Tag: milk

Day 26

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Writing into Life, more

It was damp this morning, but mild and bright, when Lydia and I set off to the dog field that I’d booked for us; not too early.

We hadn’t been to this particular dog field for a while, as I know Lydia likes to race cars that pass on the other side of the fence of another dog park that I take her to, and it gives her a good workout. It’s good to have a change though, and she was wearing her happy legs as she sniffed and mooched about the field that we went to today.

Once home, with Lydia nudging her breakfast ball around the lounge, I reheated chips from last night’s fish supper for my own breakfast, giving them just short of 2 minutes at full power in the microwave.  They were sizzling and tasty, topped off with a light sprinkling of salt and vinegar and a splash of salad cream. A strong cup of tea completed my morning meal and I then went back to bed to rest for a while, to ensure that I’ll have enough energy reserves for more painting that I’m planning on doing tomorrow.

Suitably rested, I went out and bought in some groceries.  Somehow, as I was carrying the bags into the house, I dropped a container of milk, which split, spilling milk all over the floor.  So, I set to, soaking it up with towels and mopping the floor before putting the shopping away.  I managed to get some of the milk in a jug before it was all lost so, hey, no point in crying over spilt milk!

I decided to enter a poetry competition – who knows, I might just win – and chose three that have not previously been published by me or anywhere else.

As it’s Halloween, at Trev’s suggestion I bought some sweets as treats to give out in case we get any ‘trick or treat’ callers tonight. We haven’t had them here on previous years but you never know, so I have put them in a jar by the door, ready, just in case.

I’m doing an easy tea tonight: prepared spinach and ricotta tortellini with a simple tomato sauce that I’m making myself. I’ve chopped up and fried an onion till soft, added some chopped garlic and a tin of chopped tomatoes, plus a vegetable stock cube – chopped into small pieces – a splash each of soy sauce and Worcestershire sauce, a good squirt of tomato puree and a small sprinkling of brown sugar, to just take the edge off the tartness of the tomatoes.  It’s bubbling away now and I’ll finish it by using a hand-held blender to make it smooth.  I think it should be tasty and nutritious along with the pasta. 

Having unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and set the towels that I used to soak up the milk on a wash, I feel fairly up to date with what I need to do today so I think another rest is in order.

Lydia is lying by the back door.  I’ll see if she wants to go outside for a while before I go upstairs.

Day 22

'A Poetic Potter & A Potting Poet'Leave a comment

Writing into Life, more

I headed up for an early night last night, taking with me a glass of milk.  After drinking some of the milk I set the glass to one side, on my bedside cabinet and settled down. 

It wasn’t long before I heard a slurping sound close to my head. It was the noise that Lydia makes when she’s drinking water out of one of her bowls, but I know her bedroom bowl is close to the foot of the bed and not near my head.  She was drinking my milk!

It represented quite a feat, as she stretched her, albeit long, tongue into the glass.  After an initial pretend curse – “cheeky mare” or something to that effect – I picked up the glass and angled it so that it was easier for her to reach the contents. She slurped away, had a break, and then came back for the rest. She so enjoyed that milk.

A bit later on, I went down and got myself another glass of milk, had a couple of paracetamols and a buttered bread roll and settled myself down again, this time falling asleep and not waking until around 5.30am when a wet nose, attached to a soft muzzle, nuzzled me.

I knew, or was fairly certain, that she didn’t need a wee (or ‘peepie’ as we call it) because she’d been out for one earlier and she can go for hours and hours without needing another.  Going downstairs I opened the back door and, as I thought, she settled down inside the house. She just wanted to pick up on the early morning air.  So, I propped the door open, went back to bed and about half an hour or so later went back downstairs.  Again, as I thought, she was by now curled up in her chair so I closed the back door to keep the heat it. It was a cold morning.

I didn’t get back to sleep but felt reasonably rested after the hours that I’d had.  Later we went for our woodland walk. 

I fancied going out for breakfast, having not had much to eat the day before, so sent a message to Trev and he agreed. After giving Lydia her breakfast ball, and later a dental stick, Trev and I went out and had a full English. It was a very good full English and set me up for the rest of the day.

The rest of the day has involved yoga, taking some Christmas decorations and a Christmas tree to a charity shop, doing some shopping, coming home, and starting to write this post.

I’ve kept some Christmas decorations that have sentimental value for me, and I have another small Christmas tree that I will use this year. It’s good to let go and move on.

Lydia is barking outside. It is a beautiful calm evening. I will make a stir fry for mine and Trev’s tea later but for now, can just enjoy a sense of peace, having done all I can, for today at least.