Recently we had a Trip to Bavaria. Call it a holiday…not sure. We drove a thousand miles to Regensburg and back for a gathering of Husband’s old colleagues from his Porsche days, to remember the boss Dick who had died quite unexpectedly. Annie, the widow wanted a get together, possibly for the last time. Dick, too, was there in attendance, in a jar, with his favourite tie around it.

We took Katie the Hound to kennels for the five days and to entertain ourselves during the long boring drive we imagined what the dogs might say to each other. The other dog would say he feels miserable, his pal had mysteriously disappeared, he misses him. WAAAAAH! Katie would say ‘Oh c’mon, stop that, pull up your socks… it’ll soon be dinner time. Tummy clock says so. Do you like going to the beach?’

-What’s a beach?

– It’s a place with a huge puddle. The lumpy ones are sore on the paws but the grainy ones are great. You run into the puddle and then run to your people and shuggle yourself dry right next to them. They seem to like it, they scream with delight.

-I’ve never been to the beach, and I can’t swim.

-I’m a collie and I’m not supposed to like swimming but I love it! What are you anyway?

-I’m a whippet.

-Hm. You are too skinny to swim. You’d just sink to the bottom.

-I suppose fat and a lot of fur help you to float…

-I’m not fat! This is muscle, see!

-It’s fat.

-What do your people feed you to keep you that thin?

-I get pellets of something. The packets have pictures of birds fish and cows on them but they all taste the same. You?

-I get IAms plus what my people call additives. They can be bits of pie crust or sausage, ham rind, fish, sometimes it’s sirloin and chips or bits of some sort of bird. Once they tried to give me the pellets only and I had to go into sulks for ever, or at least ten minutes. I also get my five a day. Pomegranates raspberries  and orange are my favourites. Not so hot on apple or banana. Or broccoli.

-Aw, I just get the pellets. Would your people like another dog..?

Here Katie walks away mumbling that she is the Top Dog ‘…it’s mine, all mine…’

I missed the Grace Before Dinner, the Grace After Dinner, Address To The Haggis on A Winter Night. My Fickle Fortune, For The Sake O’ Somebody made me bid Farewell and go Home. How Lang And Dreary Is The Night.

Whistle, And I’ll Come To You, My Lad. Well, he phoned. I was really looking forward to the Country Dancing Burns supper dance and had just arrived when someone said there is a phone ringing somewhere. I ignored it, can’t be mine. It rang again and it was mine. It was the Husband saying he had slipped on muddy grass in the garden, looking for the Hound and hurt his ankle. He thinks it’s broken. ‘Rubbish – put the foot in bucket of water and ice and phone me in half an hour…’ No Florence Nightingale here. He said I really had better come… Ok. So off I went home and we drove to the hospital in Dumfries. The A&E were very good we had to admit, very efficient, nice, even on a Saturday night. X rays proved the smaller leg bone fibula, was indeed broken. Blast.

The reality slowly sank in. As they were busy with him, putting a plaster on I realised I wouldn’t have much spare time in the near future. I had no idea though just how little time for my own work I’d have. We arranged a bed downstairs in the living room for him for the first week or two and he hobbled between the bed, sofa and bathroom. The Husband sat on the sofa nearly for two months with his leg up. He couldn’t put any weight on it to start with and then it was a very s-l-o-w  process to recovery. Every little task took so long to do. Talk about a grumpy old woman!

Of course I have appreciated the jobs he does but me having to do everything drained all the time. By the time I had done the breakfast, cleared the kitchen, hung the washing, cleaned the fire, carried the ashes out and wood in, done the shopping etc, sorted out the lunch, and anything he needed it was nearly lunch time. Even knowing he physically couldn’t – and shouldn’t – do anything and certainly didn’t  want to be in that position I was fuming, angry, most of the time.

It got so bad that the family suggested I go and see a shrink! I was confirmed once again my vocation isn’t in nursing or house keeping.

I am very pleased to report that the ankle is doing well, no pain, no bother and I have caught up with all the Spring Fling tasks. Just over two weeks to go and I am looking forward to an exciting weekend again. Welcome!