Peggy Flobbins' Double.

Peggy asked me if she could have a quick go on the blog. I said 'we'll see' but she gave me the look. And when Peg gives me 'the look'...



it's very hard to refuse. So here she is.

I've been allowed on the blog - just for a moment - to tell you something that happened. You may not think it exciting but c'mon -when I tell you that a new lushury blankie is the best thing since sliced chicken for me and Teas, you'll unnerstand that it's the very simple things in life that get us all waggy.

So ...

In American Kentucky is a lady called Faye who had a postcard from someone in Leicestershire and on that postcard was a dog called Samy and I think Samy is my gran. Or grandad. What do you think?


See? It could be me couldn't it? Although I can't quite make out whether this dodgy (that's what me and Teas call dogs) has a mohican like me, it definitely has my facial expression (Teas told me to write that. Facial expression.)

Just for comparison, this is me. I stood near some leaves just like Samy. I think we are Double Dogs and probably related.

I would love to know what Sammy smells like. Then I'd know if we're family. I smell a bit sweaty, a bit dusty and very lovely. Except when She baths me in Special Anti- Allergy Sensitive Skin Shampoo. Then I smell fresh as lavender and every one comes to have a sniff of me.

I just wanted to tell you this. I know I had to use The Look to do it but sometimes a girl has to use whatever works.

I wonder if Teas has a Double Dog somewhere out there. Sometimes I think she wonders too. 'Specially as she's probably a grandma herself by now.

Cosy

This time last year, I was feeling a little...low. It happens most years when the clocks go back. Unable to concentrate on anything for long, I started to crochet what became known in our house as lushury blankie. (Peggy speak for 'luxury blanket').

It looked like this



Peggy had her eye on it from the very start. Every time I picked it up to to do a row, she would be there, tangling herself up in the wool and trying to curl up on a corner, determined to lay claim to it before anyone else.

Now it's finished and it looks like this - over six feet long and as wide as my arm span. It's everything Peg hoped for and more.

And it's proving very popular

For when there's something good on TV

And for when there isn't

Freedom

It was 26th July at 10.30 am. A beautiful Sunday morning. I didn't even realize it was happening as I exhaled a last, delicious plume in my comfy garden spot and nicely satiated, stubbed out for the last time.
But that was it. Something had just clicked. No more.
I had to unpick the fabric of my routine and sew it back together with a brand new pattern. Every time I let the dogs out, I had to stay inside. I couldn't trust myself to join them in the garden. I couldn't sit in my usual sunny spot and watch the birds. I couldn't linger. If I stood still at all, the ache would gnaw too deeply. I cleaned the cooker and walked the dogs rather more than was necessary. If I'd been a runner I'd have doubled my miles. I couldn't write because I couldn't sit still and my mind was too fizzy. If you spoke to me I would snarl. I was not nice in those first weeks. But it got easier and I'm nicer now. Although I still haven't managed to erase that demonic stare and probably never will.

Painting by Nicotine Free Woman

Do My Buns Look Big in This?

Peggy Flobbins can't be trusted.

Teabag can (sort of)

The cakes remained drool free. At least for the duration of the photos. Now, my question to you is ..... do my buns look big in this? (I know, they're really fairy cakes but that wouldn't pun, would it). I'm template tinkering again and experimenting with uploading big photos which I've only just discovered how to do.
Are they falling off your screen?

Oh and help yourself. They are courtesy of The Younger One. Who is now at Big School. How did that happen?

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