Chico playing with a bottle cap; and running off like a mentalist afterwards.
Chico playing with his ding-a-ling.
Chico playing with a bottle cap; and running off like a mentalist afterwards.
Chico playing with his ding-a-ling.
Mr. Alex suggested that I use my camera fingy to take some video footage of the pooch.
Mr. Cheeks loves the snow sadly it’s not as deep as it was a couple of weeks ago because it’s quite a spectacle watching him fearlessly tunnel and dive into it.
So without further ado:
CHICO IN THE SNOW
A Jack Walters Production.
The weather is changing again, and we have been warned to expect more snow leading up to Christmas Day.
Fair enough; what I didn’t expect though was to have a 20 minute blizzard appear out of almost clear blue skies, and vanish back into them afterwards.
It was almost as if it never happened, truly bizarre.
Just home from having my ankle assessed; I’m happy to report that it’s still there. Dr Dabis, the consultant who assessed me, said that I should expect long term stiffness. How do you receive news like that and not laugh?
I have surpassed the initial 6-9 month recovery period by some way; the anniversary of my accident was late November, so I am unsure how long I can expect all this to drag on. Oh well. 🙂 <———Grinning and bearing it.
Getting to glorious Banstead Clinic for the assessment was a bit of an ordeal; I had to walk from the train station along the A27 which was covered in ice. Banstead is a rather affluent area where the locals stroll around in garish jumpers and horse riding gear. Wankers.
Walking on ice is wank; but it seems like all the posh houses/roads are worse?!?? Particularly Clyde Road, which is right next to me!!!
People in their mock Tudor palaces are apparently quite happy to leave the pathways in a dangerous state; it’s a shame all the Tarquin’s don’t get a shovel out and help out a bit; not everyone drives from doorstep to doorstep in a 4×4!!!
Mr. Cheeks likes a cuddle at precisely 7pm; he either jumps up into my Antikrish sized armchair, or asks to be lifted onto my bed.
Being a rather tactile person, I understand the importance of this; although it’s a shame that I can’t reproduce the funny happy grunts and sighs that he makes when he snuggled into me really tightly.
Can’t help but feel it was deeply ironic that Bernard Matthews passed away on Thanksgiving Day along with thousands of his Norfolk Turkeys…..
….bootiful!
You must be logged in to post a comment.