Good. Living in the city, I now enjoy Bank Holidays. Although our area is quiet normally, it is almost dead on long weekends and the builders working on the house two doors down who are obviously deaf and shout at each other all day will be off for four days, so we can sit outside for lunch without the impression we are holding a street party in our garden.
The dog woke me at 4 a.m. which was quite annoying – for some reason he has now decided to sleep in our bedroom rather than in splendid isolation in the drawing room and as we have wood floors there is a terrible click, click, click of claws as he changes sleeping positions (approximately 100 times a night), followed by odd scratching of imaginary fleas, whimpering noises as he chases (or is chased) by something terrifying in his dreams, shaking of head which make his ears resound like gun fire, and eventually when truly bored, sitting and staring at me intently until I wake up and go down and feed him. Plan B was to shut the door at the top of the stairs – that failed too as he flops down against the door with a mega sigh which awakens me instantly thinking that someone has just broken into the house.
The blackbirds are now screaming at each other and it is almost light, so my day has started. The good news is that it is already 18° outside so another warm day awaits us. I knew it didn’t rain all the time in Brussels … only about 320 days of the year.
As we are not joining the hoads traffic-jamming it to the coast this weekend, we have decided to have a fun weekend sorting out mountains of bills and scrappy bits of paper to go to the accountants. It looks as though we shall be having a truly fulfilling time.
This will be our last weekend of ‘freedom’ – next week La Fée Verte and the Bébé Fée Verte are moving up to Brussels and to start with, into the house … well, I suppose this will cure the dog’s nocturnal habits, as he will be gathering up his belongings into his red spotted handkerchief and set off tearfully up the road … he actually rather likes small people as they invariably have food of some kind oozing out between fingers that are more or less at his height or are chucking it around – on the negative side they do tend to walk on paws and tails on their quest to get somewhere in a straight line regardless of obstacles, or dogs, that may be in their path.
The thought of the panic to come has suddenly made me tired, so armed with my second cup of coffee I shall retire back to bed and hopefully the dog will now stay in his basket, having been fed, been out to inspect (and pee) on the New Husband’s latest Blue Peter Project (growing of potates in what was meant to be my herb garden) and had a good sniff around to see if there are any cats lurking in the bushes.
