Dandelions and the visit.

So, the lawn. Well all in all not a bad job for being done in the dark, but I now notice that it is absolutely covered with Dandelions, a sea of yellow and green. I did miss the occasional long stalk but it now looks mowed and I can now shake my head at some of the neighbours lawns as I go past with a quick, ummmm… that could do with a mow. I still have to do the back lawn, but I’m sure that Max (my dog) loves the feeling of the jungle grasses rubbing against his belly as he prances around the back yard. And as today I did get home by 2pm, I could have actually done it, with the exception that it is bucketing down with rain outside, oh well.


Ok, so I am back from my trip, my fiends A & M are both well and now have 2 kids M & J, now J was 3 the last time I saw them and M just a glint in his dads eye. It’s funny it was like I had never really been away. Still friends and still the same (with the youth part of all our temperaments removed). I had a good time we chatted ‘til late at night did a little reminiscing but all in all nothing too exciting. Oh well, I guess they are an old (alright young) married couple now. I was invited to go to a friend of theirs childs birthday party (for a 5 year old) I declined and came home. We will stay in touch this time though as I have invited them to visit in a few weeks time. It’s funny, this isn’t what I expected, but as for what I did expect, well I’m not sure exactly what that was either. It was almost a disappointment, I expected things to be different I guess but they were exactly the same. This doesn’t really make sense I know but oh well. I did however have a kick ass breakfast of bacon eggs and pancakes….. yum.

Foggy Day (and just one more photo) and some useless info.

The Dastard mentioned that Sydney was shown on the news (or something) the other day because it was all fogged up. I was actually there (did you see me waiving at the camera? No? Look harder if they show the footage again). Anyway I remember being ripped from my slumber after about 2 hours of it at 6.30am, to open the curtains and be accosted by said fog. It was a thick white sheet and you couldn’t see crap through it. This said it was gone within a few hours and all the photos I have in the previous post were taken that very day.

Oh, I mowed the lawn this afternoon after work, it would be more appropriate to say this evening, because it was on dusk when I started and kinda after and (a bit too) dark when I was finished. The reason for this, well it has been a (very) long time coming and today I was finally guilted into it by every other lawn in the street, neighbourhood, city even. I have been meaning to for a long time but every weekend I have better things to do, you know wash my hair, watch TV, lie in bed and read a book, you know, important stuff. But as I said today I caved. I am going away on the weekend (and possibly the following two after that) and I am pretty sure I don’t have a machete to cut my way to the front door through the lawn. Also I know it’s only a matter of time before the neighbourhood mafia comes out to kick my ass for not doing it. But it is now all done – I will get to see the fruits of my labour tomorrow morning – it looked ok in the dark all the large tufty bits are gone, but I couldn’t see the grass that well by the end. So, as I said tomorrow will tell, but to be honest I don’t have time to redo it anyway, so oh well...

Alright, it’s a bit of a mixed bag tonight, I usually stick with just one thing but here is the final thought of the day for you. Here is a photo I took on Wednesday, around 3pm. A dark night for the States I imagine as we seem to have taken the moon from you on this one occasion. I love this photo. Also taken at the Quay (but you can’t really tell).


The moon on a sunny day. 

I am going away for the weekend – have a great one all who read this and I will (I promise Regan) post again when I get home Sunday. I am going to see a friend I haven’t seen for 6 years so I should have something to talk about. She is one of my friends from the teen - early 20’s years and they know most of the drunken secrets of our youth, she might remind me of a few stories that I can share. Have a great weekend, if you can’t be good be good at it (oh and yes it is Friday night tonight Saturday tomorrow for all you, but it is Friday todayers).

Neglect and a Junket (oh and some photos).

I love to write in my blog and it was never my intention to let it slip, but of late this is exactly what I have allowed to happen. Here is one very feeble excuse for you.

I had a training course in Sydney this last week. I left (with a majority of my office - not the furniture, the people who work there) on Sunday afternoon (by plane) and got back late last night (thank God the airline didn’t loose my bag this time though). This course was a little like every other I suppose (or maybe not). Our facilitator (or trainer if you will) had his first attempt (oh boy, do I use this word loosely) to teach us a new system for my company (by ‘my’ I don’t mean I own it (I wish I did), just that I work for them). So apart from me falling asleep throughout the actual training, it was quite a bit of fun. Corporate Cards beware, that’s all I can say. I drank to my hearts content, woke each morning with (very) minimal sleep and the reddest eyes you had ever seen, to once again sleep through out the training and then drink the night away (ok I wasn’t really that bad – but one of the other guys was!!). Anyway how cool would I be if I said, oh yes, I went out for dinner every night and then went back to the Motel around 10 and left the others to their drinking? Yeah, not really, (although this is closer to what actually happened). We got put up in a very nice, very expensive motel (I love the guise of a business trip) and all our meals and alcohol was provided (well by ‘provided’ I mean we chose where to eat and drink and the corporate cards were whipped out all over the place) and with the exception of buying some new clothes I did not spend a cent on my trip (of my money anyhow).

So this is why I haven’t been around (for the last week or so) I will post up some photos I took at the Quay to prove it (I know I don’t need to) but you can see the Bridge and the Opera House just for fun. (I have been fighting with blogger for the last hour or so trying to do this and one per post is the best I can manage – so I will put them up as multiple posts – I have posted the pics first so they are below this (as if you haven’t already noticed)).

Anyway I am also going away for the weekend to visit an old friend and I have plans for the following weekend and my mum was saying it’s about time I visited her too. Man, I have successfully been a hermit for the last few years and I only now have started to radiate friendship vibes that make everyone want to get back in touch with me and want to do stuff, I don’t know. As they say, when it rains it pours.


The Sydney Opera House (and a little red boat). 

One of the Sydney ferry's (as you can see Sydney is at the forefront of technology with these beasts - not). 

Centrepoint Tower (this isn't at the Quay but was right next to my motel (hence the angle)). 

Well the sign kinda says it all 

The Sydney Harbour Bridge  

Left to my own devises

So today my boss, and all the managers in the office (for that matter) went off to an agricultural fair. I had no interest in going (farm equipment ... pl-ease!!). But the word junket had been thrown around. I did however get the speech late yesterday afternoon that the only reason I wasn’t asked to come along is because they were conscious of the staff numbers going – whatever (did I mention farm equipment – YAWN).

So anyway, today I went into work, no managers or any kind of ‘boss’ if you will anywhere – I have the office to myself and it is bliss. I (foolishly) think that I am going to finally be able to do all the work that has been building up in my tray for weeks and then be able to come in to work with a clear conscious the following day (that would be tomorrow). But in actuality my day went a bit more like this.

I arrived at around 9am (no sense in rushing, who’s there to rag me for being late? No one - I usually start around 8.30am). I slowly get a cup of tea and sit at my desk, get out the laptop (they make us lock them away). And plug it in (it’s not that difficult it has a docking port (yes, I know, I know, just like the star ship Enterprise)). But I do (only very occasionally) have trouble matching up those little holes on the bottom of the PC so it’s plugged in right – but that’s a whole other story).

So by this time, it’s almost lunch time, well ok it was really only around 9.05, but I logged on, read all my emails (emailed back to people) did a quick (ok extended) blog run, then looked at the clock. So by now it was actually closer to 11am Umm… yeah… shit I should do some work then I guess. Who ever ticked the ‘can work without supervision’ box on my application for this job was sorely mistaken. Well that’s not entirely true, but you give me free reign on the internet and access to email and watch my productivity plummet (to below ground).

By then I had a huge guilt rush and hurriedly completed a few things, went through all my pending maters and then, oh no…lunch time. So off I go for, oh I don’t know an hour (or so) after all no one to keep track of me right? So I’m back at work still a little guilted by some stuff that has been in my tray since, when? OMG, the 12 July, ummm, yeah well I got rid of that pretty quick (how’d it get in there anyhow – nothing stays there for that long! Or so I thought). So anyhow I get to around 3pm and my brain has stopped working again. I am emailing to 3 separate friends so have to constantly reply to the 3 streams, you know you send an email, you receive and email from someone else, then you answer, then get another (it’s a vicious cycle) so I spent about half an hour doing this until guilt gave me another slight shake and I stopped responding to the emails.

Then another quick check in the blogging world to see if anyone had updated in the last hour or so. Guilt again… and so for the rest of the afternoon, I shuffled papers and procrastinated the day away.

The moral of this story, if you leave me unattended in the office for the day, take away all my Internet/email privileges and give me a shitload of work to do. It is apparent to me after todays venture that I am a slacker who needs no encouragement to behave like this. I should have gone on the junket I would have gotten more work done...

The Chronicles of Ridiculousness

I have been slacking and for this I apologise. I am not having a crisis I just don’t honestly have much to say (oh, how my friends would laugh at me if I said this to them – I always have something to say…).

But today I want to talk about this. I watched the Chronicles of Riddick (excuse all spelling – I don’t know how this is spelt – the name that is) last night, not at the movies on my PC, a copy that a friend obtained for me from a glorious information tool called the internet (I wont say much more about it for fear of the repercussions – but let’s say I didn’t pay for it (other than to be ridiculed in my request of which film I wanted) and I haven’t sold it either so I should be safe as far as the warnings go, right? Oh well).

Now I love Vin Diesel (or Mark Vincent, as is his actual name, yes I am ashamed to say, I have done a little underhanded internet based I am a crazy stalker search to find out more about him). But he’s not exactly an intellectual is he. Hey, don’t get me wrong, he could be a Rhodes Scholar (as I don’t personally know him), but the parts he chooses to play are all about the brawn. But this said, I am not complaining, I am up for a little bit of brawn as much as (if not more so) than the next girl. But this movie (as with most of his movies – I said most, there is always an exception to the rule) was kinda crap.

I glossed over the fact that it has lots of cool effects in it, but it had a lame predictable story (sorry, to all who enjoyed it – well I’m not that sorry; on a visual level I kinda enjoyed it too). When it finished and I was wondering if I missed something. (A bit like when I watched Eyes Wide Shut – man, I spend 3 plus hours watching that, spending most of the latter part of that film waiting for something to happen, then the end credits roll only to have me asking if they actually stopped the movie when I went to the bathroom, because I must have missed something – must have… this movie (EWS), ranks as my top choice for things that I have wasted my time doing and will never get the precious time back – I was told my teenage brother that I just didn’t get it (as if he’s all knowing) but, damn straight – I didn’t get it). But I digress. Ok short plot synopsis, he (Vin, of course, as he is the topic de jour) is the ‘chosen’ and will in the end kill the evil ruler trying to wipe out all mankind (ok, not just wipe out convert, to their (the evil guys), religiony thing too – see I payed attention – kinda). I would have saved myself a couple of hours if I’d just read a review I guess, but then again I wouldn’t have got the visual pleasure that keeps me coming back to watch his movies. Alas though ladies, from memory, there is no shirt removal, but he does spend a bit of time being all chained up and he flexes those muscles with various ass kickings (administered to others) by him.

So what have I said? Nothing really, as usual, but I think my main point is I am shallow. I will watch these, no plot, crap movies to get a glance at the pretty, I know that I won’t get too much value from them and the most I can come up with for comment at the end is something along the lines of, “Man that Vin Diesel is hot, yeah?” Well at least I didn’t pay to see it like I usually do when I go to see one of his flicks, its an unhealthy obsession, I know, I know… did anyone see ‘A man apart’? No?, well I did (I was alone in the theatre, with the friend who came with me on opening night) – I rest my case.

PS – I watched ‘Hell Boy’, the day before and thought it was a much better flick (judge me as you will…).

Champagne taste on a beer income

The title is a saying that my grandmother uses, it doesn’t really apply to me much anymore as I have a job with a decent wage (ok, well…kinda) and I can (generally – let’s not get carried away here) afford whatever I want.

I don’t think of myself as a snob. But if you analyse it, perhaps I am. I blame my mother – snobs after all are made not born. This is why…

My sister, a tiny tot at the time, maybe 3ish, before she was at school, rushed in to tell mum some fantastic news. (For background I am 24 years older than her, just in case you think my memory is outstanding, it wasn’t that long ago for me).

“Mummy, I can spell car!” An impressive statement for someone so young.

So to call her bluff, ‘Ok then Sweetpea, spell car for me’.

Wait for it…..

“B M W” 3’s happy, smiling face showing how smart she thinks she is… (Once again for background, at the time mum’s car was a BMW, black, sunroof, the works, very nice… and the little chicken was reading back the letters written across the back of the car – smart kid really).

But, what can I say she’s doomed…… we’re all doomed!

Now this brings me to the point that in my family we’re all brought up this way, had a good life, lots of nice things (mostly – nothing is perfect) and then are cast to the world to fend for ourselves (ok we are usually 17 or 18 before this happens).

Now I have lived in Pov (erty) alley, I have flatted with others where we have eaten a can of potatoes (did you know they came in cans? Neither did we, but we found one in the back of the cupboard) with some cheese melted on them as a meal – isn’t it funny how you always seem to have cheese, maybe because it just lasts for so long.

Now both my brothers are at this stage one is 18 and a student, the other, 20 dropped out, oh sorry, my mistake, “took a year off” his studies to work as a cook for a certain fried chicken chain.

Now 20 constantly complains about how mum always has the nicest of things and that he can’t afford to buy any of this (oh, poor, poor 20 – get a better job! Cooking fried chicken, surprisingly enough, actually doesn’t pay all that well…). But don’t feel too sorry for him. Both of my brothers live together, in a house the parents bought (and yes it was for them) they pay a pittance of rent and whenever mum goes to visit (which is fortnightly) she buys their groceries. Am I bitter? Nooooooo…..I’m not like that at all.

The inspection

This tale is dedicated to and inspired by Regan, our Evil Science Chick. But it is also for all the whiners who couldn’t wait for another post…

Ok this took place in the house I lived in before the current one, the real estate I had was anal, beyond all call of duty if you ask me. I got an inspection notice regularly every three months, bleuch! (I note this point, as this is the only real estate to ever do this to me – I was in one place where they inspected it once in 3 years, and this is when the owner wanted to have a look).

So I get the letter from the real estate, I stick it up on the fridge, as always – that’s where all the stuff to do (mostly bills) and things to know go. So we get down to the day before, now in this letter there is a disclosure, this appointment is for blah, blah… as we have a lot of inspections that we need to do these times cannot be changed…blah, blah…you can be present if you want blah, blah…. Now this pisses me (and to be honest is illegal, the real estate cannot refuse to change when they do an inspection as they are required by law to have your permission). In the past I always insisted being there for the inspection but I had to take time off and I had better things to do so after a while I thought screw them they can do what they want.

Now my house has been know to be untidy (never dirty, just untidy) on the odd occasion, oh yes it is true… but this one inspection (and yes even with 2 weeks notice, or more I’m not too sure). I though fuck that shit, they are here to look at the house, make sure I haven’t knocked any holes in the walls, etc. so I ain’t tidying shit for them. (please excuse my (lack thereof) eloquence).

So I leave the dishes (only the night before, not the last months worth) on the sink (in a nice pile, lets not get too carried away) and the rest of the house is clean and a little untidy, but in order, you know piled up here and there, no obvious mess anyhow. So off to work I go.

Now the inspection is for between 9am and 5 pm (oh yes, that was there vague, be there or you might miss us timetable), but I have already stated I was not going to be hanging around. So anyway later that afternoon I get a call. Yes it is from the real estate. I have a (mostly) positive attitude about this as I know the place was ok. But here is the hit. Some girl, oh lets call her Hesitant, gets on the phone.

Hesi “I completed your house inspection today”.

Me “Oh yes is everything ok?”

Hesi “Umm, well no actually, there is a problem…”

Me “Oh really? What’s wrong?”

Hesi “Ummmmm”

Me “Yes”

Hesi “Umm…. the house was a little untidy”

Me “Untidy? Could you be a little more specific?”

Hesi “Ummm, it was just untidy”

Me “Right….I don’t know what that means… what was untidy?”

Hesi “Well, it was just untidy; I am going to do another inspection next week…”

Oh my god!!!! I snapped…

Me “Look, you have to be more specific, untidy does not tell me what is wrong. Tell me what is untidy. I can’t fix something if I don’t know what it is!” yeah, I might have raised my voice a little.

Hesi “Well I will come back next week, look the house was a little untidy… umm hold on…”

So I am holding…

Someone else comes onto the phone, lets call her oh I don’t know, Normal.

Norm “Hey Nord, how are you?”

Me “Oh not too bad, Norm, can you tell me what this is about?”

Norm “Umm, well, not really…. oh hang on.” So normal goes away for a sec and comes back…

Norm “Well, Hesi said the place was a bit untidy”

Me “Jesus, what the hell does that mean, I need a few details here”

Norm “Yeah, it doesn’t really say too much does it? Hang on I’ll ask her” Oh to hear a voice (faint as it was), of reason.

So she goes away again, so I am waiting again. And she is back.

Norm “Umm, yeah, she said your dishes weren’t done…”

Me “What?!? You’re kidding me?”

Norm “No that’s what she said”

Me “So your telling me your coming back to my house next week for another inspection to see if I’ve done my dishes?”

Norm “Ahhhh… no I wouldn’t think so”

Me “I thought you were supposed to check if I had smashed a hole in the wall or burnt away half the carpet”

Norm “Yeah, that is what we are checking for, hey look, don’t worry, no one will be coming back next week, sorry about the hassle, I’ll have a talk to her”

Me “Yeah, you do that.”

And I never heard from her again, Hesitant never did another inspection of my place again and I never got another call. Oh and just to spite them, I never did my dishes when I had an inspection. Screw them!

The call

I don’t have caller ID on my phone or an answering machine, so if the phone rings, I will answer it. I don’t have too much of a problem with telemarketers as I am at work in the day and if they do call I am pretty quick to say I am not interested, but that is not what this story is about.

My nana (grandmother) calls me to have a “chat”, every few weeks, I have called her once in the last six months, I always tell her I will call her, she always tells me that I always say that and before a reasonable amount of time (sometimes the phone is still warm from the last call) she will call again and she always feels the need to tell me that I never call.

So this one time (at band camp – he he, sorry couldn’t help myself), she calls me. Now my nana is 75, my pop (grandfather) passed away some 10 years ago so nana is lonely and misses him. So she calls the family and talks at them for absolutely hours. Yes I did say at. I’m not sure if it is just my nan that does this, but she is the only person I know who does it to me.

She will call and talk non stop for the 3 hour (or longer depending on your luck) duration of the call, as long as I slip the occasional, oh, yes, sure in there she is good to go. It’s come to a point where I don’t really listen to what she says anymore, I used to, I used to for years, but she tends to repeat the same stuff over and over again and she takes a story that she has heard about another family member and twists this story into something unrecognisable from the real thing. An example for you, my grandmother argued with me for half an hour saying that my cousin was going to Uni in Canberra to study music (well audio engineering, actually) now I know this is not true as it is my brother who is doing this, I courteously tell her this and she starts to argue with me, now I know I am right and I give up the fight pretty quickly, what’s the point - she wont stop and thinks she’s right and will argue the point with me until she begins to turn blue.

Anyway now you know a little what she is like, here is a quick tale. Nan called me one night to update me on all the family stories (stuff I already knew, nana tells these stories over and over again – and my mum keeps me updated – my family hassles my mum telling her she will be like nan one day – makes me think that maybe one day I will be too, its not a comforting though). But back to the tale. My nana ring me this night, oh lets say Tuesday, talks to me for the traditional 3 hours, I didn’t get to see the movie I wanted to as I was listening to the call. I finally tell her I have to work the next day and that I have to go, so I say good bye, she spends a further half hour doing the wrap up and I once again remind her I have to go. Finally she does and I go to bed.

So the next night, what happens? I get a phone call, no caller ID but I am pretty sure it’s not nana because I spoke with her yesterday, so I grab the handset and… oh my god, it’s nana, again. Hey nan, is everything OK? She assures me all is well and goes into a complete rerun of last nights conversation, now I have heard all of this stuff many times before but usually I get a grace period where I can once again build up a tolerance to it and be ready for it all over again. But in the day between calls I haven’t had a chance to do this. I start with the yes you told me, yes you have told me that too, this though I find doesn’t usually stop the telling she just gets pissed with you and continues on. But after I have done this 5 or 6 times she snaps and has a go at me. So I say to her, nana you called me yesterday and told me all this. She hesitates just for a moment, something quite unusual for her, and then denies it! I try to convince her otherwise but now I am pissed off too, so eventually I let it go – she continues with the remaining time to once again to balance it out to be a three hour call, I eventually get her off the phone, thank her for ringing (I always do) tell her I will give her a call (I always do that too) she tells me I am full of shit and I never call (shit she may even be right about that – I say I will in my mind but I don’t think I do – I always call for her birthday and Christmas though!) and I go to bed, if the phone rings the next day I’m not going to answer it!(thinking back, I’m pretty sure she didn’t ring).

Left until the last

I always leave things to the last minute, I don’t plan to as a matter of fact I always plan to get things done with plenty of time to spare, but what can I say it just never works out that way.

My reason behind this story today is that I had to do a report (yes another) for the Uni subject I am currently studying. Now I turned down an invitation to visit an old friend on the weekend (who for some reason called me out of the blue after 6 years). I did initially accept the invite but called back the next day to make it the following weekend. The reason for my change of heart in going to visit her? I had a report due. Now to be fair the report was due today (Thursday) and had to be submitted online by midnight.

There was plenty of time to get this done, more than enough actually but I left it until tonight and I completed it within around 3 hours (showing how much time I would have needed to put aside), posting it at 11.47pm.

Why do I do this? I have no idea – I would have liked to have finished it last weekend, but I would look at my textbooks as I walked by and make a mental note to read the topic and make some notes, by this afternoon the mental notepad was full but not a note to be seen.

I can’t explain it I do this every single time, granted the larger assignments cannot be left until the last minute especially field research. But anything else, no matter the time frame, I always leave to the very last.

I know this is not too exciting a tale, I feel really slack for not posting on my blog but as it is now 12.11am and I have just completed a scientific report (humble as it was) I hope you’ll forgive me. I now, no longer have to worry about the report and will think of a good story to share with you tomorrow.

The walk

Firstly don’t think for a moment I don’t walk my dog. I do, just not at the moment (except weekends). It is the middle of winter and wild horses couldn’t drag me out of bed before 7.30am for work (and it is also kinda dark still) and when I get home from work around 5.30 – 6pm it is dark once again.

So where is this going? Well a month ago or so I had a day off from work (to sit one of my Uni exams actually – irrelevant but thought I’d slip it in) and the exam finished at 4pm. So here I have a beautiful day, if not a little cold, plenty of light left in it and Gluteus Maximus – Max for short and I decide to take a walk (well alright, I decided but he wanted to come, really, really bad!). I’ve scoped out the neighbourhood, I have ridden my bike around so I have a rough idea of where to go, so we embark on a new route and a new adventure.

Well, I get to the top of the hill in my street (I am also wearing my walkman, makes me a total snob as I don’t hear what anyone says to me and therefore I ignore them – I don’t do it on purpose I just (honestly) can’t hear them). But this time avoidance is impossible, a lady, comes straight up to me mouthing some incoherent words as I am still singing along to the musical styling of whatever cd was in my walkman at the time. I realise that she is talking to me, yes me. I pull out one of the earphones and say:

“Yeah, hi.” I am just a pleasure to meet.

“Oh hello, it’s good to see you taking Max for a walk.”

“Excuse me?!?” I am by now thinking how the hell does she know his name? Slight panic grips me and I also make a mental note NEVER to shout out the window at him again when he barks, saying something along the lines of “Shut up Max!”(or usually something quite a bit worse). Also the implication I don’t walk him, well lady we are not all retired with all day to play you know!

“So, how do you know his name?” I asked, with great curiosity. I am waiting for it.

“Oh, well it’s on the tag on his collar” Oh the revelation, how do you think it got there lady, yep that’s right I, his owner, bought it for him, so I am aware it’s there, still not fully answering the question though. So I wait…

“Oh and as I live across the road from you in the (add description of your choice here) house, I see him though your fence and I go up and pat him and say hello, I take my grandkids over to visit him too and my daughter sometimes says hi and pats him.

Jesus lady, get your own dog. By now I am a little pissed, for a bit of background Max is a Golden Retriever, he is the most docile dog on the planet and he looks like a little Golden Bear, very cute. He barks when people walk past the house (at night) and would smother anyone with affection if they were to crossover into his domain. But she doesn’t know that and I am pissed because she has been trespassing, on a somewhat regular basis to say hello to my dog. Unjustified in my pissedoffedness, maybe but here is why I am pissed at this situation.

Firstly she walks through my front yard past the house to the back fence, reaches through the fence to pat my dog. Now if my dog was to, oh I don’t know, bite that bitch all of a sudden it would become my problem. She, if she chose to could press charges against me or sue me and I would be ordered to put Max down as a dangerous dog (this thought does not please me). My recourse against her, basically nothing, trespass perhaps.

Now I would never, I repeat never go up to a foreign dog, who incidentally is behind a fence in someones back yard, no matter what bred, to pat them, never. I am pissed she would do this to me. I can’t do anything about it as I am at work in the day and I can’t stop her. I didn’t want to be a rude bitch by telling her to stay the fuck off my property although I wanted to, as she does after all live just across the road, and as she is retired can keep her beady little eyes on my house and stop those nasty burglars from stealing my shit (she is after all a constant visitor apparently anyhow).

So there you have it, my stalemate with the neighbour. I do hope one day Max tries to take a piece of her, although it’s very unlikely, as he is now familiar with her as she has visited so often. It still makes me mad though.

Oh and the walk? She talked to me for half and hour before finally letting us go. Max and I walked for another hour and when we got home it was dark. So much for our daylight romp!