The Dog days

A while ago, we agreed to mind our friends' dog, the Dog, again. Usually, it was almost a pleasure to change our whereabouts for a week or two, stay in town, and have a nice coffee shop around the corner (not exactly around the corner, but at least not too far away). Sure, we had to commute to work, but we always do, so no bother there.

Unfortunately, since adopting our girls, our situation has changed; still, it became obvious our friends didn't have anyone else they could ask for a favour like this. We even briefly considered bringing the girls with us. The thing is, Little Mary is still peeing here and there, outside the litter box, and I simply couldn't picture her in our friends' spotless house. In the end, we had to make a decision.

So now we're in a situation where Fred is driving over 30 km into town to feed the Dog and take him for a walk. He stays the night and comes back home in the morning. Ten days done. One more week to go. I can't wait for this problematic friendly favour to be over.

Every day is a gift: a disorganised reflection

On Monday morning, while I was waiting at the bus stop, I noticed a flurry of feathers drifting through the air on the opposite side of the road. A few birds, mostly starlings and sparrows, were gathering them one by one, very diligently. The owner was, unfortunately, deceased. A wood pigeon, I assume (I saw another nearby, collecting twigs and swooping dangerously low over the street). Yes, that's it. Life is dangerous. 

On Wednesday, we came back from town to our village. I slept for about ten hours, just couldn't help myself.

Thursday and Friday were a bit busier at work – nothing major, but compared to the previous two weeks, I was very efficient. April claim they call it. Almost know what I'm doing. 

Since my last post, only good things have happened to us, but the same can't be said for our neighbours. One of them died on Tuesday – a good woman who loved our Richard, and who, unfortunately, also loved to smoke, even with her heart issues. And the cat I was minding in February is at the end of her life. She might be put down tomorrow. 

Below, Saturday's very unusual supper of mine, a pizza from Tony's; Sunday's meeting with a friend; a glimpse from Tuesday evening's walk with the Dog; a cute, knitted arrow pointing the way to my husband's workplace and a dead bumblebee found during the same Thursday walk at the outskirts of Droichead Átha.

A non-update

Second week of work in a new role wasn't all that productive, but at least I settled into it. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday sort of blurred together: Fred acted as my chauffeur, I spent far too much on coffees and croissants, and the weather was rather off – typical really.

Got a lovely gift from my husband, dark green Converse shoes. The next day (Thursday), I bought him Leonard Cohen's Poems and Songs (and a book about autism for myself – Wired Our Own Way). Today, I got a new pair of sheepskin sleepers (rubber sole on the old ones started to crumble like shortbread). We're both spoiled kids.

Below, one of my lunch breaks, the book and the Dog.

From under the duvet

Woke up at five. Fred was already getting ready to head off for his duties. 

At work, again, what a relief. We talked about 20th-century European history, prisms separating white light, change and how people get on with it, being content with ourselves, and about using the deposit return scheme instead of binning plastic bottles like some lazy eejits do. And all of this outside of the curriculum, just like that, because we KNOW things.

In the morning the weather was much cheerier than yesterday. Didn’t start raining until after I’d already met Fred at a coffee shop and we were on our way home.
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So, it rains. No late stroll with the Dog. I'm tucked up under a duvet, listening to the liquid moonlight.

Pop

So off we went.
First to the sushi restaurant, then out for an early walk with the Dog.
Rain again. We picked up the pace to avoid getting drenched.

The washing machine is murmuring; we're sitting in the living room side by side – the Dog snoring happily to my right, my husband scrolling the net to my left.

And look what he found: someone's turning 78 today!

Easter holidays

Arrrrghgh, I spent the Easter holidays mostly on my own (I'm not counting the Dog). On Saturday evening, with clothes and laptops packed, we drove to Dún Dealgan to catch up with our friends before their trip to the Canary Islands. Fred was working that day, and again the next day, same today. It was raining (only now it's starting to clear up a bit), didn't feel like going outside; I'm bored.

Rang my parents yesterday morning to check how they were. They'd already had breakfast with święconka. I'm not sure if the food (eggs, bread, sausage, salt & butter) was actually blessed, maybe it was, though my parents aren't really firm believers and they usually don't attend Sunday Mass. I, on the other hand, didn't make anything special to eat; I left that chore to my husband, who'd cooked bigos and żurek earlier in the week. We brought all this food with us here, and I had both dishes on Sunday. Later, I watched a very interesting film, The Outrun (2024), with Saoirse Ronan. I recommended it to Fred, and we ended up watching it again together in the evening.

Side note: I tend to say "Happy Holidays" to people around Easter time, though I know it's not a typical greeting in English. In Polish language we have the phrase Wesołych świąt, which works well for both, Christmas and Easter, and for any other religious holiday that involves joy & happiness. I like the idea that people who hear the greeting can interpret it in their own way, depending on what kind of holy day they want to observe.

Sometime after breakfast, I was surprised to hear that Jorge Bergoglio, known as Pope Francis, had died that morning. Well, not really surprised – he had been in and out of the hospital over the past few weeks. His official opinions regarding the Russian invasion of Ukraine were abominable, but now the king is dead, long live the king. I'm sure I'll be hearing about this whole circus many more times yet.

So much for the religious subjects. From our bedroom window we have a clear view of the Croslieve Mountain, and a bit of Slieve Gullion to the left, partly hidden by the trees. I want to go out. Not tomorrow. Today!

This and that

We had a lovely time the day before yesteday. My husband was at the doctors', it was a quick check up that didn't explained anything. Well, no news is good news at times. We went to Dún Dealgan for lunch in our favourite coffee shop, just flat whites and pancakes with fruit and maple syrup (for me, his were with nutella and banana). Later we enjoyed a short walk to one book shop and back. Of course, we checked some Barker shoes in a shoe shop on the way, as we usually do. 

Yesterday was not too bad either. In the morning I had to go to work, but it didn’t spoil my day, Thursday's group is more mature and independent, I can relax and nurture a feeling of competence. Home life was comforting, even if some news was grim: in my family home the eldest of my parents’ dogs is not well. Changes like this are difficult. I rememeber her as a puppy with a wrinkled forehead. I'm worried that I won't see her again.

Below, the scene from our Wednesday's pet sitting pleasures; we were trying to watch Back to Black, but it wasn't a good film.

So, why do I insist on writing in English, when I don't have as many interesting things to say? At this point I don't know. It might have something to do with the year of changes, but currently I don't know what it means.

One

Begin at the beginning, they say.

Sunny outside. I'm still in my dressing gown, with an empty stomach, unless you count my morning green tea. Should I cross the street now, I ponder, just put my trousers on and go, or wait after the breakfast? No, it will bother me the whole time. Obligations always bother me like mosquitos. Go now.