We have been eating rather well of late. Mr Smith is getting wonderful dinners every night. My new cook book arrived The Hairy Dieters. We have followed their recipes to the letter and made some amazing meals. The portions are rather on the large side as they are for big hungry hairy bikers rather than fat little artists so I get it for lunch next day. Haven't lost an ounce. Actually, this is because I went on the razzle on Tuesday and got slaughtered. I still feel hungover and it's Saturday.
Hythe dog show today. We are taking the puppy and putting him through his paces. He is hopeless at anything that involves obedience and is totally thick so the agility course should be a hoot. He looks pretty.
Took the eldest fruit of my loins to a Folkestone for the day on Thurs where there was some dreadful art passed off as the Folkestone Triennial - the sort of thing that required a lot of words to describe its conceptuality. We didn't see Yoko Ono's step ladder or Andy Goldworthy's stairs with cement chucked down them but fell in love with the ticket office, a giant seagull with a window in its wing. Thank God Mr Smith wasn't with us.
My pompom shoulder injury nags on. Much better but still apparent.
Hythe dog show today. We are taking the puppy and putting him through his paces. He is hopeless at anything that involves obedience and is totally thick so the agility course should be a hoot. He looks pretty.
Took the eldest fruit of my loins to a Folkestone for the day on Thurs where there was some dreadful art passed off as the Folkestone Triennial - the sort of thing that required a lot of words to describe its conceptuality. We didn't see Yoko Ono's step ladder or Andy Goldworthy's stairs with cement chucked down them but fell in love with the ticket office, a giant seagull with a window in its wing. Thank God Mr Smith wasn't with us.
My pompom shoulder injury nags on. Much better but still apparent.
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