Non dog blog
Following criticism received from anonymous quarters, not mentioning any names obviously (DAD!) about the amount of dog-related subject matter in my blog, I’m going to write an entire dog-free entry today. Ready?
Well, got home yesterday from the horrendously long school run only to find that I had just missed the man from An Post, and that he’d taken my parcels back to some godforsaken delivery office in the back of beyond, oh and could I come and get them before 5.30pm otherwise they’re going back. So I set out on my perilous journey. My first mistake was to ignore a big sign that said ‘Cul-de-sac’, thinking ‘hmm, what a funny sign to put on a main road’, only to discover that said main road turns into – guess what! – a cul-de-sac over ten miles later. I then made full use of my new Irish swearing skills: ‘FECK!’, but eventually found the village in the back of beyond that I was looking for. Nicking a parking space in a local supermarket (SuperQuinn – what a great name) I then asked a man in a shop for directions and wondered how I could have possibly offended him as he stalked off down the road, then realised that he was actually walking and pointing and talking all at the same time, trying to show me where to go (all completely fruitless it turns out because I couldn’t understand a word he was saying). Long story short I found the delivery office, had a very long and equally unintelligible chat with the man behind the counter about the weather, England, and a couple of other dozen subjects that totally passed me by, and picked up my parcels.
Back at my SuperParkingSpace at SuperQuinn, I opened up my goodies to find the following:
* 8 grey shirts, ordered at considerable expense and in a right huff from the UK when I couldn’t find any here, only to find a shop here the next day that had MILLIONS of the bloody things
* 6 pairs of thick black socks off Ebay (what? You try living in a big drafty house with hard floors and no heating because hubby’s turned the oil boiler off because it uses fifty million euro worth of oil per hour)
* And finally a wicked black and white stripy trap coat with a big red 6 on it for when it’s cold and rainy and B doesn’t want to go for a walk – it’s even got a little doggy hood bit on it to keep the rain out of her eyes (oops sorry – dog talk, ignore that bit).
So, there you go. 99 percent dog-free. Ooh and my feet are toasty.
ciao joan in Italy