.....sat in my play-room surrounded by glitter ink and mess, listening to my old CDs cos its rubbish Saturday night radio. Freezing cold outside, the car and garage roof sparkling with heavy frost. The heater is on by my feet, and Joe is having a little moan cos there's no room for him to lie down in front of it. He is still wearing his coat, even though it is hours since we went for our walk, just as darkness was falling. I thought we might go out again before bed, but he refused and shot past me back into the warmth, and I get his message, a canine "no thank you".
Thinking about a message from Sara a short while ago, about Stefs mum being attacked and robbed, how badly she was hurt and how frightened she must have been, both at the time and now thinking about been alone again in her home.
I wonder about the coming week, the trip to Bristol, the arrival of baby on Thursday, hoping that all goes well for Selina and her little daughter, wondering if she realises just how big a life change they are in for. If they have half as much pleasure as I did being a parent they are in for a wonderful time, once she is safely in their arms.
There is some indignant sneezing behind me and a cold nosed dog is licking my ankle, I get the message and move away from the heat for him to squeeze in. He lays down, for a mere few seconds, before he heaves himself up and resumes his vigil on the top stair. He is on guard, waiting for Darsh to come home, something to that will not happen for hours yet.
.......but he stands there and waits patiently, for hours if his doggy brain thinks that it's necessary.
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