Its not a Blog anymore
I was thinking today, while i was settling back into the work routine. I dont like the idea of a blog. I love to write, when i have time but i dont want to feel pressured to write something cool, interesting or factual that needs hours of researching. Time, that i dont have. So i am going to rename this 'Blog' into my Country Journal.
It will probably be fairly boring, full of random thoughts on my life and interests. all the stuff that floats about in my slightly scrambled brain when im doing something that requires very little brain power.
When i was a kid i had a diary.... i think everyone had one once. i still have it, i looked at it the other day as its saved in my treasure box. The first few weeks have boxes full of writing, all my day, written down in reasonable detail, by about march i was skipping days and the ones i had filled in consisted of got up, went school, came home, watched tv, went bed... i had to smile when i looked at it because i remember my 11 year old self doing it. mum said i should keep a diary, she has kept one for years, but it was boring and i couldnt be bothered and i forgot. The reason why i have kept this diary is for one entry.
May 24th 1993. The entry goes:
went to school, went swimming, teddy my pony came. rode on him. went bed
I can remember that day as if it were yesterday, little monster that he was. Anyway i suppose the reason im telling you this rubbish is because i might not be writing in this journal reguarly, i might forget, or just cant think of anything to write. feel free to read it, or not, but i just want it to be a bit of fun, a bit of an insight into my crazy life out here in france.
This morning, once the kids were dispatched to school, (gone for most of the week now to other parents) animals all fed, watered etc we took old Cokin to the V.E.T. Shes suffering from an eye ulcer sadly, and as its her only eye and add to that she has a cataract and is almost 15 we have been bombarding it with medication to try and stop it getting any worse. Happy to say its looking much better so far. She potters about bumping into things, shes deaf as well, but she gets about. i hate it when animals get old, apart from the thought of them not getting under my feet anymore, its the thought that i might have to make 'that' decision at some point.
Angel, the vets personal friend and sponsor is currently nursing a hoof abcess. having gone through this many, many times i can see that its on the way out through her heel, so i will leave it alone.
The amount of mud down the field is incredible, the path we take is like a peat bog, at the weekend i deftly managed to snatch Dan from a muddy end, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a toddler before he landed headfirst in the mire. i was secretly impressed by my refexes.
The dogs seem to be in a permanent state of filth, Max came in the other day and lay down by the white wall under the window in the kitchen. there is now a muddy smear that i cant pass off as a shadow and wont wash off. if you add that to the dust elephants that live under the french dressers alongside the lost tennis balls, you will realise that housework is not my forte. to be honest though between the kids and dogs and the woodburner the kitchen has a layer of dust literally 5 mins after its been cleaned, so im fighting a losing battle really.
Still, i have managed to finished 2 Daypack orders today, i managed to miss standing in the dead rat outside my workshop and only got the side of my hand in the cat pee that was on a roll of insulation. ill take that as a win today.
it is monday afterall.