Mad Dogs...

 Dear Marmite

I know you must have heard the saying; Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun - well, over here Englishmen appear to be even more crazy than the saying suggests. Here is why. I went walking in the rain last Sunday with Ezra-Mae in the stroller plus Shadow on her extending lead. Along the bank of the canal for as far as I could see were MEN.. Just men - sitting on a wet canal bank in damp, chilly conditions dipping their lines in the water. Apparently it was a competition. Madness! 

My walk with Shadow proved that she is herself, a little mad too. Holding an extending lead with a chunky handle while pushing a stroller on bumpy ground is not ideal. This you must realise, is an understatement. The daft dog kept walking ahead and then across my path garrotting Ezra-Mae who was tucked up in the stroller. When the mood took her, this silly dog then dropped back until the lead was stretched and I was jerked to one side as I was pushing.This made the stroller lurch to the side.  I know that you wouldn't have behaved in such a despicable way. 

I have told Danielle that if I have both dog and baby again, I need a proper lead. I need one that isn't stretchy. The annoyance of this will stay with me, no doubt for some time. I returned home grumpy and muttering about the mud, the dog and  the weather. Once in my garden I stuck Shadow in a bucket of water to wash the worst of the mud off and left her to shake herself down while I sorted out the baby. 

To be honest, I thought about dunking  myself in a bucket the previous day. I had been to Wolverton Christmas Fair where I had felt pleasantly warmed by the atmosphere and music despite the continual drizzle. I cycled to the fair and then when the rain had reached downpour proportions, I decided enough was enough, I needed to return before it got dark as well. Cycling  home along the towpath, I ended up covered in mud and I was wet through despite wearing a raincoat that clearly hadn't lived up to my expectation of keeping me dry. I am still not sorted with the right clothes for English weather and I have been back for almost two years. 

Locally, in a small town, the lights for Christmas look spectacular. My photo hasn't done them justice. Small market towns steeped in history have ridden the COVID storm admirably. The specialist shops look as if they are thriving despite the gloomy economic news.  On the high Street, the food delivery robots were neatly lined up outside Costa Coffee - I presume they were waiting patiently in line for a carry out to warm their wheels before they set off to deliver goodies.  The scene was very much 2020s but the feel could have been Victorian. Even on a damp evening, the decorations looked beautiful. Well done Stony. You lifted my spirits. 

Perhaps it was this shot in the arm that inspired me to write my Christmas cards at 6am this morning. They have stamps on them and they will be in the post today! The lights in my livingroom are currently draped over a curtain pole. They are still not up. I am giving myself a SMART deadline... December 2022. After all, I have all the time in the world. 

You are in a better place, Marms. No winter chill to ache your joints.

Love you as always

XXX