Surprise!

Beware the weeds!

Not a brilliant night, but OKish. Up slowly and without any particular demands. T did not bother to get up at all. I thought about arising for quite a while but realised the day ahead needed my attention.

The day was grey, not cold and not forecast to improve. I wanted to walk the dogs back at Pangbourne Meadows where we had enjoyed fun yesterday, despite being careless with the ball. I needed another ball but could not think where I could get a suitable one locally. On a Sunday.

I bundled the dogs into the car and searched the car boot hold-all, where I discovered the blue non- identical twin of the orange ball that was mislaid yesterday.
We arrived at Pangbourne to discover that the swans must be enjoying other delights because they were not on guard today. So we joined the other people strolling the meadows, engaging some in conversation. Usually doggy based.
I threw the ball and Minnie chased it, and H helped. A bit. Minnie, reluctant to give up the ball, is in treat training. Treats help to get her to drop the ball and there is a race involved. The race involves me picking up the ball before Minnie gets her treat. Or before she has eaten it.
I was mindful of all the panting yesterday so rationed the throws in a more timely fashion. I chatted to a pleasant female, approximately my contemporary, who recounted her love of labradors and how she had lost her last one 14 weeks ago. (She omitted to tell me she had also ‘lost’ her husband fairly recently, as I discovered a little later.)

I was getting ready to depart the tree trunk where I had been indulging in our ball games, when someone from the past appeared in front of me. Along with a very heavily pregnant (Armenian) daughter in law and the elderly lady I had recently chatted to. (Where is Armenia? )

The ‘someone from the past’ expressed her sorrow that Tony had died. This was news to me because he had been chomping on toast just before I left home.

Kat Syfret! And a case of muddled identity! It was Sandy Dawson who had died, also news to me, but then he was not eating toast when I last saw him a few years ago.

Nick, Kat’s husband, had worked for many years alongside T, but was slightly junior to him, in Chambers. He organised the annual cricket match in memory of James Cox, which we shared with James’ family and various instructing solicitors. It was a big family/ work / annual event held at Christchurch Meadow (cricket ground) in Oxford. It was entertainment on a grandish scale with proper job caterers etc.

(James was around 30 when he died and T had grown very fond of him and they worked on various cases together. T was all but present at his death (stomach cancer) and had been instrumental in a final, desperate dash from the hospital to James’ home to pick up his welsh rugby shirt in which he wanted to die. His wish was granted.). A firm friendship with his three sisters and parents followed. James had done pupillage with Nick.

So there is also Cambridge history there because John had tutored Nick. Anyway, Kat tells me Nick is now retired and we plan to have a proper catch up. I knew they lived in Pangbourne and they had been on my ‘list’ for a while. Yesterday, I had been conscious of the sudden death of their dog Meg, mid-jump, at one of the cricket matches, which had caused me to stop over-exercising Minnie on Saturday .

And of their family – Robert works for the Halo Trust, and is about to become a father. He’s in Angola dealing with old land mines. John, is in Moscow! No one is quite sure why. Felicity is about to quit the army. Such a great family. For a while, Kat had put her Cambridge English degree to good use, teaching in prisons. They were, as a family, always off to strange places – eg Outer Mongolia, Denmark?!

And to tie this weedy ramble up, the elderly lady of Labrador fame, was Kat’s neighbour. So there you have it. All of it. Abbreviated version.

Upon my return home, I made a rhubarb cake, and heated up most of the remaining bean chilli and rice. We ate it and I fell asleep whilst England defeated Italy. The rhubarb cake tasted good. Makes a change from crumble.

I’m in the middle of watching, or trying to watch Doc Martin, final series, the Great Pottery Throw Down, Call the Midwife, Five Bedrooms and Portofino Hotel. Quite a lot going on there.

Nettlebed Cheese Shed has featured on a Raymond Blanc cookery programme. It was quite interesting because their three cheeses were explained.

This coming week is looking annoyingly busy.

The Illis have sent one photo of their skiiing action. So far.

There has been a silent doggy ‘altercation’. I don’t know when it happened, but it must have been polite. It was over the solid pretend bone that H has ignored for the last three months, since I bought it. Minnie found it and did not ignore it. It is no longer one long pretend bone, but two pretend bones. Both of which are the subject of attention for doggy teeth. It’s quite noisy! Scraping teeth and all that.

Thought for the Day