The Border Collie. A Walk With Samantha And The Dogs.

Samantha and I regularly meet up these days to walk our dogs Ned the Border Collie and Sadie the German Shepherd. Sadie has become like a big sensible sister to Ned and tries hard to set him a good example. Most of the time Sadie is well behaved, probably due to her getting a bit elderly, except for the times when she comes across a deep muddy puddle. She has taken to jumping into them and getting into a terrible soggy mess. Maybe this helps her arthritis? Unfortunately this behaviour has coincided with me getting my new campervan, the inside of which is now starting to smell like a dog kennel!

Ned is still young though, and although he is a quick learner, his impulsive nature and deep instinctive desire to round up other dogs and their owners, not to mention horses and their riders, or tractors come to that, and lately he has had a go at herding trains, make our walks a bit traumatic at times. Luckily Ned is very fond of his ball and Sam is able to use that fact to gain control of him. If he doesn't respond to his name Sam has only to shout the word 'ball' and Ned will run back to her side. Sometimes though Ned's excitement is so intense that not even the ball will take his focus away from storming off to see what havoc he can cause. For it has to be said that even in an extremely large and apparently empty field Ned will always find something that requires his urgent undivided attention.

Holding a conversation with Sam as we stroll along with the two dogs can be, shall I say, interesting? I call it a conversation for want of a better word, but mostly it is just Sam doing the talking. Blimey she can't half rabbit on! Luckily I am a good listener, or at least I am good at looking as though I am listening. A typical 'conversation' during a walk with the dogs is along these sort of lines.


Sam is talking: "so I need to be back home at NED!! three o'clock at the latest OH MY GOD!!  NOOOO!! NED!! Good boy Neddy! What a good boy! Yes three o'clock because Harvey will be home at NED! COME! NEDDY!! Oh for God's sake! Where's he going now? NED!! Did you see which way he went? NED!! NED!! NED!!!! BALL!!! BAAAALLL!!!! Oh here he comes. Naughty Neddy! Why can't you be good like Sadie? BAAALL!! Can you walk that side John? NED!! You keep making me walk HE'S DROPPED THE BLOODY BALL!! through the long grass. Did you see where the ball went? Find your ball Ned. NEEEDD!! Stay here. NOOO NED! OH NO!!
NED  STAY!!! and then it's swim club at four and I promised him BALL!! BALL!! BAAALL!!! BLOODY DOG!! BAAAALLLL!!! a pizza for his tea. Tomorrow I am having lunch with BALL!!! mum and then I really must get on with NED!!! COME!!! doing some housework and also I need NOOO!! NED!! COME HERE!! BAAALLL!!!! to practice some new songs on NOOOO NED!! NOT ON THE PATH!! Oh Gawd! Now I have to carry a NED!! bag of poo all the NOO!! way round. NED BALL!!! new songs on my guitar. NEDDYYY!!!! BAAAALLL!!!!! BAAAAALLLL!!!!!! Do you think my legs look too white? They have never been this white BAAALL!! before in summer. NED STAY!! I wish my legs weren't so NOOO NED!! white. Do you think I should BAAAALLL!! use some fake tan? NED!! NED!! NED!! BAAALLL!!!! It needs to be BALL!! done properly. BAAALLL!!!! BAAAALLLL!!! BAAAAAALLLLL!!!!!"

Ned the Border Collie.

It goes on like this until the end of our walk, and Ned is on his lead again, at which stage Sam will say to me something like: "I enjoyed that John. It's so peaceful out here in the fields. Ned was so good today don't you think? You were a bit quiet though. Is everything all right?"

To which I usually reply, "Yes I'm fine, just got a bit of a headache that's all."

What's Up Doc?

Even though I was feeling so much better, back to full health in fact, I still kept my appointment at the doctor's yesterday. She did all the usual things doctor's do. Checking my blood pressure, listening to my heart with her stethoscope. She even listened all down my back with the stethoscope. Yes my doctor is a woman. Apparently there are quite a few of them about these days. Something to do with equal opportunities I believe. It turns out that after many years of being held back in life, that some women are quite intelligent.

I had to take my clothes off  for the examination. I could see she was really impressed and amazed at my physique.

"My goodness Mr Bain!" she announced breathlessly, as I stepped out of my boxer shorts, "that is really impressive. Have you been working out?"

"No of course not Doc," I answered, flexing my muscles shamelessly for her pleasure, "what you see here is just the way I naturally am. I'm just very lucky I suppose."

She then glanced downward and I heard her give an involuntary little gasp of pure delight. "That is the biggest one I have ever seen," she said,  her voice trembling with excitement," I bet you get lots of comments about it?"

"No not many" I answered, "Not many people get to see it these days."

"Oh such a shame," she said, "it really is beautiful. You ought to show it off more. Would you mind if I took a photo of it?"

How could I refuse after all the nice things she had said about it? So I said yes. It took a while, and a lot of different positions before she was happy with the angle, but in the end she had quite a few snaps of it looking its very best.

What she said about it, made me think I ought to get it out more often, and show it off more, but it seems to me that everyone has a tattoo these days. So even though it is a big beautiful work of art I don't personally think it is anything special anymore so I think I shall continue to keep it hidden. Unless by special request.

Anyway, eventually she remembered what I was there for, managed to compose herself, recover her professionalism, and give me a very thorough medical examination. It turns out that I am a very healthy specimen of a man, apart that is, from a rather fast heartbeat and slightly raised blood pressure. I didn't tell her this was due to her being a very attractive woman. I know one shouldn't think of one's doctor in this way, but the truth is, I never have been able to resist a nicely turned female ankle!





 

Speak Now.

This last few days I have been feeling a little off colour. Happily today I feel a bit better. I don't really know what was wrong, except I was feeling weak and slightly nauseaus. Oh blimey here we go again. How do you spell nauseus? Nauseas? No that don't look right. I shall have to look it up. Shouldn't be a problem really because I'm pretty sure it begins with N. Ah ha! I see it has an O in it. Never knew that! Nauseous. Well you learn something new every day. Anyway that's how I have been feeling. A bit sick. I'm saying no more on the subject though 'cos it's making me feel nauseous just thinking about it. Changing the subject....

It takes me absolute ages to write and send text messages on my smart phone. Yesterday for some reason it had turned itself to swype mode. Swype is the method where you don't take your finger off and simply move from one letter to the next. It's supposed to be very quick. I gave it a go but to be honest it didn't help any. Perhaps it is useful if your fingers aren't fat sausages, but otherwise it wasn't really helping me. But what I wondered is that little microphone symbol in the corner of the keypad? I shall touch it and see what happens... Speak now it says. Speak now. Too late it's gone. Try again. Speak now, "Hello my name is John and I am very good looking and have the body of a young Greek god and would like to meet a single rich woman." Working it says. Working, but nothing happening. Working. Hey what's this on the screen? The exact words I just said! That is amazing! My smartphone has a facility that lets me speak my text messages. How cool is that? This discovery made me very happy and excited yesterday. It doesn't take a lot to have that effect. I sent a lot of text messages yesterday. Probably went over my limit. But I have got over the excitement now. Almost. Let's just say it has subsided somewhat.


Back on the feeling unwell front. I decided to call into the Doctor's and make an appointment. Better safe than sorry I always say. Actually I don't know why I just said that. I don't always say it. It is a phrase I reserve for those occasions when I think I might be at risk of popping my clogs, kicking the bucket, oh all right, let's not kid ourselves, dropping down dead! Heart! I worry about my heart! If it stops I'm buggered! Buggered. It's a strange word. I'm using it in the context of meaning done for, finished, without hope! I just thought I'd mention that. Just in case you take it literally and think someone is going to jump on my dead body and have... Well you know.. I don't need to spell it out. Where was I? Oh yes. As I went in to the surgery the Doctor was just coming out to do his rounds.

"Morning John, he says,"haven't seen you for ages."

"No Doc," I say, "that's because I haven't been well."

He finds this funny. I suppose it is really.

I have an appointment for Thursday morning. Hopefully I shall live to keep it.

As Time Goes By.

My extremely handsome son George started his new part time summer job today working as a waiter in a small restaurant. He went off a little nervously, because he hasn't done this type of job before. He is a determined lad though. That's two jobs he has now. The other one is working in forestry.

I think he will be better as a waiter than I used to be. He is much easier going than me. When I was a waiter I used to get very upset and angry at anyone who I thought was looking down at me. Snap your fingers, or whistle at me mister and you can forget about being served at any of my tables. I was fired from jobs frequently. What a good thing it was that it was possible to go easily from one place of work to another in those days of my youth.

EHS George has already on his first day met a couple of people who don't know that it is not a good idea to disrespect waiting staff. But he has also found out that the nice customers far outweigh the bad. I think that meeting all these customers will do wonders for his confidence, and he will be well able to deal with things when he goes off to university in September.

How quickly the years go by. I was remembering when he was a little boy, how he used to love me making up bedtime stories about how he went to watch Everton his favourite team play football, and the team were short of players so they put out an announcement, "Is there a boy called George Bain in the crowd? We have heard that he is a really good player."

Anyway in the story, to cut a long story short George goes on and scores a hat trick and Everton win the match. George loved that story and variations on the theme.

When he was about nine years old George had the real opportunity to play a five a side match at Goodison Park, home of his beloved Everton - George's great grandfather on his mothers side was actually one of the founders of Everton Football Club - and, oh how proud I was when he actually scored a goal during that match! My boy George, my extremely handsome son has scored a goal at Goodison Park. You could probably have heard my shouts of delight several miles away.

Now he is all grown up and off to University. The university is in Liverpool and his accommodation is only a twenty minute walk from Everton Football Club and Goodison Park. I think he will be very happy there. in the city of his grandfathers.

"Daddy tell me the story again."

"It's time to sleep now son. I'll tell it again tomorrow. Good night George."

"Good night Daddy. Daddy?"

"Yes son"

"Leave the landing light on won't you?

"Yes son."

"Daddy."

"Yes George."

"Leave the door a bit open."

"OK son. Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Daddy"

"Mmmnn."

"Everton!"

"Yeah!"

A Dirty Phone Call.

This happened years ago, but I only just recalled it last night when I couldn't sleep because of the heat.

We had been getting silent phone calls for a while. When I answered the caller would hang up straight away. When my wife answered there would be a bit of heavy breathing and grunting before she would hang up the phone. The sad person making the calls was becoming bolder every time though and as well as being a nuisance it was all becoming a bit scary. Well it is a weird feeling to think that someone, and probably someone we know, would want to put us through that sort of nastiness just to get their sexual kicks. My wife was becoming wary of answering the phone at all, but of course it has to be answered. I mean it could be a genuine call, such as a family member or our daughter needing picking up from somewhere. In my case these nuisance calls made me really angry and, oh how I would have liked to find out who was behind them. Only so that I could have a quiet word with him, and gently point out the error of his ways.

I was with my wife when the latest nuisance phone call came while were in the kitchen having a cup of tea one afternoon. It so happens that we were expecting a call from our daughter, so we were both caught off guard. My wife, anticipating that it would be our daughter on the end of the line, answered cheerily, "Hello darling."

This time the nuisance caller actually spoke. "Do you know what I'm holding in my hand?" he grunted.

"A telephone," she answered.

"I mean my other hand," he said, "It's long and hard."

"Is it a pencil?" she asked him.

"It's my hard cock," he moaned excitedly.

"Well," said my dear wife, "If you can hold it in one hand I'm not at all interested. Goodbye!" And she hung up the phone.


We never received any more nuisance calls after that. Which was a bit of a shame really. I would have enjoyed seeing how she dealt with the next one. What a woman!

Father's Day.

     Yesterday being Father's day I was privileged to spend time with both my lovely offspring. Somehow they have, despite me for a daddy, turned out to be children to be proud of. Probably mostly down to their mothers if the truth be told.
     My beautiful daughter Jodie and I spent some time estranged after her mum and me parted, but we are back on track now and she is still the lovely person she was as a little girl. It was the fact that we are both stubborn characters that kept us apart for a while, but we never stopped loving each other. Yesterday whilst we were talking I kept getting glimpses of her as the sweet little girl with the peaches and cream face I loved to kiss. She still has a lovely complexion and I still love to kiss her, he adds hastily.
     My extremely handsome son George is a lovely person, and brings lots of happiness into my life. He still lives at home with his mum and I see him every day. He is a godsend around the place, helping with chores when I feel too old to bother. In September he is off to university and I know I shall miss him terribly. But I shall make good use of my campervan and take trips to see him. Without being too much of an embarrassment I hope!
     As I have often said in these blog posts, I do have difficulty with relationships, especially when they become romantic. I feel a sadness at this of course, but thank goodness, that I somehow kept my children's mother's as friends. Less complications, less arguments. Better for us all. Well it makes sense to me.

     What about my dad? I never got to meet him. He buggered off when I was born. I expect he took one look at me and thought what an ugly little bastard! If only he'd stayed around he would have seen what a handsome devil I became.
     I have never missed him! There was a short period in my younger days when I would have liked to see him, but only so that I could punch him hard and knock him down. I'm over that now. I don't give a stuff about the selfish prick!
     I judge him on the way he totally abandoned us and gave up on his responsibilities towards his children, and on what my older brother and sister told me about him, and from what they told me, he was a waste of space. And yet he was a career soldier, a Regimental Sergeant Major. You surely need to be of strong character and moral fibre to do a job like that. Maybe he was a good actor?
     Oh well, perhaps my lack of success in life is partly down to inheriting his genes? But I love my kids and I have done everything I can to be a good father to them. They helped to shape me too. I hate to imagine what I would have become without them. They gave me purpose and reason. Because there was a time when I was going nowhere fast. Except maybe to hell in a handcart!

What Rubbish This Is. Or Garbage. Trash Even.

I so want to write something profound and inciteful, but I am tired. Oh blimey! A red line under the word inciteful. Why is that I wonder? I shall look in my dictionary........

Inciteful ain't in my dictionary. How odd. I'm pretty sure it's a proper word. My dictionary is no good. What's the point of a dictionary if it doesn't have every word in it? I bet Samuel Johnson wouldn't approve. Was it Johnson or Johnston? I can't remember. I bet he's turning in his grave! Unless he was cremated! In which case he wouldn't have that option. When I finally pop my clogs I want to be buried in a roomy coffin just in case something upsets me so much that I want to turn in annoyance.

I was so hungry this evening that I made myself a big meal. I had one of those Fray Bentos pies. Do you know them? They come in a round tin and you have to take the top off with a tin opener and put it in the oven. The pie, not the top, or the tin opener come to think of it. I know I shall put a picture of the lid on here. Hang on a minute while I get it out of the bin. Actually I say bin, but to be precise it isn't in the bin. I put my rubbish in a plastic carrier bag which hangs on the inside of the under sink cupboard door. I haven't got a bin. What happens is that eventually, when I have stuffed the plastic carrier bag with about six weeks worth of rubbish and the bag has split into several pieces I then spend half a day stuffing all the rubbish back into several hundred other bags which I tend to hoard for just such a situation. There was a time when I invested some money in the purchase of some extra large plastic bags, the type designed especially for household rubbish. This was a waste of time because they were too big to hang inside the under sink cupboard and I ended up with a rubbish bag half the size of a house spilling excess rubbish on the kitchen floor. And being as it was too heavy to carry I had to decant it all into smaller bags anyway.

My rubbish problem was solved for a while when I had a eureka moment. Why not, I thought, why not empty the rubbish bag as soon as it was full? Brilliant idea even though I do say so myself! I say the problem was solved for a while, which it was, but I am ashamed to say I soon fell back into my old ways. Although it should be said that without my stuff it tight until it bursts method, I might very well be overwhelmed by a very large pile of plastic carrier bags. So you see, it ain't all bad!

Where was I? Oh yes. That Fray Bentos pie. It was steak and kidney by the way. It is supposed to serve four people. I ate the whole pie myself. In one go. With a great heap of mashed potatoes and a tin of peas. I didn't eat the tin of peas. Naturally I emptied the peas out and threw the tin into the rubbish. I say threw, but as you are now aware what I actually did was, I stuffed it into the plastic carrier bag which hangs on the inside of the under sink cupboard door.

So I would like to apologise for being too tired to write anything tonight. Too tired, or possibly too full of pie and mashed potatoes and peas. Oh and before dinner because I was so hungry I also ate six jam doughnuts. I am absolutely stuffed. A bit like one of my plastic carrier bags. You know. The ones I put my rubbish in.

Magpies And Heavy Things Weighing Me Down.

Good news regarding the magpie chick. The parent birds returned the next morning and the baby is back with them. Seems the dead older bird was not the parent after all. Now I am aware that it is not a good idea to interfere with fledglings but bearing in mind that the little ones sibling was lying dead beside him I do not regret my intervention, and think that we did save his little life and it was getting very near to the road. They are all getting along fine now and no doubt will soon be teaching the little survivor how to steal eggs from the hen house!

On Saturday I could have sold this hen house I built from reclaimed timber. In fact I could have sold it three times over, but I learnt a lesson, and in future I shall build them in sections that are easily dismantled rather than solidly built. This will enable people to collect them easily and also very importantly get them through their garden gates. But I am still hopeful to sell this one. Someone with a big truck and a wide gate needs to come along. I'm sure they will.

I have recently made this bird table. I went a bit sculptural with it, if that's a word. I think it looks great, but again it is heavy. In fact I can hardly lift it! Also since this pic was taken I have added a bigger base for stability so it is even heavier.

Mind you heaviness isn't necessarily all bad. These things will be heavy for a thief to move from the Ramshackle Gallery and shop at least. Which kind of means I may have to make Sadie the German Shepherd redundant from her job as Chief of Security! Here she is keeping an eye out at front of shop!

I hope you enjoyed your weekend.

Magpie.

All year long I curse the pesky Magpie's who steal the eggs from the henhouse and take some of the baby chicks, whilst at the same time admiring their cunning cleverness.

But this little one's mum is dead and dad has gone away. There was another baby but he has died too. I don't know how it met it's end.

 After observing the little one carefully all day my extremely handsome son George and I decided to come to it's rescue. What was I to do, let it die slowly of thirst and starvation? Or be killed by predation. I couldn't let that happen. Besides it was getting closer and closer to the road.

He was very thirsty and hungry and began to eat immediately from Georges hand. Will he survive? I will keep you informed of his progress.

You Are So Beautiful. Yes You Are!

I love you. I think you are wonderful. You are so good looking, do you realise that? I'm telling you, you are perfect. You probably don't always see yourself in the best light but to my eyes you have it all. If it were possible I would be so happy to spend hours in your company everyday. Just thinking about you brings such a lot of happiness into my life. Thank you for being you. Thank you for following my blog. Thank you for all your comments. Thank you for taking the time to bring me the joy of knowing you. Yes it is you I'm talking to. Yes you. Honestly I mean this from my heart. Never doubt it. I have to say it again. I love you.





PS. The sun is bright and warm today. What an amazing sense of well being it gives.

Determined To Make This Link Work.

The more I can't get this link to work the more determined I am getting. So here it is again. Actually I think to be fair this will be my last attempt for a while. I don't want to bore you.
It works here in the UK and I know that it works in some places in the good 'ol U S of A so it ain't doing any harm, just temperamental. Here goes.




http://youtu.be/1wMQg-32MrM

Sorry.

I put a link to you tube on my last blog post, but it seems to have gone wrong so I have deleted the entire post. Sorry about that. I just don't know why it wouldn't work for a couple of you. It took me to where I wanted it to go. Anyway better safe than sorry, so it is outta here. Shame really I was so pleased with the video.
I shall have to start writing again. See you soon.