Blonde Days and Senior Moments
The title is sexist to say the least but I learnt the words "forgetful" and "vague" while working in a hospice. [I loved the job and it was a great excuse to be near Hisself.] As my mind struggles from day to day I am pretty confident that my problems are not terminal - just some long term damage for a townie who copes with a farm and the farmer on day to day basis.
First of all a German engineer came to visit. He is helping Hisself with his latest idea. A nice chap. Complemented me on the lunch I gave him during his last visit. [?] What last visit???? When???? Hisself tells me that he popped in a week or so after we returned from China with No5. I can tell you to the smallest detail of every doctor's visit, every poking health visitor, every sample we extracted, every visit to the needle nurse and every bit of progress we made as a family BUT I can not recall this German. Total blank.
My second problem is much more annoying. Hisself is not admitting - so not quite sure who to blame. Someone has re-organised the computer Favourites list to an alphabetical order. Hisself always had his sites organised that way; F for Farmer's Weekly, hence I can still find it. I would put it under A for agriculture closely followed by B for blogs, C for clothes and so on. As a result my two minute morning scoot to check the world has turned to an hour's struggle at night when everyone else is asleep. It is so bad that I need a large mug of chili tea to drown my foul language - luckily even the dog is in bed.
So we have arrived to my dog problem. When No5 arrived we had two Jack Russels and a little girl with sensory problems - she would not touch fur for example. As girl got better and braver the Top Dog objected. She soon [the dog that is] had a short trip top the vets and permanent residence behind the grain shed. The Spare Dog learnt her lessons: never go into a car with Hisself and No5 can do no wrong. This dog takes her new job seriously. She sits on my knee at every bottle time offering some hair for patting, leaves the rabbits for pushing the buggy and sits under the highchair at meal times keeping the place tidy. I have seen her patiently sharing her water bowl where No5 was washing her toy plates, offering her tail for balancing when No5 was learning to walk and even being stuffed into a trolley full of bricks without a complaint.
Problem? Her name. This dog has a name. I use it - the dog obeys. However everyone else can use any word and she is happy to recognise it as a call. No1 calls her Gut, and she comes bounding to his feet. Just to show off Hisself called her an "Autonomous Region of Hair" and it worked! Even No5 has joined the gang she will not use the Name, or even dog but has devised her own Bow Wow which the dog naturally loves. When under a lot of pressure I have trouble using the right name for the right child [the fact they move around makes it more difficult] - it would be nice if the dog would let me off the hook.