A rude awakening - read with caution...or a bucket

Maybe this will all be tooooo much information.

Maybe some things are best kept to oneself.

Or maybe I just need to blog it to offload. It's the virtual equivalent of brain bleach. It's my blog.

Maybe I should warn you not to read this first bit if you've just eaten dinner....or anything in the past twelve hours. If you are strong of stomach read on. If not, avert your eyes and scroll on down until you get to a photo of a manky old chair.

Merlie Moog was feeling a little bit squiffy yesterday but, nevertheless, did well at puppy training and enjoyed a run at the park and seemed very happy in himself. It didn't seem to be anything to worry about as he was drinking and eating and bouncing and playing. So, last night, we all went to bed as normal, until....

2.30a.m - Mrs Moog is awakened, thanks to her overly sensitive nose, by the most indescribably awful smell she has EVER smelled - and she's smelled some, believe you me.

2.30a.m and 1 second - Mr Moog is awakened by Mrs Moog announcing (rather hysterically, it should be noted) that a major sewer seemed to have burst all over the hall floor!

2.30a.m and 2 seconds - the now unexpectedly wide awake Mr & Mrs Moog realise that, in actual fact, Merlin Moog has burst all over the hall floor.

Suffice it to say, there was no chance of not stepping in it, as it was the consistency of thin chocolate milkshake and was EVERYWHERE (imagine floor, walls...)
with little by way of a dry route through, so a harsh decision was made. Shoes? None upstairs - they live downstairs, beyond the 'lake of euwww'. Barefeet? Yup (ugh).

I imagine by now you either have the picture or have your head down the toilet.

Then ensued a full forty minutes of mopping, gagging, scrubbing, heaving, more scrubbing, lots of rinsing, stomach churning, scrubbing of feet, more scrubbing of feet, thorough (and painful) hand scrubbing, and an ample bit of air-fresher-spraying all the while consoling a very sad and unhappy (and a shockingly suddenly skinny) little puppy, whose ears seemed to say something along the lines of:

OMG! WTF? WhatOnEarthJustHappened?Help!


Please be assured I DID NOT reach for my camera in the middle of the night - this was taken half an hour ago as those very ears are wondering where all the food has gone.

It transpired that £60 at the V.E.T. on anti-vomit drugs and anti-squitters drugs, plus £10 at the Co-op on best quality chicken breast should get this little (suddenly very skinny) puppy back to a more even eared state of being.

This evening he is much recovered but very confused. How do you tell a 19 week old starving (and suddenly very skinny) puppy that the only reason you're not feeding him more than a tiny spoonful of (best quality expensive) steamed chicken breast and rice, is because the lovely lady V.E.T. told your Mummy It.Is.The.Law.?



Hello! If you skipped the first bit I don't blame you. If you didn't skip the first bit, are you feeling okay now? (Don't say I didn't warn you!).

So.

Chairs.

Much to the dismay of my dear M-I-L we have a motley collection of six old secondhand oak dining chairs. Most women ( I'm reliably told) would, after 16 years of slumming it with a load of tatty old furniture, have insisted on brand new sparkly super posh designer chairs by now.

Some people need to realise I will never be 'some women'.

I always had a plan for these chairs but never quite got round to it. They got new seat covers roughly every two to three years, once the old ones got too stained/torn/sticky.


A rather unexpected burst of homemakerly energy this weekend got me half way to achieving the dream. Much scrubbing, sanding, wiping, undercoating (twice) and overcoating (twice) has started to make a definite impression. They may still be old and mis-matched but half of the six are now of uniform brilliant white eggshell.



Only three more to go and then it's on to choosing some gorgeous new fabric for our bottoms to sit upon :o)

Next up - surprise gooseberries!

'Found' during a mooch around the garden on Monday.

Someone (probably me) has planted a gooseberry bush in the garden and then forgotten about it. I spotted a little green berry whilst playing 'please stop grabbing the ball and buggering off with it' fetch with Merlin and of course one berry led to another and then another. Just enough for an apple and gooseberry crumble. Yum.

I think that after the rather gruesome start to this post (DON'T go back and read it if you avoided it the first time!) I should end on a much prettier note.


Rainbow fruit kebabs - deemed 'just about the best pudding ever' even by Mr Moog (!!!) - courtesy of my new found interest in Pinterest.

xxx