A New Arrival, the Village Show, and Winston

 Young Master William came into this world just one week ago.  His journey was a traumatic one, but mother and son are both doing really well and are now back home.  Home is Shanghai, for now.  

They may be many thousands of miles away but thanks to modern technology we are able to keep in close contact and have lots of photographs of him.  He has a wonderful head of jet black hair and weighed in at over 8lbs, a very handsome young man.

When his father, my youngest child, was born things were very different.  Telephone calls were very expensive and quite difficult to arrange to Saudi Arabia, which is where my husband was working at the time.  We had one short call once a week, if available.  Jonathan was several days old before my husband knew he had been born and six weeks old before he came home and saw him.   Thank goodness things are different now.

Talking of young men, Winston is also thriving and has certainly brought a new energy to this place.  It would be true to say that my husband is as fond of him as I am, and that certainly couldn't be said of my other dogs.  I think he has finally got the puppy he didn't know he had always wanted.

I am  in slight panic mode, the village show is on Saturday.  So far all I have prepared is a fruit loaf.  Time, and Winston, permitting I will bake a loaf of bread, a Victoria Sandwich and a couple of batches of scones so they can go into the auction later to raise funds for the village hall.

As I type this Winston is fast asleep in a corner by the door, he is a restless sleeper and migrates from bed, to dog chair, to floor, all the time staying virtually asleep, then snoring deeply immediately he has found his new position.  At night he sleeps in his crate and is perfectly happy to do so, which is just as well given the restless nature of his daytime naps.

A Small Dose of Village Life and Miss Read

 Last night the heavens opened and Lincolnshire got soaked.  The back garden drainage is rather poor (clay soil) so this morning when Winston dashed out, he got quite a surprise to find the whole lot was under an inch or two of water, with just a few 'dry' islands.  He wasn't quite sure what to do, until necessity spurred him on.  

I almost decided not to bother going up to the village coffee morning but in the end I pulled on my trusty Wellies and a raincoat then plodged up the road.  I will admit to enjoying myself, the water was still cascading down the road in places and I took childish delight in jumping in some of the puddles and then cleaning my boots off in the flowing water.  Luckily there was no traffic, no one to witness this silly (but most enjoyable) behaviour.

By the time I reached the village I was back to normal, sane, sensible.  Boring.

Coffee, tea, cake, raffle and plenty of chatter.  

I enjoyed a good long chat with Miss Read, she is 93 years old now and still as sharp as a tack.  Her eyesight is failing rather badly and she can no longer read or paint but she can knit straightforward things.  She knits blankets, lots of blankets.   When she has a big pile of them they are donated to care homes, charities and anywhere there is a need.

The village show will take place in less than a fortnight.  Eeek!   We may have some decent tomatoes then and the cucumbers are ripening but other than that our crops are pretty dismal this year, so I don't think we will be entering many things in Produce.

Perhaps a bit of baking, just to show willing.  So different from previous years when the show really got us fired up and entering as many classes as we could manage.   I hope it is well supported, I know from past experience just how much work goes into organising it.

Winston has lots of toys but his favourite items are a stick which he carries around with him, an old woollen sock which he loves to play tug with, and the old baby bath.  He uses this for drinking, so much nicer than his water bowl, apparently, and for washing his feet -  makes the water much more to his taste.

Enough of my babbling.  I have a young pup wanting some attention.  Time to clip on his lead and take him around Owl Wood.  Grandson No 1 has strimmed us a pathway around and through there.  Winston thinks it is the most exciting thing ever, so many scents, sounds, distractions.  He loves it. 

Later:

I love it too.  It is a short walk, perfect for a pup of his age but, because he gets sensory overload, he is totally worn out when we reach home.  Nap time for him, peace and some time to catch up on things for me.

The last few weeks have been busy.   Looking after Winston has drastically reduced the amount of time I am able to spend on my laptop, so no time for reading your blog posts, sorry.  Luckily, I have found that I can keep a reasonably close eye on him while reading a book - years of practice have gone into that!  It is how I have retained some of my sanity, although, thinking about the jumping into puddles...

Don't Forget to Wash Behind Your Ears

 When a young puppy gets a little too frisky, or too big for his boots, there is only one thing to be done.  Calm him down by flinging yourself on the ground and have a jolly good wash. 

This was the lesson Sparky chose to teach Winston this morning.

He couldn't believe his eyes.  He was stopped in his tracks and simply stood and watched her, until she decided that she was clean enough and he learned that cats do what cats want, when they want, and puppies count for nothing.

Millie decided that she preferred to have the fence between her and the puppy, but she had a wash too.

This old fencing was hastily thrown up to help contain Winston in a manageable area once we found out just how enthusiastic he is about digging, eating anything green, muddy, or dead and decomposing.  I had to put the bricks down under the gate when I caught him shimmying underneath, just as he had seen the ginger cat do - Sparky is so slender that she simply slips through the gaps...Millie is a little more pear-shaped.

The year is rumbling on while I spend all my time with the cats and the puppy.  The village show is looming, the schedule was popped into the letterbox this week.   Eeeek!   I doubt that I will be entering many classes this year.

I noticed that the blackcurrants are large and almost ripe, so I may make some blackcurrant curd, scones and a Victoria Sponge Cake.   Perhaps a loaf of bread, we will see.

As to the vegetable categories - the signs are not good in the vegetable garden.  Nothing seems to be doing well.  I guess some years are like that and little Winston has definitely diverted our attention away from our normal routines.

He is worth every moment.  

He is the most adorable and cheeky little chap.  

He would be perfect, if I could just find a way to stop him trying to eat everything in the garden.  🐶👮

Drying Octopuses on my Washing Line

 I was removing the washing from my line and thought of you Linda, aka local-kiwi-alien.   Who would have thought that I, too, would have to dry octopuses on my washing line.  All thanks to young puppy Winston, of course.   He is particularly fond of the green one, it gets dragged all around the garden with him.  Those tentacles also come in handy for a game of tug-of-war.

I indulge him.  He has been a poorly boy.  The last week has been something of a nightmare, for him and for me.  Winston developed cystitis, and needed, or felt that he needed, to be let outside every couple of minutes.  I won't go into the details.

A couple of visits to the vets, two injections and a daily dose of anti-inflammatory and painkillers and he is now feeling much better.  The only amusing part of it was being asked to collect a sample of his urine, not easy when all that was coming out was dribbles!   I managed to lull him to sleep and by some miracle I was able to keep him asleep for over an hour, by which time he was more than ready to dash outside.

This morning he is so much brighter, simply weeing for Lincolnshire, rather than for England.  He is calmer, so am I, now that we are not having to dash outside quite so often.  His appetite has returned and he is back to being able to play and enjoy all those puppy games again.

I  have not had time to read blogs, so apologies.  My whole focus has been on this little chap.  Even old Sparky was concerned about him and took time out of her busy schedule (mouse/rabbit hunting) to spend time with him.  Yesterday I found Winston fast asleep in the porch with Sparky sitting on the bench just above, watching over him with a benevolent eye.  

How to Lose Weight without Dieting

Lose weight without dieting?  

How is that possible?  

Get yourself a puppy!

Sweet, cuddly, adorable?   Absolutely!  

My little tyke is all of those things, but he is also hell-bent on trying to kill himself.  

  

He snatches at daisies, lavender, buttercups and, generally, any flowers he can reach.  He is also rather partial to munching on big chunks of moss, snatching up twigs, sticks, large pebbles, small pebbles,  pheasant droppings, hedgehog poop and tiny fallen apples, cat litter...to name but a few forbidden delights. 

The cats have been very clever.  They spent the first few days steering clear of him at all times, however, they simply observed.    Then they took action, deliberately taunting him, secure in the knowledge that they can simply turn around and hiss angrily at him, or jump out of reach.  This stops him in his tracks and he romps back to me.

Everything Winston does is done at pace, of course!  So I have spent much of the last couple of weeks charging around in hot pursuit, ready to scoop him up to remove him from danger.  

I have begun training him and he is very receptive, except when he is not!  

He takes several naps throughout the day - for which I am truly thankful, for young Winston has turned our peaceful lives upside down.  The gardens and the house have all been zoned into accessible/safe-ish areas.  Thank goodness we have internal stable doors for when the cats require feeding, but Winston is awake and on the prowl.  

'See it, eat it!' is his motto.

Organised chaos.  Long days and short nights.  My house and garden are constantly evolving as we strive to make them reasonably puppy-safe.     Luckily, he is easily distracted by a squeaky toy, or a thrown ball.  But, he doesn't forget, he goes back for more fun later.  

I adore the little chap, but I am worn out.  

Most of it is down to Winston, but there have been other things going on at the same time - our dear DiL, MingMing, was in hospital in Shanghai for a week.   Thankfully, all is well, but it was a worrying time.  At the same time, our oldest grandson has been/is doing his GCSE exams, which means that often a lift to/from school is necessary.   The school bus is generally pretty good, but it doesn't always arrive on time and no one needs the extra stress of that before an examination.

As for the title of this post - well, Winston has been with us a little under three weeks and I have shed half a stone.  An unexpected benefit, but I'll take that.

His latest bit of mischief?  The safest area of the garden (newly fenced, especially for him) also happens to contain the old hurdy-gurdy washing line, a horrible contraption, but useful.  This morning just after I had pegged out a wash load, young Mr Winston came along and pulled one or two of the longer articles off the line.

Another job to add to the 'To Do' list.  Buy a new washing line and site it in another area of the garden, out of Winston's reach.    Meanwhile, the vegetable beds have now all been enclosed in new fencing because Winston has show a great desire to get stuck into them.  The polytunnel has some old fly-screen doors pressed back into use to act like stable doors and prevent him from getting in and poisoning himself with the tomato plants, etc.

He keeps us on our toes!

I haven't had any time to read your blog posts or do any of my usual internet reading.  This post has been typed up over several days, so apologies if it is a complete mess.  No time to correct anything.  Winston is finally asleep and I need to get some food organised for when the school bus brings the grandchildren home.

Bye for now.

There is a Very Good Reason why Old People Shoudn't Have Babies...

 ...or take on young puppies.  

They are exhausting!  Really exhausting.  Routine life goes out of the window.

Yes, they are adorable bundles of fun but they chew carpets, rugs, furniture, fingers and clothes.  All with great enthusiasm and affection, even when they accidently draw blood.  Then there is the over enthusiastic gardening.  Not digging, yet.  Just grabbing any foliage, flowers or moss, along with a side-serving of bird poo, if available.  The careering around the garden, oblivious to the danger of a drop onto the paving slabs, or the danger of squeezing into a narrow gap by the wall.  

They also get between, in front, just behind and to the side of your feet.  Every footstep has to be monitored.  One develops a kind of 'puppy walk' widely spaced feet and constant scanning!  It looks weird, but it does work.  Very necessary when one is older.  Last thing we need is a tumble, or an injured puppy.

Winston was due to move in here on Sunday morning, but in the event he came at around 5pm on Saturday.  He is an amazing ball of energy who keeps on going, until he suddenly stops.  Snooze time.  Luckily he has plenty of naps.  I couldn't cope otherwise! 

Once he gets to sleep I spend time working with the old cats.  They are coming round.  Millie is still not impressed, but she is back in her favourite high-level spots and demanding food, special food because she is so traumatised.  Nice try Millie!  

Sparky has assessed the little chap, decided that he is a bit of a nuisance, but not a threat.  She has taken over the porch and insists on being fed out there, luckily it is quite large and has a very long window sill.  Between that, and the bench seat at the end, she is quite happy.  She has her own entrance, fresh air, a great view of the bird activity in the garden and access to all her facilities.  If she and Winston happen to come face to face in the garden, she stands her ground and he leaves her alone.

It has gone better than expected.  The length of my day has expanded, my knees have callouses from crawling around the floor playing with Winston,   I am grubby and worn out, but all my animals are happy and my husband is still getting fed homemade food.  The house even gets an occasional hoover - mainly because I am determined that the puppy will become used to all the normal household appliances, doorbells, telephones, and so on.

He is crate trained now and sleeps in it from 10.30pm until around 4.30-4.45am, when I let him out to do the necessary in the garden.  So far, so good.    He also takes daytime naps in there. It is his special place.

It is early days, but he is a delight.  Yes he has slightly weak back legs, but the vet has checked him over and is not concerned.  Yes he is rather brighter than my usual boys, so bright that I should be putting his name down for a good school, were he human.  Luckily he is not. 

Yes, our nice peaceful life has been radically changed, our routine totally trashed.  That is a good thing.  It is too easy to become set in our ways.  A little shake-up now and then is probably good for us.