Blog Jam

Ansa's getting old. Really old. Bad incident last night with her bleeding from her mouth all over the downstairs. I think her cataracts cause her to bump into things. At first I thought it was another animal attack outside but there were no scratches on her face and I think she pierced her lip with a tooth when she ran into something in her 2 minutes out of my sight. I can't get near her jaw to check.

Tonight she got stuck on the floor. I'm not an engineer and she's a heavy dog + bad back here too. I tried a sling with a sheet and then as she licks my hand (gawd, it breaks your heart it does) I heave upwards with her back end and she lets me. We are both weepy from the indignity and the effort. Problem solved. For now. I've now banned her from the office as she won't walk on the rugs laid down all over it. Dog are like that, delicately stepping around all safety measures. She's on the back hall big rug now. I may have to fence her in a little more.

Meanwhile my PG* has fallen so deeply in love with Newfoundland he's bought a house here and is not going back to the U.S. but is outsourcing the sale and disposal of his properties in Massachusetts. Imagine. I don't think it's my delicate crepes for breakfast or my wee Tigeen doing the trick but how lovely. He is enchanted. As I was and am. The fairies got him too, as the saying goes.

We have our big community midday dinner tomorrow. Hot turkey meal, veggies, dessert, tea/coffee all for $12.00. I mean seriously. I couldn't cook it for that.

I made an old recipe from Ireland tonight. It was served in spring when there were more winter onions than they knew what to do with left over hanging from the rafters in the barns and sheds, so they'd be incorporated into a lovely whole wheat bread. Lashings of them. Usually served for breakfast with an egg or two. The carmelized onions sit on the bottom of the pan when you stick the loaf in the oven and then they swim their way through the bread, some breaking rhrough the top. Heav-en-lee.

*Paying guest

What I did on my Summer Vacation

Fort Amherst across from Signal Hill, St. John's, Newfoundland.

Thanks for all the good wishes on my previous post.

I had a lovely week off in spite of the weather that kept hissing and splatting and fogging. I took my friend around all the familiar (by now) tourist spots on the Avalon Peninsula once the sun struck which was far too rarely.

I note I've slid into 'creature of habit' status. I am still slightly discombulated from being forced out of my usual routine and with a friend I've never shared board with before so synching routines (downtime, uptime, shower/bath time, laundry facilities, food peculiarities, etc.)for a whole week knocks me right out of my comfort zone.

I realize it takes far more courage for a guest to travel a distance and land in the home of a person that up to now and over the many years has been a work, event and dinner companion, than to be the host of such a friend. Basically one is trapped. No car, no transit, totally reliant on the (hopefully) good nature of the chatelaine.

It all went rather well, I thought. Fresh routines were formed - for instance we watched a movie out of my vast collection every night before bedtime and we learned about each others' families of origin in all their uniqueness.

We are both great talkers and intensely curious about this planet we inhabit. And I learned much about her upbringing in Australia.

And I was absolutely thrilled that my whale buddies performed their show-off routines for her at Cape Spear. Thanks mates!