Saturday, 20 October 2007

Zero sleeps! The witching hour is at hand.

Am I the only person to wake myself up laughing? I did so about an hour ago. The dream ran something like 'the Irish jockey (jumps not flat) I was living and madly in love with and I were racing (on what not clear) around my hometown in Australia, but of course it was in Ireland or somewhere else, having a happy time just being. Weird I know but it was a dream.

It really is ungodly 'o'clock outside and Princess C-W and I are just about to head out the door. As I type my naughty black dog is lying two feet below my nose and he has rolled in something disgusterous. Anyone want a (engage estate agent mode) beautifully mannered, 10 y.o tricolour collie with no predilection for high speed disappearing acts, who doesn't sound like the hounds of hell every time the gate opens (the clipboard wielding man leaping the five bar gate was worth the entry fee) and who never ever rolls in the smelliest stuff he can find? Give me a call - the number is 555-76902.

1 comment:

  1. Can't wait to meet your Mum! That dog sounds like a paragon of virtue - how could you bear to part with him?