April 2nd
Flossom
is obsessed with the shower.
She likes to get into it at least twice a day. Once there,
she sits happily staring at the walls – as you do
when you are in the shower.
If you listen to Brent you’d think it was one of
the great wonders of the world… “Flossom
wants a shower”, he crows, airlifting her to the
bathroom, where she regally steps into the shower via the
door kindly opened for her by him, as he stands proudly
observing her taking her ‘ablutions’.
I’ve tried to point out to her, to no avail, that
she’s not actually having a wash by just standing
there with no soap and water, however, egged on by her
besotted father (Brent), she actually believes that it’s
the thought that counts.
April 3rd
As part of my drive to be pro-active and on top of things,
I’ve not only done my tax return early but have taken
the initiative (on advice from a friend) of preparing a
letter for the Women’s Weekly, to be published once
the earth cools again…(They can fill in the blanks
as I’m not sure which friend I shall be sipping tea
with). (Come to think of it the likelihood of me drinking
tea is about the same as a meteorite strike).
Dear Women’s Weekly,
Imagine my surprise as I looked up from my teacup as I
was drinking with my friend ………………..,
to see a huge meteor racing towards the outside toilet.
“Look at that!” I cried out to ……………..; “I
think that’s a meteorite”.
“Yes, you’re right”, she shouted, “It’s
a large meteor”. “What shall we do?” she
shouted; the noise of the incoming meteor was like the
sound of a railway train, “I know” I said, “Let’s
write to the Women’s Weekly”.
So, as the outside toilet exploded in a blinding flash
and a mushroom shaped cloud enveloped the back yard, we
searched for some paper and a pen on which to write about
our experience, and then we had another cup of tea and
decided to trot into town for a nice bit of shopping.
Yours Sincerely
Dotty Foresight
April 4th
The Phantom got his new boots today and I’ve never
seen a horse more
pleased
with himself.
Dave, the Farrier, spent a lot of time making sure the
boots fitted perfectly. Then he asked me to walk The Phantom
round.
Phantom had been puzzling over the new boots as they were
being fitted. He lifted up the box they came in and tossed
it around a bit, in case it came with added carrots, and
when I walked him out, he plopped his feet up and down
and then started to Goose step like a German General in
WW2.
You could tell they made him feel important and proud.
Stomp, Stomp he went, past Nibbler and Persil; Stomp,
Stomp over the gravel, tentatively at first and then with
more gusto as he realised it didn’t hurt.
I tied him up leaving them on him while I helped Dave
measure Nibbler’s hooves, and The Phantom promptly
untied himself and stomped out the gate and on up the road
on the gravel…previously an unheard of feat!
I asked Brent later if he’d seen The Phantom’s
new boots. He was reading the newspaper. “Yeah”,
he said.
“OH really, when?”
“Oh, well I haven’t tried them on or anything”,
he said.
April 5th
Brent
and I went visiting.
We visited Erana (Nibbler’s health care professional)
and her husband Jason.
Jason and Brent get on like a house on fire.
Having just seen the latest Rambo movie (which must
be called something like ‘Rambo 72nd Blood’ by
now) Jason (a scientist), was busting to talk to someone
who really does care about Rambo. Brent and Jason reenacted
Rambo scenes while Erana and I did a pile of eye rolling
exercises.
I felt it was about time they did a movie about Rambo’s
enormous lesser known cross dressing dyslexic brother,
Ombro …The Anti Rambo.
He’s got a penchant for floral hats and fairy
cakes. He also thinks he can play the violin…but
can he? Does his chin implant get in the way?
It’s a movie that would be about as action packed
as the average toilet and twice as interesting when you
count the macro bacterial scenes. If we can somehow fit
in a car chase sequence and plenty of farting scenes,
we’ll have the American market sown up.
April 6th
Brent and I went into Christchurch to work on THE HOUSE.
The weeds in the garden just don’t get it.
I rip them out.
They grow back.
I rip them out.
They grow back bold as brass, asking for fertilizer.
A large thistle stood proudly in the middle of the garden, “Come
on Love”, it said, “Get a load of this then”,
and it shoved its fully armed leaves at me. It had an impressive
array of weaponry but it hadn’t counted on a thistle
grubber.
Once the weeds were defeated and piled into a heap, I
could hear the plants sighing with relief. “Ahhhh”,
said a rather blousy Dahlia, “Thank goodness for
that; it was beginning to turn into a rather bad neighbourhood
you know”.
April 7th
It rained all day which meant that Zeuss was bored.
He sat on the table next to the computer where I was working
and tapped the keyboard with an exploratory paw.
“Have a look at ‘Trademe’,” he
said.
“What for?”
“There must be something on there that we can swap
Flossom for”.
“Zeuss!”
“No, really, how about a large rabbit?”
I glared at him.
“Just a thought,” he said.
April 8th
I’m preparing the courses I’ll be teaching
next term.
Most of them need little preparation as I’ve taught
them before, however my newest course, Absolutely Positively
Challenged, a course on being happy, needs some thought.
I told my best friend Leigh I was going to teach people
to be happy and he laughed so much I thought he’d
choke. Leigh first met me at a time of immense stress.
I wanted to kill my (drug dealing) neighbours and was desperately
hoping my boss (a large Texan Unit) would spontaneously
combust.
“I know”, said Leigh, guffawing loudly and
rudely down the phone, “Why don’t you teach
a course on cooking fine cuisine”.
Leigh knows full well the extent of my culinary expertise – it’s
legendary.
I am the person who forgot to put the leeks and almonds
into the Leek and Almond Soup I was making for guests.
