Welcome to my perfumed garden

...Of walking a mostly-blind dog in wet snow in the almost-dark when school's turning out.

Almost an inch deep now. Buggerbuggerbugger.

We're still planning to drive back to Withnell tomorrow - srzly, they're going to have to close the M62 to stop us, we are so ready to be home already!

I am, however, starting to wibble about the proposed weekend in Matlock. I mean, the met office are saying the snow will be gone by the weekend, but then they said this weather wouldn't be here till tomorrow teatime so once again, I point my angry finger in a south-westerly direction and indicate by means of semaphore and Aldis lamp that they are made of purest  F.A.I.L.

ETA: Oh, now  you change your forecast NOW you issue your warnings. Bit  bloody late when there's already an inch of the stuff on the ground, y'shower of bastards!

We are home! 

The sun is shining, but it's October so it's on the nippy side and we've lit the stove which means oven baked potatoes for supper! I have a mug of hot Ribena, skies are blue, the woods are looking gorgeous, life is good.

Mark has been streaming Radio Rebelde in the car, live from Cuba via the iphone which was - squeeful and exciting for about fifteen minutes; live news on parade-preps from Santiago and Santa Clara did lose novelty value rather quickly. With Cuban Radio in general (and Rebelde in particular) enough really is quite as good as a feast, rather more than enough to be entirely honest, but a happy Che-Day to you all, should you be celebrating today. *g*

Hamish update: wee doggie is still not himself but very much on the mend, though blood tests have shown a slightly reduced liver capacity. The new diet is on hold and he's condemned to eat chicken and (Tilda organic Basmati) rice for the next several days by order of the vet, poor lamb. Thanks so much for all your good wishes which I'll endeavour to answer asap.

Such a year for sloes! I picked a pound in no time at all yesterday, got scratched to pieces but there will be sloe gin again this Christmas, oh yes indeedy! It's been 3 years since we had a decent sloe harvest and I've missed my gin, deed I have.

Yesterday was my sister's birthday. Amongst other things we gave her the Help! DVD, fine wines and even finer chocs and was pleased to see her so delighted. She's a bugger of a time of it lately, she doesn't deserve it. I hope Dad gives her some peace this weekend so she can enjoy her various delights.

Also happy birthday John Lennon. You would have been 69 today, bless your heart.

And Barak Obama, WTF?!

Our dog Hamish was ill yesterday; very, very ill indeed. He started off being just depressed, quiet, off his food, generally unwell all through the day and we had to keep a constant eye on him. He has underlying digestive and thyroid conditions anyway and we wondered if the change in diet was upsetting him but then - I can't bring myself to go into details because living though it once was bad enough but we really thought he was dying and, at one point (when he crept off and we found him lying in the lane in the pitch dark-sheeting rain), dead.

The vet thinks he's eaten something, possibly carion, that's poisoned him - £75 worth of injections later, he definitely seems on the mend (though still quiet and very sorry for himself).

Anyway, that took most of yesterday and into the night, then Dad was up all night with the TV on full blast, some drunk attempted to call us from a mobile at 4am and...

Tired today, very - but relieved.

It's a gorgeous day. I should go for a walk, really. ::continues to stare out of window, mouth open, slight drool::

That's him, in the icon - Has an underactive thyroid! Oh thank GOD! He's been poked and prodded and tested and tested, about 5 gallons of blood taken from him poor mite. When the last tests (Cushings disease) came back neg the vets started making hesitant, worried noises about liver cancer but it's just the poor boy's thyroid and easily sorted with meds, apparently.

The relief, as you can imagine, is mighty.

In other news, it's black as Hades out there. Will it never stop raining?

ETA: It's hammering down like stair-rods, as my Mum would've said. O:!