Even The Dog is Feeling Sinister - Except Not Really.

 

Okay, Sita, please don't chew my vintage copy of The Trial. 

Good Girl. Just pose nicely for International Dog Day. 

Wait, that was yesterday? Better late than never, hen. We're all new to this game. 

The kids are back at school. * Upbeat music with a hint of possible tension.*

I have to be first into the kitchen at 8am, to act as a human shield against Sita's triple back flips and 'bear dancing'..... to celebrate the mere fact that, it's morning, and WE'RE ALL STILL ALIVE, stumbling toward the Muesli. 

It's a joyous miracle in Sita's doggy brain. Let it be so!

I see Scotland are buying 12 minute Covid test machines.  Let it be so, and I hope they work. 

I tried to go to IKEA yesterday - for the first time in 7 months. Hand-break turn in the car park, ya'll!?

There were only about 200 people queued around perimeter, Billy bookcases calling their names. I just wanted a couple of dinky coffee cups, and some door mats ( Sita has chewed her way through my existing stock). I'm not buying anything that says WIPE YOUR PAWS HERE. Not yet, anyway. 

I need to get back to reading and writing. Reading always comes first. You can't write, if you don't read. 

I'm still unclenching myself from 6 months of non-stop parenting. A balled up hedgehog unfurling. It's hard to find my muse again. 

I make the kids' pack lunches each morning. Did you know, it's a social faux pas to package the lunch in the discarded Hovis or Warburton's bag?

I forgot this fact. Tess placed her hand on the sandwiches in the bread bag and said gently, Mum, we've talked about this already....

If talking ain't enough and you need some online meditation, my pal, once known as 'Stuart-y Boy' hosts regular sessions here. 

This time two years ago, I took Tess off school and we had a fantastic weekend at The Islay Book Festival.  It's online and digital this year, so you can check it out here. 

Stay there folks, and I won't be far away. 

Hands Up if You're Scared!

 What a swirl of emotion. My first-born son going off to High School on a calm, sunny morning. 

It feels 'normal' and right and celebratory, but I am passively terrified. I am in a minority. This is the first time since the pandemic began, that I no longer have full control of whether COVID19 will come to our home. Russian Roulette springs to mind.

If I had real guts,  would I opt to home school my kids at this point? But that's not what they want. 

Here's the paradox - most mums seem to be saying it's good for kids to go back to school. Most mums secretly expect cases to rise in a few weeks. How could they not? You just have to pray that the cases aren't in your home.

At the start of the pandemic, when the media were selling the  Mostly Mild line, I wondered if it would be no bad thing to catch Covid and 'get it over with'. To get out the other side, have immunity, then go on holiday and any other freedoms you could help yourself to. 

Eh, no. No, Ciara. Sit down. 

The more we learn about the virus, the more my fear pervades. I watched Surviving the Virus on BBC 1 recently and urge you all to watch on catch up. I love Dr Chris and Dr Xand. 

A recent study shows three quarters of Covid survivors have heart damage. Previously healthy people! Brutal. Just, brutal. 

And yet, here we are sending our kids off  to school full time, instead of optional part time, thus increasing the chances of bringing the virus home.

I have been mostly supportive of the Scottish Government approach up until now - with two exceptions - I'd have implemented FULL border control and 2 week quarantines YONKs ago, and I'd ease the kids back part time, with less chance of so-called super-spreader outbreaks. 

I know I get a reputation for erring on the side of pessimism. I just think it's practical realism. It's not always popular, but it could be life-saving. Heart-saving. 

Meanwhile, the flower shop is closed today. I am taking poor, long-suffering Tess, Lady of the Sad Cough, to an Ear Nose and Throat doctor at the hospital. We need all the luck we can get. 

So there we are. Another ordinary day, far from ordinary. Hands up if you agree. 

Sheesh, We all know that you're a fearty too , Sita. 

Fantastic Ms Fox

For the first few days, she was like a fox. She hid in her crate and wouldn't look at us. Ears back.  I felt a strange and heavy guilt, knowing she was traumatised from the long journey in a van. Our 5 month old gangly pup, Sita. She smelled like a dog. What was I expecting?

The dog rescue charity urges the adopters to be patient. Of course we had to be patient. It was like nursing a new born. I suddenly felt like a Mother-of-3, pacing the kitchen at odd hours, in a dressing gown, preoccupied with the next puppy-pad. 

Sita's little Bambi legs quivered when she crept out to her dog bowl. 

Tess wondered if she didn't understand English and only spoke Romanian. 

She will know kindness, said my mum. Kindly. It sounds like a title of a poem.

Slowly the kindness brought Sita out of herself. It took a few days before I saw that first wag of the tail. And then, doggy joy. Sniffing around. Cavorting around the garden like a lamb. She looked at me like I was her everything.

We have taught her to 'sit' for dog treats. Primary 1 in dog school.  I have to order her a non- slip harness and we have to wait another week before venturing out on her first walk. There's a long way to go, but she will know kindness. 

Here's a link to an 18 second CLIP of puppy does happy.  You know you want to.