Category Archives: Writing

March 18, 2015 · 10:14 pm

Posh Pedro and his Party

As a special request – you know who you are! – I have included another post about Pedro the Spanish Wonder Dog.

I took a photo of him today, outside, with the sun on his back, wearing his rather tasteful Birthday Bandana. Pedro says Hola! and thanks ever so for the party and the fabulous prezzies. I think his favourite gift was a bumper size pack of Gravy Bones.

Mmmmmm. Ewwwwww. Quite revolting!

Welcoming Pedro has been a fabulous, rewarding, entertaining, lovely experience. Everyone tells us how lucky we are.

He is a rescue dog with no issues. He has lovely manners, is very sociable, with an excellent sense of humour. He isn’t demanding or needy, is ever so obedient, and most charming of all, Pedro is a demonstrative, loving hound. His favourite pastime is to hop up on the sofa (nawty!), and gently nudge you with his soft little snout until you stop reading, typing, chatting or snoozing. He will then put a paw on your shoulder whilst you rub under his chin or stroke his ginger ears. He loves that. If you stroke his ears long enough he goes into a little trance and eventually keels over and falls asleep sprawled over your knee.

I’m struggling to remember what life was like Pre Pedro. Mud free. Dog hair free. Smelly soggy toy free. A bit empty?

I’d love to hear your experiences, do you have a rescue puppy?

Does your dog have a wardrobe to match Pedro’s?

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Filed under Community, Dogs, Dogwalking, Lifestyle, Pets, Writing

Tagged as Adana, Bandana, dogs, Pedro, pet birthday, pets, puppies, Rescue Dog

March 6, 2015 · 6:30 pm

Do you not Love the Art Deco?

Here we have a lush Art Deco Filigree Czech Brooch.

Very intricate. Very charming. And very reasonably priced.

If you are looking for a beautifully made antique, for the price of a bag of chips and a bottle of wine, then look no further.

Keep your eyes peeled. This weekend I am going to write a lot. An awful lot. About Chinese textiles, here is a little peek:

Do you know what it is yet?

Go on, have a guess….

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEDRO!

This is Pedro. We think he is two years old today.

Or maybe yesterday.

Possibly last week. Anyway, he’s around two. We don’t know for sure because he’s a rescue dog. From Spain. He was dumped on a roadside in St Pedro when he was about 2 or 3 months old. And that’s why he’s called Pedro. Duh.

He’s the best dog I’ve ever had. Actually, he’s the only dog I’ve ever had.

In Spain his main activity was finding the shadiest spot and lying there. All day.

In England his main activity is wagging his tail incessantly and standing by the front door, which is a massive hint that he’d quite like to go to the park and chase the ducks.

He wasn’t at all impressed by the snow. Which is fair enough if you’re a Spanish dog.

And like lying down in the shade. All day.

He was taken to a rescue home in Estepona, which is where he found us. And trotted over to us. And sat on my feet. Curled up. And didn’t move until we’d agreed to take him. He’s cute like that. He’s cute full stop. If I could have a £ for every person who comes up to Pedro and Me and says – ‘what sort of dog is that?’ Pedro and Me would be living in Spain. Lying down in the shade. All day.

To celebrate. He has had a new bandana. Red with blue paisley. And cheese. He’s partial to Cheddar.

If you know what sort of dog he is please do tell?

We just say he is an Andalusian Sheep Dog. Feliz cumpleaños Pedro!

(Click on the top photo for information about Pedro’s brothers and sisters in the Rescue Home in Estepona)

6 Comments

Filed under Dogs, Lifestyle, Musings, Pets, Writing

Tagged as Adana, Cute pets, dogs, Pedro, Rescue Dog, Spanish Dog

May 16, 2014 · 12:54 pm

Cornwall – Week 1 – Minority Status – One Lick is Never Enough

So following on from a very successful trip to North Wales, where – hold the front page – IT DID NOT RAIN ONCE! We decided to chance our arm with another staycation and head for Cornwall.

Which is a VERY VERY VERY long way away. 362 miles, and 6 hours 15 minutes to be precise.

Kernow, (Cornish for Cornwall my lovers) is a Celtic Nation.

The Corns, Kernovians, Cornishers (?) were proudly celebrating, having just been awarded minority status.

This means the UK has promised to protect the rights of minority groups to “enjoy their own culture, to use their own language, to establish their own schools… and practise their own religion”.

I thought I’d share some of this culture, which we certainly enjoyed, oh yes my handsome:

Breakfast, started off healthy, sadly this didn’t last long:

As the rather delicious smoothies were washed down with:

Followed by pudding, from this Michelin Starred Ice Cream Van:

‘One lick is never enough’ – states the flourish on the van door, and it wasn’t, leaving a disappointed dog:

So, after a quick walk/stroll/amble along the South West Coast Path spotting ship wrecks at Coverack:

It was time for refreshments – Cornish Afternoon Tea – jam goes on first, then cream in Cornwall:

Well, that filled a hole, but having arrived back in Falmouth, we decided Fish and Chips might be in order for supper. However, first we bought beautiful bread from this bang – on bakery:

Before joining the queue here at the Best Chippy I’ve been to since the last one I went to:

Now, I know in Glasgow, Deep Fried Mars Bars are de riguer, but here in Kernow, the more discerning diner goes for the Deep Fried Creme Egg.

And on that note, I’m signing off and heading for my hand bag where there should still be some Indigestion Tablets lurking.

Kernow + Culture = One Lick is Never Enough!

Week 2 – Minority Status – to follow.

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Filed under Artisan, Community, Cornwall, Culture, Dogwalking, English Countryside, food, Musings, National Trust, sea, travel, Writing

Tagged as Bank Holiday, Cornish Pasties, Cornwall Minority Status, Coverack, cream tea, Falmouth, Kernow, seaside, South West Path, St Ives

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Pearls are Perfect Presents

Here we have a gorgeous pair of signed Napier faux pearl earrings.

They are lush.
With a luxury luminous lustre.

Pearls are the oldest known gems.
They can be traced back to 520BC; a fragment of jewellery was found in the tomb of a Persian Princess.

Known as the Susa necklace, it is now on display in the Louvre:

To the Ancient Persians, pearls symbolised the moon and its magical powers, alluding to purity and perfection.

In December 2011 La Peregrina famously sold for a record price of £7 million at Christies, New York. Once owned by Queen Mary I of England, the pearl was bought in 1969 by Richard Burton, as a Valentine’s Day gift for his wife Elizabeth Taylor.

Here she recounts the story of losing the pearl during a stay at Caesar’s Palace, Nevada:

“At one point I reached down to touch La Peregrina and it wasn’t there! I glanced over at Richard and thank God he wasn’t looking at me, and I went into the bedroom and threw myself on the bed, buried my head into the pillow and screamed. Very slowly and very carefully, I retraced all my steps in the bedroom. I took my slippers off, took my socks off, and got down on my hands and knees, looking everywhere for the pearl. Nothing. I thought, It’s got to be in the living room in front of Richard. What am I going to do. He’ll kill me! Because he loved the piece.

After few minutes of mental anguish, Taylor looked at their puppies. One of them was apparently chewing on a bone, but nobody gave bones to the puppies. She continues:

I just casually opened the puppy’s mouth and inside his mouth was the most perfect pearl in the world. It was—thank God—not scratched.”

That story makes me hyperventilate just thinking about it.

Have you ever done that?

LOST A PIECE OF PRECIOUS JEWELLERY?

I have, frequently.

Returned to the sock drawer, or sugar bowl, or mattress cover, and felt that hot tide flow over me with the horrid, dreadful realisation/paralysis that what was a certainty, what I was so sure about, is no longer.

And then the panic, the anxiety, the STRESS!

Is it behind the boiler? In the freezer? At the bottom of the cotton wool ball bag?

Followed by the relief. It was in my dressing gown pocket. Of course it was. Der.

These pearl earrings won’t cost you millions, and I doubt they’ll find their way into the Louvre, but they are very beautiful, and would make a fabulous gift.

Put them in a safe place. One you can remember!

Click on the photo, and they can be yours!

Working Windmill in Windy Wales (Pt II) All Grist to the Mill

George Orwell wasn’t a fan.
Of dying metaphors, that is, I’m not sure whether he was a fan of windmills or not.

What’s not to like?

Windmills are wonderful. Literally.

It is an awesome thing to watch wind captured, to witness invisible swirls and draughts caught by, embraced by huge lumbering sails.
That great gigantic beehive coaxed into action by gusts of breeze and bluster.
Not just the wheat or barley adding grist, but the wind itself.
Without wind – grist grinds to a halt.

Which is what Orwell would have preferred:

‘Dying metaphors … a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are: Ring the changes on, take up the cudgels for, toe the line, ride roughshod over, stand shoulder to shoulder with, play into the hands of, no axe to grind, grist to the mill…’

What dying metaphor would you add to his list?
Or have you invented your very own cliche?

My donation is not a metaphor, nor a cliche.
But it is the most overused/misused word in the history of words. And that is:

Absolutely.

Yes, absolutely. You’re absolutely right.
Absolutely no way. Absolutely perfect. Absolutely ridiculous.

Anyway. I absolutely must go. I’ve got grist to grind.