Lucy's first weekend away... and first walk!

Our trip over to the Isle of Wight for Dave's birthday was the first time we travelled with Lucy, and because she'd had her last set of vaccinations the day before we left, we were able to take her on her first walk.

Life with a puppy has been interesting to say the least.  I know we had a puppy when I was growing up, I even remember my dad bringing her home in the pouch of his jumper - this beautiful bundle of dark golden fur, which eventually grew into the most lovely labrador ridgeback named Honey.  However, while I enjoyed the cuddles and playtime, my parents would have had to deal with the house-training and all the other interesting things that come with owning a puppy!  I had no clue and although it's challenging at times, I'm relishing every moment we get with her while she's still small, because my favourite time of day at the moment is the 15 minutes when Dave is in the shower in the morning and I sit with Lucy on my lap, having a cuddle.  It won't be very long before she won't fit anymore!

Our friends made for excellent puppy minders on the weekend we were away and Lucy was definitely not starved for attention!  She slept a lot, played a lot, pooped a lot and omitted a level of cuteness that everybody ooh-ed and ahh-ed over. 

Oh... did I mention that she slept a lot? :)

On the Sunday, we took her for her first walk... to the beach!  It took us about 10 minutes to get from the car onto the actual sand, because everybody was stopping to admire her and because she was fascinated - IS fascinated - by leaves.  I don't know whether it's the crunches and crackles or the fact that they float up in the air when she pounces on them, but she LOVES leaves!

When we eventually made it down to the sand, she wasn't so sure at first, but eventually got the hang of it.  Her friend Busby was pouncing in and out of the waves, chasing his ball and I think it might be a while before Lucy is brave enough to join him in his quest, but in the meantime, she got her first taste of the sea air and loved it!

Lucy says bye bye everybody, until next time!

This post is 17 days late, but.... SURPRISE!

I feel really bad for leaving this post so late, because it was always my intention to have it ready to go on the day, but life (and a 14-week old puppy) has got in the way and so here I am, 17 days later, wishing my lovely husband a very, very happy 40th birthday.  And... SURPRISE!  Hee hee!

I have been working on Dave's surprise 40th birthday since December last year.  For 11 months, I very slyly liaised with over 100 people, arranged accommodation, ferry travel, payments for B&Bs, restaurant bookings, save the dates, invitations, stickers with baby photos on them and much more, without him having an inkling I was doing any of it.  All I told him was that I was taking him away to the Isle of Wight for his birthday and that I'd invited a few of our close friends along with us.  This was done for 2 very strategic reasons.  Firstly, if I hadn't mentioned his 40th at all, he'd have been suspicious that I wasn't making a big deal out of it.  Secondly, I told him that our close friends were coming too in case any of them slipped up - which DID happen, so my failsafe worked well!

About 2 days before we left, he asked me what was happening on his birthday.  I asked him what he meant and he said that he'd heard some whispering at our Halloween party.  Now... it all hung on who he had heard whispering.  If it had been a couple of the friends he knew would be joining us, that was fine.  But anyone else and the game was up!  So I casually asked him what he'd heard and he mentioned that he'd seen a friend of ours and me whispering in a corner and then he'd walked in and we'd stopped talking.  WHEW!  I told him it could have been any number of things and left it at that.... I still have no idea what he heard or what we were whispering about, but the surprise was still in play.

So my birthday arrived and I got predictably spoilt by Dave and after the excitement of present opening and packing the car, we were on the road, with a friend of ours and Lucy in the back seat. 

All of our friends arrived at various times during that day and made their way to the cottages.  Because it was my birthday, everyone was asking me what we would be doing that night and I just said that I didn't feel like doing anything and that we could just order in chinese and sit and chat... READ "We can't do anything, because if we went out for a meal, we'd run the risk of bumping into any of the 45 secret guests who have made their way to the island today in time for the big reveal tomorrow!"

And so we ate chinese, chatted, had a few drinks and a few laughs, with Lucy and another friend's dog, Stan, providing the entertainment for the evening.  Everybody then retired to their cottages for the night with strict instructions that we had to leave for breakfast at 9.15am the following morning.

Morning dawned, so did Dave's 40th birthday and I was strangely nervous!  He unwrapped his gifts and took a couple of phonecalls and then it was time to go.  I had asked our friends to fake a petrol crisis so that they could leave ahead of us and make their way to the breakfast venue to corale everybody who was there.  I had arranged for everybody to be at The Garlic Farm, where I had hired out the cafe for the morning for the Big Reveal!  I got the obligatory text to say that they were all in place and we made our way.  The one car in the world that Dave can spot from a mile off is his dad's and I was just hoping against hope that Steve had parked in an inconspicuous spot.  I was not disappointed.  Except Dave doesn't like to park in the most convenient spot ie. the vacant space right by the door, but instead likes to drive past a few convenient ones and even some inconvenient ones and ends up parking in the most inconvenient parking space there is available.  And again, I wasn't disappointed.  Instead of parking in the glaringly open space right by the entrance, he carried on driving.  And with every metre he drove, my heart rate increased exponentially, because it was not a large car park and it was only a matter of time before we happened upon Steve's car.  I, quite forcefully, instructed him to park in a space instead of going any further and blamed it on the fact that my stitches were hurting (I'd had surgery a week before). 

We all got out of our cars and started up towards the cafe, which I had forgotten, had a large glass frontage.  Had he been in possession of beady eyes, he could well have spotted all of his family and friends waiting for him.  But fortunately, he's 40, and his eyesight isn't quite as it used to be, so I had no problems distracting him on the walk up the drive and all the way into the cafe, where he got the fright of his life looking up to cheers of "SURPRISE!".  It had worked!  YAY!  Nearly a year of planning had paid off and we had finally made it to the day and he didn't have a clue.  I was so chuffed!  I unfortunately don't have a photo of his face, but it was priceless!  He was shaking as he made his way around our family and friends, with a glass of Bucks Fizz bubbling away.  We then all sat down to a lovely scrambled egg, smoked salmon and toast breakfast, served with fresh croissants.  That was then followed by a tasting experience and a cookery class, and then a little wander around the farm, taking in some of its history.  It was a really lovely morning and Dave's grin didn't leave his face for quite a long time after we left.

The rest of the day was spent at leisure, some of Dave's family came over to our cottage to meet Lucy, others went on their own merry way exploring the island and the boys later went to the pub to watch the England rugby game (I won't mention the score!).

LUCY MEETS...

Gareth... (ouch!)

Nay...

and Natalie... (I LOVE this photo!)

That evening, we went to a restaurant called On The Rocks in Yarmouth.  It is one of Dave's favourite restaurants, a very unique dining experience.  You are served raw meat on volcanic rock, which you then cook yourself.  There is one flat price per cut of meat and you are served unlimited chips and salad with your meal.

Everybody had a great time and the evening was very festive.  A really good end to a lovely day.  Happy 40th birthday my Bub! :)

The birthday weekend didn't end there and the next morning a few of us went to grab a buffet breakfast at the local pub - some heads (and tummies) were VERY grateful, especially Dave's!

So all in all, a lovely weekend spent with family and friends... and a VERY spoilt and surprised 40-year old!

For all the photos, click here and here.

The art of giving gracefully

Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, the end of another year is almost upon us.  That means mince pies and mulled wine (for those who like them), scarves, hats, gloves & winter coats, crackling fires, hot chocolate, new and quickly broken resolutions and of course, Christmas.

And what comes with Christmas?  The obligatory giving and receiving of gifts and, if you're lucky, Santa might deem you to have been good and you might get everything on your list.

For me, picking out Christmas gifts (or gifts of any kind), is a personal experience.  The process of buying something which I know the recipient will love because I've done my homework, fills me with a sense of satisfaction surpassed only by the actual giving itself.

I have always loved giving gifts.  My family has, for the past few years, done Secret Santa, which has its advantages and disasvantages for me.  I feel deprived of the opportunity to pick out the perfect gift for the people who I love most in this world, but... the obvious 'but' is that it is the most economic way to deal with Christmas for a family who is spread across the globe.

The same can be said for friends who I buy gifts for.  A few of my friends are away from home at this time of year and it takes all of our combined strength not to get predictably down when we don't get the chance to spend it with all of our family.  Picking out the perfect present for them makes me feel as if I've eased the burden of not being surrounded by family a little for them.

But there is a flipside.  There are some people in my life for whom receiving a present from me has no greater meaning than a simple expectation.  No thanks.  No appreciation for the thought process which goes into picking a really good gift out, but simply a once-a-year air kiss across the miles to say 'hey, I'm here and even though I haven't acknowledged you this entire year, I'd like my present please'.  Why must I spend my hard-earned money on people like this?

The answer is simple.  Because it is expected and to not do so would be deemed rude.

Any present I buy for people like this would be completely generic and have no thought put into it at all.  And that's not because I can't be bothered, but simply because I don't know these people.  Not for lack of trying.  No effort is ever made on their part to have anything to do with my life.  No happy birthday.  No 'hey, how are you?'.  No acknowledgement of invitations carefully thought about.  But... always a massive load of Christmas presents.  Without fail.  Why?

It's a really sensitive issue and quite a subjective one.  This isn't about naming and shaming.  I'm talking more broadly about the institution of gift giving and how it has, unfortunately, become an expectation to spend money on people I wouldn't ordinarily have much to do with, but because of some vague and displaced sense of responsibility, I do.  Because I'm THAT person.  The one who doesn't like to cause ripples, who bows gracefully to expectation and plods along with the status quo because it's easier than admitting out loud that the whole process is fundamentally flawed. 

Wouldn't it be nice to be able to rid my life of people like this by simply not conforming.  Hmmm... maybe something to consider for next year's resolutions!

A pardon for Cobbler and a happy Thanksgiving

I haven't done much blogging lately and I will be getting back to it soon, I just need my daily commute to get some inspiration!  Being couped up at home for the past 2 weeks has had its advantages, but it has done nothing for my creative brain at all!

In the meantime, while I'm seeking inspiration for my next blog entry, a very Happy Thanksgiving for yesterday to all of my US family and friends and especially to Cobbler, who I'm guessing is pretty chuffed with himself today! 

I'm hoping to be sat around a Thanksgiving table with my family in the next couple of years, just to experience the tradition!  4th July.  Check.  Halloween.  Check.  Still to do - Memorial Day, Labour Day and first and foremost, Thanksgiving.  Happy eating (or dieting from today), peeps!

Make it count!

Food for thought for the day...

I am often puzzled by the expression 'life is short'.  Life is the longest thing any of us do.  There is nothing during our lives that we spend longer doing than living.  Most of us have unfortunately lost loved ones too soon, but I always remind myself of the need to focus on the part that was, not the part that never was.  The good, not the bad.  The happy, not the sad.  The happy times are the memories which let us know that we are really living, as we were intended to, for however long or short that may be.

Make it count.

Introducing Lucy

She's so pretty, isn't she?

So this is Lucy.  She is Dave's 40th birthday present - arrived 2 weeks early.  She will be exactly 12 weeks old on his actual birthday, the 17th November.  She was born on the 25th August and was one of a litter of 3 - 1 golden girl, a chocolate boy and her.  She's awesome, so placid and as you can see... so pretty.

When we moved into our house, we were originally told that we were not allowed to have dogs.  Then in January, I approached the landlord again, asking for his permission if we put certain measures in place, namely baby gates so as not to allow her access to upstairs (even though all of upstairs is laminated flooring, except for the landing and all of downstairs is carpeted - even the kitchen!).  Anyway, he agreed and I kept it a secret from Dave.  I told him about 2 or 3 months ago that I had managed to get permission to have a dog and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree - he was ecstatic!

The next obstacle was trying to work out when to get her.  We go away quite often, so it's a toss-up between still being responsible pet owners (which we are) and not allowing our movements to be ruled by our pets.  So I set about trying to find dog sitters and dog walkers, because until she's old enough to be left alone, we want her to continue to be socialised whilst we're at work.  So I have some time off work from the end of this week and will be able to stay with her and in the meantime, we're looking around for a puppy sitting service.  She is starting training classes next week - that should be fun!

We originally wanted the golden girl of the litter, but missed out on her by about 10 minutes, after we were delayed getting to the house to meet the pups.  During the 20 minutes we were there, Lucy just plodded around the kitchen, very curious, but very placid.  The golden girl, on the other hand, destroyed the corner of a massive bag of dog biscuits, shovelled about a kilo of them, then proceeded to tear apart a sock!  I'm beginning to think that we got the easier end of the bargain!

We had a really hard time naming her, resorting to Facebook to ask for suggestions for names for her.  We got a lot of really good suggestions (and a couple of not-so-good ones!) and after just over a day of being with us, she eventually had a name.  Lucy.  She is now starting to respond to it, which is very sweet to watch.  Now onto the house training... should be FUN!  Although... with eyes like this, who could be cross with her when the accidents inevitably happen?!

 

We're really looking forward to all the years of joy this little girl is going to bring us and I have no doubt that she will feature quite regularly on this blog in the days, months and years to come!

Fifty Shades of HUH?

I haven't bought into the whole 'Fifty Shades' craze.  All I needed to hear from enough people was that it was really badly written and that has quashed any interest I might have had in reading it (which was between zero and none at all).  While I know that this is a very subjective view, the content is not something that would generally interest me, so my decision is not entirely based on other opinions about the quality of the writing, but it has been a major factor in my not having picked up either of the books.

A friend of mine was completely taken with the series of books and remarked a few times about how grateful she was to have a kindle - thereby not allowing other people on the train to see what she was reading.  She told me about a day when she was on the train and deeply engrossed in the latest chapter and she looked over to the person next to her, who was reading the Bible!  She felt suitably embarrassed and even more grateful that the cover of her book was not on display!  Quite understandably, I loved that story, it made me laugh for a long time after that and still does.

I think it's like Marmite - you either love it or hate it.  Most people I know of who have read it have either started it and devoured all 3 in fairly quick succession, or started it and kind of lost interest fairly quickly.  And then you get those of us, like me, who have never attempted to read it.  In social media and the Press, there is a definite love-hate relationship between those who have read it and love it (aka Group A) and those who either didn't enjoy it or have never read it (Group B).  The fierce criticism dealt out by Group A about Group B has been eye-opening and quite unbelievable to read.  Which is fair in my assessment - someone who has never read the book would have no accurate frame of reference, and so should have no place in its criticism.  People are fiercely protective of Mr Whipman and Miss Whiplady (I paraphrase, of course) and vehemently protest at even so much as a comma which is printed in objection to the book.  Whether she can write well or not, E L James has certainly lit a fire under the butts of readers worldwide and perhaps, for the first time since the whole 'Harry Potter is evil' debate, got people talking. 

I sometimes marvel at how the development of slang and colloquial English have swayed our thoughts on what words to use in everyday conversation.  Who hasn't blushed, however slightly, when they've come across a man named Willy or Dick?  Or a lady named Fanny?  For goodness' sake, even our beloved characters in Enid Blyton's The Faraway Tree series had to be renamed, all in the name of political correctness!  Case in point - Dave and I were in a shop the other day and he (at nearly 40 years old) pointed to a can of 'Pussy' energy drink and chuckled.  I mean... come on.  What on earth possessed the maker of that drink to give it that name?  What possible connotation of that word would make you think that it was an appropriate name for an energy drink - crude connotation or not?

Possibly the funniest thing that has happened to me in a long time happened in Germany earlier this year when my friend and I were in Baden Baden for a weekend.  We went on a day trip to Freiburg and we wanted to go up the Schlossberg Tower.  It was cold and incredibly windy and not surprisingly, we were the only tourists going up to the top of a tower on that particular day in early January.  We went to the ticket office, where a young guy was standing behind some plate glass - at least he was warm!  My friend asked for the tickets while I looked at the various posters around the booking office.  She was engaging him in conversation about our trip so far and then asked him if the tower was open that day, whilst pointing outside at the howling gales.  He said to her, in his broken English, with his hand making a backwards-and-fowards gesture, 'It is open, but with the wind, it is... how do you say?  Wanking'.  Well.  I was standing on her right and her head immediately shot to the left, so as not to be able to see me, because I was completely startled and whispered to her 'Did he just say....?' and all I could see was the back of her head because she refused to look at me!  She briefly nodded, kept her nose down, took the tickets and ran to the corner of the booking office, never once looking at me.  Her face was so red from keeping in the hysterical laughter.  It took us about 5 minutes to work out how to use the self-service lift to take us up the mountain, because our sides were splitting from laughing so much.  It took us double the amount of time to walk up the rest of the hill it probably would have normally because we were bursting out into fits of giggles every 10 steps or so.  I have never laughed so much in my life that I can remember.  We were still laughing when we went to bed that night... and the next day... and the following month... and still today!  I told Dave about this when I spoke to him later that night (my friend still giggling away uncontrollably at my retelling of the story) and Dave immediately knew that the guy had used the German word for 'waver' - Wanken!  He was trying to tell us that the tower would be swaying in the wind.  That, then, at least gave us an explanation for his choice of expression, but it just goes to show how our minds immediately flipped to the less savoury meaning of the word and to this day, we still call it our visit to the 'wanking tower'.

A friend of mine has just posted this on Facebook and it made me giggle - after a really long and trying week at work, this appealed to my sense of humour.  Sorry to those of you who enjoyed the book, this is not meant to cause any offence!

Fifty Shades of Grey - A husbands view
The missus bought a Paperback
...down town on Saturday,
I had a look inside her bag;
...T'was "Fifty Shades of Grey".

Well I just left her to it,
and at ten I went to bed.
An hour later she appeared;
the sight filled me with dread.

In her left she held a rope;
and in her right a whip!
She threw them down upon the floor,
and then began to strip.

Well fifty years or so ago;
I might have had a peek;
but Mabel hasn't weathered well;
she's eighty four next week!!

Watching Mabel bump and grind;
could not have been much grimmer.
And things then went from bad to worse;
she toppled off her Zimmer!

She struggled back upon her feet;
a couple minutes later;
she put her teeth back in and said
.....I'm the dominater !!

Now if you knew our Mabel,
you'd see just why I spluttered,
I'd spent two months in traction
for the last complaint I'd uttered.

She stood there nude and naked
bent forward just a bit
I went to hold her, sensual like
and stood on her left tit!

Mabel screamed, her teeth shot out;
My god what had I done!?
She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
"Step on the other one"!!

Well readers, I can tell no more;
of what occurred that day.
Suffice to say my jet black hair,
turned Fifty Shades of Grey.

Personally, it's not my cup of tea, so I have no right to criticise at all - and I hope that I haven't, because that wasn't the intention for this post - but, cringe-worthy or not, she obviously did something right to whip up such a stir (see what I did there?). 

Now... can of 'Pussy' anyone? 

Trick or Treat!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Hurricane Sandy has wrecked her (his?) havoc in and around New Jersey, but my family is safe and sound, thank goodness, albeit with a lot of damage to the properties and streets around them.  My only hope is that, despite all the devastation, the children will be able to get on with their trick-or-treating, as only American children know how to do so well! 

I loved spending Halloween in the US 2 years ago, they really go all out and the atmosphere is so festive.

Dave and I took a stab at hosting a halloween party of our own this year.  It was a great success - although the people who make Halloween compilations of music need to work a bit harder!  Ghastly!  (Ghostly?  See what I did there?!)  But we had fun anyway and everybody made a real effort, it was great!  We had 2 skeletons, a pumpkin, a pirate, 2 witches, a mental patient and her male nurse, 2 zombies (one of the regular kind and one Bishop!), Marilyn Manson's bride (not really), Red Riding Hood, 2 goths and erm.... Blackmail!

We went to town on decorating the house and had a few scares under our belts.  We had eyeballs floating in the punch and plenty of vodka jelly shots to go around!  All in all, a very successful first Halloween Party at casa Ring.

Photo links after the jump....

So if you're going out tonight, beware of ghosts and goblins of the trick-or-treating kind, but most of all... have fun!

Click here for my photos and here for Dave's (far more professional) photos.

The wonders of the English language

I received this next post in the form of an e-mail from my Uncle about 10 years ago now and it has always stuck with me.  The person who wrote it - unfortunately anonymously - is a genius.  I wish I could claim it as my own, but I managed to find it online and thought I'd post it on my blog for posterity.

Here goes...

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.

There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.  English muffins weren't invented in England nor French fries in France.  Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat. 

Other examples of the complexities of our language are as follows:

The bandage was wound around the wound.
The farm was used to produce produce.
The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
He could lead if he would get the lead out.
The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.
A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.
When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
I did not object to the object.
There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
They were too close to the door to close it.
The buck does funny things when the does are present.
A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.
To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
After a number of injections my jaw got number.
Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

We take English for granted.  But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. 

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?  If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth?  One goose, 2 geese.  So one moose, 2 meese?  One index, 2 indices?

Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal?  If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?  If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.  In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?  Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?  Park on driveways and drive on parkways?  Have noses that run and feet that smell?  How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn't a race at all).  That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible? 

And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it?

Autumn is here...

... and that means oranges, reds, browns, carved pumpkins, halloween, fallen leaves, cool crispiness in the air, salted caramel hot chocolate from Starbucks... and the odd funny photo!

And that's just the beginning!