chilled out Meg and H-Man, and I am just about to be quiet to show them it can be done, when a magpie flops in. It seems to be fully grown and fit enough but either can't or won't fly, so it swoops and hops from bush to bush down the fence line, "cha-cha-cha" ing to a band playing.

Well - that's just too much temptation for a Deefer dog, and I take off in hot pursuit, prancing around on my hind legs at the trunk of every tree and bush (and fence post) where the magpie is doing his stuff. Eventually he fly-hops back across the garden and disappears out through the beech hedge. The humans, superstitious lot, are all looking around for a second magpie to get from "sorrow" to joy, but maybe the merlot will see to that OK

Deefs

Cleanest Dog in the Woods

Easter! Well, the start of it anyway. Dad's had a stressed out day in work so (gotta love this) he needs a looooong walk in the Forest to chill out. It's warm, dry (ish) and the bluebell foliage is coming on a treat. Mid May is the best time for bluebells there, so they're still just leaves at the moment. We like to do about 2 miles, but we also like to beat off the proper tracks and go through the trackless bits, always hoping we might come across some deer.

There are a few water-filled vehicle ruts and both Meg and the H love to wade - no problem when they're in the water itself but coming and going across the muddy margins, Dad despairs of the black tidelines and black majorette boots they develop. For some reason, although I am arguable the most un-ruly of the three, I trot nimbly around the puddles and come back immaculate, white, dry and fluffy-of-foot.

I have, though, a cunning plan. lately I am a terror for not going near dad as we get back to the carpark, the plan being to persuade him that sweeties would be a good thing to take on the walks as a bribe to get me to come to the car...... Might be working.

Climbing Feet, Climbing Feat

Mum and Dad are getting used to the fact that they have a climbing dog about the place, achieving remarkable feats of climbing which neither Capt. Haggis nor The Lady Megan ever tried. Tonight Dad was just back from a post-work, post-walk session up at the allotment (He's enjoying the late evenings now we're on BST, and the warm dry digging weather; Makes a nice change. says he) and was in the kitchen briefly to make a coffee. He came back to find me on the dining room table, just about to explore a re-sealable sachet of dog-sweets. He's sussed that I can sprong onto the chairs from the floor, and from there onto the table top

They've already got used to seeing me on the patio table - even quite young I could leap from the flower bed onto the shelf beneath the table, from there to the chair and from there to the table top. Piece of cake. Climbing Westies. A new breed? Mind you, both real-Mum (Mollie) and real-Dad (Hector) are great ones for lying along the backs of sofas, and all 3 of us kids must have that in our blood (or we saw it enough times when we were pups and it stayed in our heads).

Archie now always joins Moll+Hector along the back of the sofa, looking out of the big living room window, it's my favourite place when the humans are sat watching TV, and (we learned a couple of days back) that it is also Ellie's favourite perch, especially as her new-Dad loves eating his supper sitting on the sofa. He is forever battling off Ellie, who sneaks round the back of his neck and sneaks a wet nose round his collar, past his ear and onwards to try to intercept food en route from plate to mouth....

Think I'd probably die if I tried that. Discretion is the better part of cowardice

Deefs

What big eyes you have...

Unlike Megan and the H, who usually sleep through the experience (see photo, H is left, Meggie right), I like to enhance any photo-opportunity if possible by getting as close as possible to Dad's camera. If I can get a slurp of wet nose onto his UV filter, I feel I have scored maximum points (although Dad does not seem to appreciate this)

Had a superb run around today with sis' Ellie, whose walk to the Rec coincided with our own charge down the side path of the house towards the pavement. We were all complimented on our behaviour, and we were at our most charming when sitting properly in a neat circle round Ellie's Mum's feet. Her rattling the "sweetie" pot had nothing to do with this, I swear. We are always that obedient!

Maybe

Deefs

Shouldn't laugh but....

Descended on this afternoon by Diamond, John, Den and Asbo (also known as Ragworth / Rags), all the humans tucking into a roast lamb meal (Yay! Bones for us when the guests have gone!). Rags used to bully me a bit (although 'tis said I was a screaming drama queen and wailed even if he didn't actually touch me), so it was funny to hear tonight of him coming unstuck when out being walked by Den.

Apparently he had spotted a big ol' ginger Tom cat near a car, and when the cat crept under the car, Rags lunged under too, to the full length of his lead. The cat struck back! Rags emerged backwards from under the car, screaming like a drama queen ( :-)) ), with the ginger Tom on top of him gripping on and biting into his spine. Den had to separate the two animals and retreat, with Rags looking anxiously over his shoulder till the cat was well out of range. They crossed the road, and the cat crossed too, ending up sitting on the pavement coolly washing himself.

Also, I hear that Asbo, as a pup, was terrified of the decorated wheelie-bins. Plain green ones were OK, but some people like to customise their wheelie bin with stick-on transfers of clematis plants, or clown faces. Rags gave these a very wide berth.

The bigger they are.....

Deefs

ps - No more of the r*t. Dad blocked up the holes with some square section weld-mesh, and the varmint has not, so far, been back. Megan is watching out for developments. meanwhile we had a squirrel in the Albertine on the back of the house, as an alternative entertainment today

Going wobbly

That final upper left baby-canine. Not long for this world. Have a great weekend. Beannachtai na Feile Padraig, an' all that.

Slain
Deefer O'Carogan

The Squirrels

Spring is definitely with us, and even the Forest is drying out. We went a lovely long walk, the reverse of the Friends of Kingswood "Deer walk" - Dad was out with the telephoto again trying to get that prized Fallow Deer picture; and no, he won't sneak off to the deer park in Sevenoaks and blag one. This has to be (apparently) a real Challock Forest deer in Challock Forest. It's an obsession. He had to make do yesterday though with this charmer of Meggie at one of the Friends' ponds, with me in the background.

Out on the Rec the squirrels are out and about in force, and I am getting to really enjoy the hunt. Used to be Meggie's thing, but lately she's feeling her age and can't run them down like she used to, so she looks on proudly while I charge about.

The second pic is me on one of the patio chairs. Definitely in need of a hair cut!

Snow on the way, apparently, Sunday

Deefer

Westies on TV (ignored)

Well, there was, briefly, a Westie on crufts tonight, shortlisted on the terrier group, but I must admit, I was too busy beating up Haggis, that we both missed it. I perked up a bit and paid attention while the fly-ball was on (here's me looking at the collies leppin' back and forth - I bet I'd be good at that!) But it was a tiring old day, so here's a shot of me asleep with Meggie. By the way, I have now lost my penultimate puppy-tooth. I have one upper (lft) canine to go - looks very odd with both, as the adult tooth has now emerged fully, so I have 2 "fangs" that side.

Love, Deefer

Bluebells and Snowdrops

A brilliant day - the weekend and both Mum and Dad around for almost the whole day. Sunny and breezy, so they both got all inspired to get cracking in the garden, and I was there to help. Every year they order another 100 snowdrops "in the green" for under the big James Grieves apple tree. The originals were wiped out by the chooks, when they had them a few years back. Chickens annihilate anything green that emerges through the soil (except Rose of Sharon and daffodils for some reason) and quickly reduced the inside of the chicken "paddock" to brown - either desert or mud depending on season.


This year, along with the snowdrops we also got some bluebells (from a reputable source, of course) and these, too, were to go into the mini-orchard (where the chooks were - now the JG above, but also greengage, damson, quince and (this year) a Black Wonder cherry from Brogdale. We also re-sowed the orchard with grass mix


Mum was up the top of the garden weeding, tidying and planting (and ...um.... picking up doggy gifts), Dad was down in the chicken run and then in the greenhouse sowing multifarious kinds of seeds. We dogs were scampering to and from making ourselves useful as follows

• Helping dig slits for snowdrops
• Rescuing snowdrops accidentally left in the slits by dad before he could tread down the soil again
• Dis-interring old beef bones we buried many moons ago, in case they were in the way.
• Biting the end of the hoe when it tried to make threatening noises against the stones in the soil
• Biting then end of the duckweed net.
• Biting the sharp end of the spade. You can't be too careful!
• Chasing blackbirds (You can't be too careful with them either)
• Duffing up Haggis when he tried to stop moving
• Shouting at the doozers in the building site out back
• Shouting at the street cleaning lorry clearing up the mud left by the doozers driving in and out of the building site
• Shouting at the thunder - that scared it. The cloud cruised right on by without raining on our parade
• Re-distributing empty flower pots. Seems unfair that the greenhouse gets them all
• Collecting mud and grime on fur, especially chin. Dad loves it when I nuzzle into his neck with my chin all wet and muddy
• Saying a quick "hello" to little Eve next door. She still doesn't beleive I type this all myself....

Have a great weekend

Deefer

Fabergé Egg

Ooops. After my conviction for the hair dryer job, was trying to keep a low profile. Duck a bit, dive a bit, be a little bit who-aooo. It all went terribly wrong tonight and I was back on the naughty step.

Many moons ago, Dad had seen something about a Fabergé egg (coo, look at me with my e-acute! No sweat - just hold down the Alt key and while you're still holding it, type 130, then let it all go) being given to some highbrow lady as a gift. Next time he was in the farm shop he bought a huge goose egg, "blew" it (as in a hole in either end and blow on one end to force the white and yolk out the other. Use for delicious omelettes) and decorated it with multi coloured felt pens. He then presented it to Mum with much ceremony (I'm told the reply was "You ******* eejit!").

Since then it has been rattled around in the stationery basket, along with the highlighters and staplers, but has survived many years, and has (um.... "had") become known as the Fabergé egg. A family heirloom. Part of the family jewels, yet. Priceless. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever...

Till tonight

It wasn't my fault - Mississippi the cat tossed it down to me. What was I to do. I am a toothing puppy. I chew. It's what I do. It's amazing how many acres of hall carpet you can cover with one goose egg shell !

I am forgiven now though, and am chewing on a more appropriate ox-tail bone out of tonight's stew

Grind grind... slurp slurp, gnaw gnaw

Had any pancakes yet, Old-Dad? :-))

Deefer

Romantic texts and Pancake Day

We were all deserted by Dad Monday night, as he was off on business to Bristol, so it fell to us to protect Mum from ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. So when Dad texted Mum with a romantic "Good morning - I am missing you" on Tuesday morning, he got back something along the lines of "Yeah, and I missed you too at Oh-Christ Hundred Hours in the morning when the foxes were kicking off in the back garden". Dad guessed someone had turned off the "Middle-of-the-night-dog-releasing-button" (Guess who usually has to get up to let us out!)

Dad got back in time for the pancake party. Mum had got the batter ready but neither Dad, nor John, Denis or Diamond had turned up yet, so instead of just lemons and sugar, Mum had got bored and started getting out ever more possible fillings - choc spread, jams, segments of satsuma, sliced banana, Greek honey..... you name it. She'd made gallons of batter, so everyone was full to bursting.

Poor old-Dad, we are told, didn't get any, as first-Mum (daren't call her "old"!) thinks they are just for kids. When he found out we'd had them, he sent first-Mum a "written warning" e-mail with photo's attached so she'd know what lemons looked like. He copped such a telling off! Poor old-Dad. Hope he didn't get too killed when he got home!

Now Mum and Dad are into something awful called "Lent" when they jokingly challenge each other to go without alchohol for 40 days and 40 nights. Bet they don't make it. They want me to give up poo-ing indoors. Might. Might not.... Mind you, apparently, when you are an Irish Catholic (Mum says) you are allowed an exemption on Paddy's Night. Even Bono says so, so it must be true.

Deefs

...has those teeth, Dear, and he keeps them..

...Pearly White.

In the first picture, fallow deer prints - a common sight in Challock Forest, and it's when you see a good few fresh ones on a path we all slow down and go very quiet, because as sure as eggs is eggs, there will be a small herd of the deer in the immediate vicinity. In this pic you can see the hind foot has slotted in practically on top of the fore-foot print. We are even told that if you know what you are doing you can easily tell the sex of the deer in question. The women are (ahem) slightly pear-shaped ( you just know this is gonna be a MAN tracker don't you!), so that the track of the hind feet is slightly wider than the track of the front feet, more so when the doe is pregnant. But we'll leave that to the experts.

My second photo is a macro-shot of my shiny new fangs. Scary, aren't they? In case you don't know what you're looking at, the long tooth in the right hand side of the shot is my upper left puppy milk-tooth (canine). Just to the left of this is the grown-up canine just coming through. Middle tooth showing is the lower left canine pointing upwards away from the camera, and the other two are grown-up upper left incisors. Won't be long before I lose the pup-fangs, I guess. We were cunningly designed to never be completely toothless.

Had a great weekend - more Forest today, nice and early but didn't see any deer.

Look after yourselves

Deefer

Reader, I knackered him

Here's a couple more pics, just for fun. A shot of Haggis fast asleep after I've tired him out. I am still too small to be able to lep' up onto the sofa, so he can escape me up there (and frequently does). Let's not forget that although he runs around and plays with me as if he was a pup too, he's actually a 9 and a half year old dog. Poor old boy!

Plus another one of me that snowy day in the forest - I love the stance. I'll never be a show dog with my tail curled round like that, but this looks abit like "Monarch of the Glen" from behind, don't you think?

The Humans are all indulging in a bit of soggy romance tonight - fizz, candle light, good food, chocolates and prezzies; St Valentine's Day, but at least we got a nice walk first. The forecast rain stopped just in time, though the Rec is like a swamp, and the night promises to be clear skies and frost. Dad's now sloped off to watch the Top Gear USA fly-drive episode, before he nips into the shower to try out his new "smellies" (Spanish fig and walnut shower gel anyone?)

Happy Valentine's Day

(maybe I'll have a young westie boy send me a card....... sigh)

Deefer

Just enough snow to make Angels

A little bit more snow this morning - just enough to roll about in and make "angels" as taught to me by Megan and Haggis

Very little to say today - every-one's in a tearing hurry for some reason

Deefs

If you go down to the woods today

Everyone feeling in need of exercise today, after a lunch yesterday which featured (for humans, not for dogs!) sticky toffee pudding, so all the guilty parties (including Diamond and John) rendezvous'd at Challock Forest at 10 am. The frost was all gone, so it was a bit skiddy underfoot.

This is a pic of the 4 of us (l to r, Meggie, moi, the H-Man and Asbo (aka Rags). Mirror mirror on the wall etc.... I wish that, for a laugh, I could show you the shots surrounding this one on the memory card - dogs looking in the wrong direction, me leppin' off the bench. Maybe I'll put one up tomorrow.

Not all of us understand fully commands like "sit" and "stay" (or, for that matter - "WILL you keep STILL you little perishers?!!!". Rags (shame on him) is on a lead in this one, just while he was on the bench, because the dunce has solid bone between his ears and couldn't get the concept of posing at all...

Ne'er mind. All adds to the fun

Deefs