Two Dinner Syd

Before I went to the course the other evening I fed Syd his regulation one third of a mugful. During the evening my phone was off/turned down/on vibrate so, of course, I missed all the phone calls from Husband asking if Syd needed to be fed.

As a result Syd got a second dinner of half a mugful, which he scoffed down. He is going to be another George.

We have a book in the playroom called Six Dinner Syd where Syd goes from house to house being fed. That's actually about a cat and I really hope we never get to that situation with Syd!

* * * * *

I went to a Macmillan Cancer coffee afternoon in the church hall today. I offered to make a cake but as I'm bored of always making the same ones I decided to take time over it and do something different. It had to be rhubarb because we still have lots but this time it was rhubarb and custard meringue cake.

I either over- or under-whisked the meringue because it didn't keep its shape very well but, even so, I was pretty pleased with the result.

Until I cut it. It seemed a little bit soggy. I don't think it was under-cooked so it might just have been the mixture. 

However I doubt that Nigella ever got into this mess.

Why is my bottom trembling?

 Me and phones, we don't get on.

I use mine mostly to take photos. Also for whatsapp but I have that on my computer too so I often have no idea where my phone is. (I just remembered: I left my jumper in the garage when I was gardening, and now I'm sitting indoors I'm getting colder. Will have to fetch it. BRB.)

So Husband went for his appointment this morning and I went home promising to make sure the volume on my phone was turned up. 

About 50 minutes later I opened my phone to take a photo of Syd and, coincidentally, saw that Husband was phoning me to collect him. And had been for some time.

It seems my phone was on vibrate rather than noise (I did that for the theatre on Friday). But it was in my back pocket so I should have felt it. Either my bottom is too big for any tremor to get through, or I simply thought it was just another sign of old age.

Anyway Syd and I did a good job clearing the raspberry bed of weeds. I say good job but maybe preliminary job would be more accurate. And, come to that, Syd wasn't a lot of help either.

* * * * *

In church on Sunday a man read a poem he'd written. Now, please tell me what comes into your head when you hear this line:

Seeking solace in the carpenter's arms.

I can't be the only person who imagines a man drowning his sorrows in the pub.

* * * * *

Last night's course introduction was good. I've read the book on Emotionally Healthy Spirituality but gave up a bit towards the end so didn't make any progress on myself. Last night focused on slowing down and being silent, and seeing what it is that gets in the way.

That's easy: my brain. It rushes around twenty to the dozen. Any hint of silence and my brain will fill it with anything from what's for dinner to how can there be imaginary numbers, and everything in-between. Even watching the video I kept thinking, I wish he'd stop moving his arms so much. 

Just the thought of spending time contemplating sends my brain off in spirals of panic.

But also the computer gets in the way of me and contemplation. I have no time to 'waste' on stopping and thinking but I do have time to play solitaire. There's nothing wrong with games in moderation but once I start I can't stop. I will play mindlessly.

From the Daily Office book accompanying the course:

The problem is twofold: first we neglect to pay attention to what is going on inside us. And second, we are too busy to stop, slow down, and be with God. (I would suggest - or our thoughts if God isn't in the picture.)

Daughter is coming on the course with me. I have warned her that she may discover that all her problems stem from me!

One of the things mentioned last night, that will be dealt with in greater detail, is the false self. The one we wear for other people. I am guilty of this, caring too much what others think of me and allowing my self-worth to be dependent on what I do or achieve.

Hm, got a long way to go.

My bad

I shouldn't have tried to cook a roast dinner, do the ironing, and keep an eye on Syd at the same time.

The parsnips were overcooked, the ironing didn't get finished, and Syd wee-ed in the hall.

* * * * *

I don't think Syd likes me watching him when he does a poo: he goes around the corner to do it. Which is strange as he insists on watching me.

This morning he came into the shower with me. Right into the shower. Drinking water as it went down the plughole. I moved a bit so he'd get even wetter and realise it wasn't a good idea but it didn't faze him. He was just one soggy doggy.

Exercise class this morning. I have to say that I work harder than most people on it. Then this evening I start my course. I have special leave from Zac's for the duration!

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality. I am hoping that by the time I finish this course I will be normal and less of a bundle of insecurities.

* * * * *

Theo of Golden. Have you read it? It is lovely. When I began it I feared it was going to turn out to be one of those nicey-nicey feel-good stories. And it was but there was more to it. I cared about the people and the warmth just shone through. Warning: it does talk about God a bit!

And yesterday I picked up War of the Worlds from the library. I heard a clip from it on the radio and realised I'd never read it. I'm not a sci-fi fan - if that is what this is - but I loved the John Wyndham Triffid and other books. So we shall see.

Driving to exercise this morning I was thinking about my grandfather. He was a great reader. I used to choose murder books for him from the library. My choice was based on the goriness of the cover rather than quality of writing but he got through loads. I don't remember seeing my gran read; she was always too busy. By the time I was choosing books for him my grandfather was retired and quite deaf, so he'd sit in the corner, next to the radio, smoke a cigarette, and read.

My grandmother preferred to go down the pub and have a beer or two with her sister and friends.

Small brown puppy

What made me think that planting bulbs, with Syd in the garden, would be easy? If he wasn't digging up the bulbs he was trying to eat the fertiliser.

Small brown puppy + large garden = "Syd, where are yo...? Oh, there you are, standing next to me."

* * * * *

I had an an  optician's appointment on Saturday. I've been getting white flashes (as opposed to hot flushes). The scans were okay and the optician couldn't see any problems in my eyes but he asked me to come back for another appointment so I could have my eyes dilated so they could get a fuller view. He couldn't do it then as I'd driven there and the drops would have prevented me driving home. So I made an appointment for Wednesday morning when Husband could drive me.

This morning Husband had a phone call from the hospital saying they'd had a cancellation and would he be able to come in for a cataract assessment appointment on . . . Wednesday morning. Of course he will need me to drive.

Much harder to get a hospital appointment than an optician's so I've changed my to next Monday. 

Syd has mummy issues

I bought him a dog with a heartbeat. "It'll remind him of his mother," they said. "It'll help him settle," they said.

He tosses it around the place as if, yes, as if wanting revenge on his mummy for giving him away. 

(And I know from that picture it looks as if we keep him in a shed but that's our kitchen wall. I hadn't realised how scruffy it is.)

We were in the back garden working - Syd helping of course - when Syd heard the gate go. He rushed to the front garden and was thrilled to see his friend the postman. Honestly he was delighted to see him.

It's bad enough that Syd makes a huge fuss of Husband every time he comes downstairs but now the postman gets the fuss too! (I know it's because he's with me most of the time and it's good he shows the love to Husband!)

The postman brought my order of the smallest ever, puppy-teeth-friendly plastic Kong (a dog brain challenging toy). I stuffed it with special puppy peanut butter and gave it to Syd. He's been playing with it ever since.

George had a big Kong. We would put treats in it then hide it in the garden and he would have to find it. He was brilliant at it but then, when there food was involved, George was on the button. (Is that a real phrase?)

* * * * *

Last night we finally got to see Operation Mincemeat, the musical. GrandDaughter1 and her best friend dog-sat for us so we were able to enjoy the evening and not worry. 

It was excellent and I am in awe of their energy and timing. A cast of five playing multiple characters, with no regard for gender, but with wonderful singing and staging. Some laughs, some poignant moments. And based on a true story - that I will look up now - as soon as I've poured my tea.

In the dog house

Syd and me both.

Kept Husband awake from 2 am; I slept through it.

Has discovered how to climb stairs; another big no from Husband.

My fault because he's my dog.

When he's not keeping Husband awake at night nor climbing stairs, he is very sweet. And Husband does love him really. 

Last night he managed to overturn two bins, his bed, and move his water bowl to the other end of the kitchen. I've seen pheromone diffusers recommended to bring a sense of calm so shall order one of those. He is actually quite calm mostly. Loud noises don't worry him and he's happy to meet people.

Syd 'helped' Husband to put the winter cover on the pool - and now thinks it's his personal trampoline.

Meanwhile in the garden we have some late roses, and lots of dahlias and chillis.

The unexpected posy courtesy of Syd

P.S. Syd can climb stairs but is not brave enough to come down yet.

This is what I've been missing

I needed to make a birthday cake for Zac's tomorrow so Syd was in the kitchen with me as I made it. I said, "Pay attention, Syd. You could be the first cooking cockapoo."
I explained that I put in the flour then the sugar and then it went whizzy whiz. "Are you paying attention, Syd?"

"I can hear Dad in the garden; he might need my help." (A dog who knows how to use semi-colons, that's impressive.)

Then you put in the marg and the eggs and more whizzy whiz. Syd, stop looking at yourself in the front of the oven and concentrate."
"Is that my bit of twig? I think it is. I'd better play with it."
"Then the best bit, Syd: you get to lick the bowl. Well, I do but you don't. Syd? Syd, where've you gone?"

This is what my blog's been missing: conversations between me and my dog.

Apparently AI can't tell the difference between certain dogs and fried chicken. Hence Elder Son has nicknamed Syd 'The Colonel'. Honestly, Syd doesn't look at all like fried chicken, does he?

I seem to be spending a lot of time wandering around the garden saying, "Are you going to do a wee for mummy, Syd?"

If I wait long enough he usually does and then he gets lots of praise and a treat.

And so it begins

Night 1
Syd slept reasonably well and didn't start crying until 4. Husband nudged me at 7 to get up and sort him out. I can't hear him crying so Husband suffers the most.
Night 2
Syd cried all night.
I mostly didn't hear him and slept but was woken a few times by restless Husband. Everyone very tired. Speaker in church had a quiet voice, not helpful when you're trying to stay awake. Meanwhile Daughter and two grandchildren came round to keep Syd company.
Night 3
Either Syd was so tired after the night before and a busy day and slept, or Husband was so tired he didn't hear him, but it seemed to be a largely peaceful night, Syd starting at about 6.15.

Lots of advice about dealing with puppies and nights. The breeder told us to ignore him. Various websites say to sleep with him at first. Others say, "Give up and bring him to your bedroom." Absolutely no chance of that!

Anyway, yesterday afternoon I had to pick GrandDaughter1 up from work so I left Husband in charge. It was a lovely afternoon so Husband decided to do some work in the garden.

Husband turned his back for a moment and Syd fell in the pool.

Husband yanked him out and Syd immediately walked across and went headfirst into the pond.

This does not bode well for the future. I foresee many Sydventures as I think Boud called them.

Husband will be putting the winter cover on the pool asap, and I think we'll have to put a temporary barrier around the pond.

It would have been George's birthday yesterday.

I think he would approve of me getting a new dog finally.