Storms, slippers, a dog and her coat, and a question responded to at last.

Thanks for those who have expressed concern about us in this storm-swept country.  We have been lucky enough to have been on the edge of things.  I had a disturbed night's rest on Friday, with a rain-lashed skylight and thunder, and there are certainly lakes and pools a-plenty where they aren't normally to be found.  It seems the port area of St Brieuc was evacuated for fear of flooding, and not very far away in Guingamp there were serious problems.

However, the worst thing to befall us so far has been the loss of the internet for much of the weekend, which really wasn't too bad.  So I found other diversions.  I strained the sloe gin while listening to The Archers Omnibus on the radio, and got cross with myself for getting maudlin during Phil Archer's funeral.  I blame the mother's milk with which I took The Archers in.

I also finished the slipper socks.

I always liked that sweater, with its other-side-of-sunset colours.

 

It was only quite a cheap one, and not very well-made, so when it went into holes I put it through the washing machine on a hot cycle so it went felty, and kept it about seven years, the prescribed time after which my mother always said one would find a use for anything, before making it into slippers, indulging at the same time my weakness for pompoms.

~~~

Molly is now equipped for wet weather.  Anyone who tells you a cocker spaniel's coat is water resistant has never kept one.  Molly's is more like black cotton wool, and once wet, you have a fidgetty, chilly and uncomfortable dog for hours who will do everything she can to rub off the offending moisture onto you. I resisted for a long time as I thought dog-coats were for wimps and Yorkies, but now I have given in. 

I reckoned this fleece lined waterproof in French navy was suitably sober and rugged enough.  The blur at the far end is a rapidly wagging tail.  Paws and head still get wet, but back and sides stay drier.

She can't see a camera without barking.

~~~

Finally I've come up with some possible responses to 'What's in the Box?', over at 'Questions'.   I sometimes think the stuff that comes out in these poems from me is a mite gloomy, bleak and fey, compared to the cheerful and ironic demeanor I generally try to maintain here, along with the pompoms.  It has to come out somewhere, perhaps; thanks to those who stay with it.