Click on Christmas

Well, that's "virtually" all my shopping done for another year.

On line is the perfect way to go for this lazy old armchair shopper.

 

 

For Geordie I've bought "The Stag at e-Bay" by e-Landseer to hang

beside his bed.  That's one of his ancestors bottom right you know.

 

 

On Etsy I tapped in "pink + princess" and came up with this stunning little

outfit for Miss Mouche.  I got the last one in her size - ooof!

However, when I Googled "Xmas balls" the round, spherical objects that

appeared on my screen were certainly not what I had in mind for my tree

- with, or without, tinsel!

 

 

The big man's getting extremely excited this year and has been on Santa

watch for several days now.  I confess to being a little anxious about

this because should "deerhound" meet "reindeer" it could be venison,

not turkey, on the lunchtime menu.

 

 

Must dash now as I'm just about to shimmey up the old apple tree to cut

some mistletoe for the Chateau, but don't forget that the Long Dog shop

will be open until midnight on Christmas Eve for all your last minute purchases.

No stash is ever too big!

 

 

"In the meadow you can see a snowman ......."

- at least I hope that's what it is.

Geordie hurry up with that ladder please I haven't got all day!

 

 

 

 



Murmurings at Mouline

My first thought was that the nuclear reactor at nearby Chinon had finally

gone on the blink.

 

 

My second thought was what, besides the furry ones, my sewing and a corkscrew,

should I take down into the cave to sit it out until the men in bio-hazard suits arrived with

their geiger counters to assess the situation.

 

 

And then my final thought was - starlings! 

It's murmuration season once more and the sky behind Chateau Long Dog

was full of them this morning all wheeling and turning

over the fields in the early light.

Magic - carry on squadron leader!

 



The Seven Plagues of Mouline

So far this year Mouche, Geordie and I have been cursed with:

1.  piddling rats

2.  pooing mice

3.  angry hornets

4.  bewildered bees

5.  determined ants and

6.  today's offering is swarming flies

 

I'm going to open a book on what the next one will be. 

All you have to do to place your bet is simply send me your prediction for No 7

but hurry as you never know when the next pestilence will arrive!

 

Jacqueline, before you decide to guess "woodworm" that doesn't count

because they come under the auspices of

"a necessary evil" here at the Chateau.

 

The only reason the place has been standing for so long

is because they all hold hands.

It's a strange quirk they have but

"Don't let go chaps and for heaven's sake don't applaud!"

 

Pass me the number six fly swat please Mouche there are matters to attend to

 and then perhaps afterwards we can make a batch of

Garibaldi biscuits with the left overs.

Waste not, want not as Granny H would have said. 

 

Fingers came before forks .....

 

.... so look away now - it won't be pretty!

This is getting beyond a joke!

Picture the scene - it's Saturday evening round about supper time, the shutters have been closed and the house is all toasty warm.  I've just been for a wee (but there's no need to picture that unless you're some kind of a pervert), the dogs for once have settled quietly and there's a neat little pile of digestive biscuits waiting patiently to be dipped one by one into an adjacent cup of tea.  Bliss.

 

 

It's the moment I've been waiting for all week - the television is tuned to BBC1, the glitter

ball appears upon the screen and the band strikes up that old familiar tune. 

Hold onto your sequins, here comes Strictly!
 

 

 It's at that precise moment that le bon dieu decides he's going to rearrange the schedules with a re-run of Armageddon II.  The sky for miles around lights up, rain lashes the terrace sideways sending plastic chairs tumbling like wind-blown leaves and the biggest clap of thunder since the outbreak of WWII takes out the satellite dish.  My beautiful glitter ball has been replaced by a trite little message saying "Sorry - no signal".  Merde!  This is the third time this series and I'm beginning to take it very personally indeed.

 

 

Le bon dieu also decides to take out the lights as well for good measure and I stumble about the place tripping on Geordies moose and assorted tennis balls in my search for a torch.  In the meantime the phantom digestive nicker has struck under cover of darkness (a real opportunist that one), my tea has gone luke warm, I need another wee and I'm ever so slightly pissed off.

Wanted for questioning!

 

Normal service was finally resumed in time to see the final recap and a repeat of Midsummer Murders.  Don't you just love a quiet Saturday night in, in front of the tele?

 

Misnomer?

I'm beginning to think that Rain Dance wasn't the smartest of

titles I've ever chosen for a design because it hasn't stopped

raining in this neck of the woods since it's release with a bit of

early hail and lots of rumbling thunder thrown in for good measure.

 

 

I think I should set about designing a companion piece called Sundance to

neutralise Kokopelli's influence or perhaps the real reason for all this is

because I tinkered with his "assets" and that's what's caused the downturn in

the weather.  He's "put on his parts" so to speak!

 

 

Maybe this group of illegal Morris Dancers could put things right

if I asked them nicely.  What do you think of "Snowstorm" as the

working title for my next design by the way?

 

 

Perhaps not  .........

 

 



Poppy Day

 

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.

 

 

At this time of year when we remember the dead of two World Wars and other subsequent conflicts around the globe. and knowing something of what it is like to have come from a military family (albeit second generation), my thoughts seem naturally to have turned to soldiers, their loved ones and just what they put at risk each day as part of their jobs just to keep us all safe.  We owe them all such an enormous debt of gratitude which we occasionally forget and this is really what prompted me to write the following lines. 

 

What happens to our heroes when they come home again from war?

What happens to our brave young men, heads full of things they saw?

Do we shower them with honours, give them the freedom of the town?

No, they're all too soon forgotten when there's no enemies around.

 

What happens to the families of the men who don't come back?

What happens to the widows left to "soldier on" alone?

And what about their children, no more football with their dad

Just mummy coping best she can and oh so very sad.

 

What happens to the soldiers who've lost an arm or leg?

Do we pat them on the shoulder, shall we send them out to beg?

And what about the others who still fight on in their heads

Remembering all their comrades, some sore wounded, others dead.

 

What happens when it kicks off next and men go off to war?

Come lads the call to duty, you've seen it all before.

So grab your combat vests my boys, face front and shoulders straight

We need your skills, come risk your lives, there's enemies at the gate!

  

Goose Green, Falkland Islands.

 Thank you all. 

 

 



This week just gets better and better .....

.... and it's only Wednesday!

 

 

First of all a food parcel arrived from Blightey.

No Alice dear it wasn't just shoved through the cat flap.

Scotch eggs, hot crossed buns, microwavable tiny Christmas puddings,

mince pies and a hunk of strong Cheddar.  My cup, as well as my freezer,

truly runneth over now.

 

 

All my needs seem to have been thought of:

- delicious foodie treats to nibble my way through the winter,

- lots of new reading matter to keep the brain ticking over

- and little Dolores in Marseilles has kindly sent me a

surprise gift of some of the wonderful soap from her region.

I don't think it was a hint!  It's really exciting to

receive a parcel when you weren't expecting a delivery.

Merci beaucoup D!

 

 

Did I say "all my needs"?

 

 

 



The heavens have opened .....

.... and here it is!

 

 

 

 RAIN DANCE

Price: 16,00 euros

Size: 203 x 296

 

 

Take a brolley, wear your wellies and don't step in the puddles
on your way to buy a copy!