8th May
Brent is back after another week away and Flossom
is over the moon.
She helped him unpack his bags, eat his dinner and do the
crossword.
He asked her if she’d been outside for any exercise
lately and she looked a little guilty.
Five minutes later she jumped off the couch
and barged under the curtains. We heard the cat flap open
and close.
“Good Grief”, I said, “She’s gone
outside!”
I was amazed as it was wet and cold.
“Exercise”, said Brent proudly, “She’s
an active girl”.
There was a snort from the shopping bag on
the floor.
About ten minutes went by and suddenly we were
aware of loud snores emanating from behind the curtain.
Brent pulled it back.
There was Flossom, blinking at us guiltily. “Brrrm”,
she said.
“Flossom, did you actually make it outside?”
“Um, did I make it outside”, she repeated.
“Or did you just push the cat flap and pretend you
went outside?”
“Um,” she said, “that’s a good question,
and one best answered on a full stomach”.

9th May
I don’t know exactly what the horses
got up to last night but our shoes (formerly outside on the
deck) were all over the paddock, Nibbler has a swollen leg
and The Phantom appeared to have a shocking hangover. Only
Persil was as fresh as a daisy and busting to do stuff.
Jess came over and we got Persil and The Phantom
in for a ride.
Persil bounced along the road, obscenely perky
next to the morose and disheveled Phantom.
“Yippee yahoo” yelled Persil, leaning over to
nip Phantom on his ample butt.
“Sod off” said Phantom swishing his tail and
plodding on.
“Oh Go Orn, said Persil, bouncing and skipping about, “go
orn, go orn, go orn, go orn”.
Phantom stopped in the middle of the road. “That’s
it”, he said, “I’m not going any further
with this little Aussie Fruit Cake”.
We turned for home. Persil continued to bounce
and skip, “What a day!” he said, “Life
is great!”
Phantom sulkily stomped up the drive, “My head,” he
moaned, “I think I’m going to die”.
“Well,” said Persil, “That will teach you
for sniffing shoe”.

May 10th
Today we loaded the trailer for a trip to the
dump.
I’ve noticed that men love going to the Dump and Brent
is no exception.
He packed the back of the car with special ‘dump tools’;
not to be outdone I put a few in too.
When we got there, he did a magnificent high
speed sweeping reverse straight to the edge of the pit.
The other men, busy unloading their rubbish, were clearly
impressed.
I opened the boot of the car and arranged the tools while
Brent leapt expertly up into the trailer.
The other guys had tools too; rakes and brooms
were wielded expertly in a flurry of male activity.
I handed Brent a thistle grubber.
Noone else had one of those.
“What’s this?” asked Brent.
“A Thistle Grubber”, I said, proudly acknowledging
what I took to be admiring stares from the competition.
Brent rolled his eyes. “Could you hand
me the rake”, he said quietly.
“How about a pair of secateurs?” I’d not
seen any of those there either.
He glared at me “An electric Sander?” I tried.
I know how important tools are to men and how much they like
to flaunt them.
Brent climbed out of the trailer and grabbed the rake.
I sat in the car. Clearly there is no place
for a woman at the dump.
May
11th
I’ve been diligently going to the GYM.
I even have a new GYM Buddy, which means I have to go the
GYM to make sure she goes.
We do a load of maxilla tightening exercises.
It’s been a week now and already I swear my lower mandible
is looking more toned.
This week I’ll be aiming for a full hour
of gossip.
I want one of those jaws that American movie stars have,
sharp enough to cut through bread, concrete and tomatoes;
that way, if I ever get to go on a picnic and no one has
a set of Kitchen Ginzu Knives, no one need panic.
May 12th
I schooled The Phantom today and was completely
blown away.
He’s been taking dressage lessons from Nibbler, who
has been a superb teacher.
“Of course,” said Persil, who
knows nothing about dressage, “all you need to do is
pratt round in a few circles with your neck arched”.
“I think you’ll find there’s
a bit more to it than that” said Nibbler, showing Phantom
a series of flying changes.
“It’s the sport for horses who
can’t be arsed doing something requiring actual effort”,
said Persil defiantly.
Phantom, busting to learn how to do a flying
change, was learning a walk to canter transition. “Rock
right back on your haunches” yelled His Nibs.
“Endurance requires bravery and stamina – not
all horses have that you know”, said Persil to me as
I came out to watch, and he grabbed my fingers gently with
his mouth and hung on to them while I comforted him.
By the time I came to school The Phantom he
had perfected walk to
canter,
bouncing off his hocks in beautiful style. “GOOD BOY!” I
shouted gleefully jumping off him and running inside to get
a reward.
As I came out with a large carrot, I saw him turn to Nibbler
who had been watching. Nibbs winked at him, “See” he
said, “Toss all effort – big reward”.
“Big Tosser” yelled Persil.
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