It's breast cancer awareness month in Mumbles - and I guess everywhere else!
Syd loves people.
Most people love him too - except joggers. Joggers ignore him, don't even glance at him. I mean, seriously? Syd doesn't understand this and, I have to say, neither do I. The biggest problem we have is persuading him to come with us instead of following the person/dog he just greeted.
And he's showing a stubborn streak.
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| "No, I'm not coming." |
As you can see he had his first walk to the beach today.
More gardening this afternoon, discovering the path to the shed is two slabs wide not one as it appeared. I plan to get the garden spick and span ready for winter, and at the rate we're going I think we'll manage it. Me and Syd that is. When he's not stealing my fork or digging up my plants.
Now I think I may go to the library. I have overdue books and one waiting to be collected: The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances. Might have to pick up some more winter-flowering pansies at the same time.
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Yesterday I had a meeting with Sean and a solicitor about Zac's trustee stuff. The solicitor said, and I quote, "Solicitors are like hookers; we charge by the hour."
Though Sean has used him for years and can't remember ever getting an invoice from him. He's a good one as well as a character.
Anyway, I've spent some time today trying to decipher deeds and write a new one. We have to do this before we can do that and then we have to do the other before we can transition. Apparently.
Reluctant at first - and he definitely didn't like his collar - but by the time we got home he didn't want the walk to end.
Husband has blocked the hole and another one he found so we're safe until the next one is discovered - or dug!
Repeat appointment at the optician's this afternoon. My eyes weren't as blurry as I expected after the drops although they were quite light sensitive. Anyway, all is good. My flashes were due to the jelly in the eye getting detached from the retina. Another symptom of - yes, you've guessed it - getting old.
It's only a problem if it comes away with such force that the retina gets torn. Mine wasn't so put up with it.
The only other thing she mentioned is that my eyes have a higher something of something, meaning my eyes are more sensitive to light. I said, "Yes, I do sneeze when the sun shines!"
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The course I'm doing involves taking time each day to do the Daily Office, basically a quiet five minutes with a scripture and piece of writing for consideration. All this first week it's been about being busy and not finding time for stillness. I've found it difficult to even sit silently for two minutes as my mind darts off. And being busy is my thing. Which isn't bad in itself unless it then becomes the source of my self-esteem.
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Yesterday I was tidying the edge of the paving by the greenhouse and realised there was about another third that had been covered by grass.
It seems we have another George.
Syd has found what I am sure is the only gap in our fence, hidden behind bushes, and is desperate to get out there.
Now remember, this is the dog who won't stay in a different room from me, who follows me like my shadow, who comes to the toilet and shower with me. But suddenly the world beckons?
And he's brazen about it.
Having carried him back into the garden I put him down and he's straight back to the gap. "Don't even think about it, Syd! I'm warning you! Syd! Syd! Come back!" And he's off.
He's not going out again until Husband has blocked it.
I am so thankful for the sunny days we've been having. It's meant we've been able to spend lots of time in the garden wearing Syd out and encouraging him to do his wees there. Also I've been able to get lots gardening done.
I've finished clearing the raspberry bed. Dug up lots of bindweed roots but there'll always be more. Still it's looking better now.
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!
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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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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.
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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.
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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 + large garden = "Syd, where are yo...? Oh, there you are, standing next to me."
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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.
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?)
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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.
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.
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| The unexpected posy courtesy of Syd |
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.
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.
That's what I've been this week as it all led up to this:
Meet Syd, my new cockapoo puppy!
He's 11 weeks old and we - Daughter and I - chose him and brought him home yesterday. Husband is still not entirely on board but I sense a weakening this morning - even though Syd woke him up at 4 am whining and scratching the kitchen door.
I slept through it. That is to say I slept through Syd's crying but was woken by Husband's restlessness. He, Husband that is, pushed me out of bed at 7 to go and sort out Syd.
I have to finish now as Syd wants me to go and play with him.
I was supposed to be having my RSV injection this morning. I'd been surprised when I had a letter inviting me as I thought only 75s and over were eligible, but I assumed they'd changed the rules, and booked.
Yesterday the surgery nurse phoned telling me the Health Authority had made a booboo and I wasn't eligible.
It was good to be too young for something for once but this jab was one I would have liked to have had. Also as I no longer had an appointment this morning it meant I could go back to exercise class.
Big mistake. I can no more 'take it easy on your first time back' than I can say no to ice cream. I will regret this on Friday. Maybe tomorrow but it usually takes two days to really hit me. I was surprised how weak my arms were. They've never been very strong, especially my left one, but I was struggling from the start today.
Then writing group this afternoon. Richard led - very well - and I might have been a bit too honest in my writing. I should have stopped before it went downhill.
Got petrol on the way home and couldn't resist taking a photo of this hare holding a fire extinguisher.
It suddenly occurred to me that the show, Operation Mincemeat, was coming to the Grand Theatre sometime soon. I booked tickets for it after Husband's illness got in the way of a London trip to see it.
But it wasn't in my diary.
This was a little alarming.
I googled to see when it's on and it's the last week in September so at least we hadn't missed it. Then I searched through my emails to find a record of booking. Nada! Zilch! Nothing!
Husband recently read about box breathing where you breathe in for 4 (or was it 5?), hold it for 4, breathe out for 4, and hold it for 4. It's supposed to be good to calm you as you try to imagine breathing the sides of a box. Sadly I was past the stage when breathing would help.
"Where is it? I did book, didn't I? I must have done! I' absolutely sure I did! Then where is it? Why can't I find a record? Don't panic!"
I checked my blog and this is what I'd written back in June 2025:
Which proves I did book but doesn't help on the finding the tickets email front. It also shows how well I know myself.
Well, I found them but they were in a strange Inbox folder that I never look at that seems to just house some emails. I've now printed out the tickets and will put them 'somewhere safe.'
I need a cup of tea after that.
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In Italy they have three kittens and two chicks, the latter born - hatched? - while we were there.
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| 'Dave' the dad |
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| Mum Helga and one kitten |
It was GrandSon4's birthday the day before we arrived in France so he insisted on me making a cake for him when we got back to Italy. He is well into Harry Potter and wanted a book cake. Actually he wanted Hagrid or a phoenix but I managed to talk him down.
Cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen, with an unfamiliar stove, and unfamiliar ingredients, especially when it has to be gluten-free for YS, isn't easy. The cake wasn't the best but it got eaten. The icing was meant to be red like the phoenix but it was coming out pink - red colouring always does! - so I turned it purple on the basis that purple is a magical colour. The only piping equipment I could buy had a wide hole so my writing is very thick and poor, and that's meant to be a feather at the bottom by the way.
Yesterday I was leading the service in church for the first time, meaning I did the welcome and introductions, the mc if you like.
Bit of a panic at first as they couldn't get the microphones to work but, thankfully, that was sorted in time and I didn't have to shout. Part of the job of leading is usually reading the psalm for the week. We're working through the book of psalms and we'd reached number 73.
I don't know if you've heard about the men in black wearing balaclavas gathering at Dover recently to protest about immigration? Or the far-right's war on the RNLI (Royal National lifeboat Institution)?
The anti-migration parties are calling the lifeboatmen traitors for saving lives at sea without first checking if they have a British passport.
You may not know that the majority of our lifeboatmen and women are volunteers, who are willing to risk their own lives at any time of day or night, often in appalling sea conditions to rescue those in trouble. In 1947 the Mumbles Lifeboat was launched to answer a distress call and it never came back. All eight crew members died.
So when I read the psalm last week to prepare for Sunday I was struck by how apt the words are. (The R****m party received, over the weekend, £72 million from two crypto billionaires.)
I think I've mentioned that our writing group is producing an anthology to sell in aid of Ukraine. I am in the process of putting all the text together, I have a designer working on the cover, and all we need now is a title.
In the car yesterday, on my way to the library the 'hiraeth' came to me. I don't think I was thinking about the anthology in particular but probably about books in general. Hiraeth is a wonderful Welsh word that doesn't have a direct translation other than homesickness but it's much more than that. It's a deep-seated longing for a time or place, especially when that time or place no longer exists.
It felt very appropriate for a book to be sold in aid of country that will never be the same again.
Browsing in the library later I flicked open the pages of a novel to the foreword, which gave the definition of hiraeth: a deep, bittersweet longing for a home, place, or time that is lost, unreachable, or never actually existed. That was a bit spooky!
Anyway, later that day I read the essay submitted by our Ukrainian writer and it's all bout the summers she spent on her grandparents' farm in the south of Ukraine. So the title Hiraeth felt very apt.
But then this morning I was talking to the designer and he asked it it was a good title if you had to keep explaining it. So I thought I'd ask you what you think.
I quite like the idea of having to explain it, to emphasise the changes that will have been wrought in Ukraine. Also most of the buyers will be Welsh and will have an inkling I believe. So, your thoughts, please.
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Having come back from very hot temperatures to Welsh autumnal temperatures I am feeling the cold. I even put a vest on this morning!
Meanwhile back in the south of France. One day we went for a wander around the town of Frejus. It's become a very popular resort these days and has its upmarket marina and promenade area, as well as its historic and arts centre.
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| French singer Johnny Hallyday |
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| An olive tree about 1,000 years old. |
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| Yarn-bombing! |
