Well, it's my theory anyway, that Broc isn't a full Jack Russell but has some Daschund in him. It would explain the longish body, dwarfy legs, weird big floppy ears and the wavy nature of his coat. In better news there's to be a vote of 'Confidence' in the fat arrogant lying slacker. Not been much hope since the EU referendum and he already owns too many to lose, but this might be the first slim chink of sunlight. Anyway, Monday morning and it sounds like our Dawn has chickenpox (edit: just a heavy hay fever thing - sent her some of my fave whisky which always helps me).
The week has mostly gone now with minor novel improvements to show for it but not much else. Once again we have a rat problem so I'm doing the poisoning thing, which I never like doing. Broc not old enough to tackle them yet but he's keen. Tony's van wouldn't start on Thursday so I drove - a claggy climb up Robinson but Robinson didn't care. With the price of fuel, strikes me that we might be going rather to the arse end of the Lakes at the wrong time. Next week Pat & Marg are going to Centerparcs so I will have lots of time to write, paint and play. No walkies though and Tim in Scotland - gonna stock up on RK's best and have a very stinky week!
Was probably something else that happened but can't think what. Oh, my Irish passport came back to that's a relief.
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