TRUANT BEACHCOMBER’S DIARY


While the beach has seemed delightful and tempting of late, it has seen but little of me.  The lovingly lingering effects of the ‘flu have removed all desire for me to scramble through forests or clamber over dunes lately, and there have been various other distractions. 

 The collie contingent of the Pooch Pack do not take kindly to such abstinence, and today found their way there solo.  I thus had to trace and repair the latest escape route they had invented – this time they had exploited a weakness in a side gate.  They are certainly versatile.  They can force openings through impossible places, climb brilliantly, and burrow like moles.  They also jump like kangaroos.  One of their most brilliant exploits was to position a plastic bucket upside down near a fence, giving just enough springboard effect to launch them over it.

Much Better Half gave in today and allowed me to take her to the doctor – we had barked at one another a lot during the night.  I am now sharing the cough-mixture she was prescribed, but I hope I am managing to get over this without drugs or antibiotics.  I try to avoid taking either unless desperate, because I think they tend to be overdone to the ultimate weakening of one’s own immune system.

I did manage to do some necessary repairs, including to a little blackwood table of which we are particularly fond which has turned out not to be granddaughter-proof.  She managed to break a leg off completely, and to split the base into which the leg had been fitted.  Superglue is an amazing invention.

Talking of g-daughter, her turns of phrase are becoming more and more enchanting.  We went out for supper, and I took her to the play area which is up a lot of stairs.  Later she insisted on going back down ahead of me, saying, ‘I’m going down the stairs on my self, but do come and join me, Les!’  It is almost sad that she is now abandoning many of her quaint adaptations in favour of more conventional speech.  ‘Annimahleeahs’ are now ‘animals’ and all the other ‘ias’ have been dropped from words like ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ and ‘gran’, while I am no longer ‘Lessiedooey’.  She still uses things like ‘I did jump’ instead of ‘I jumped’, though.

© July 2010 Colonialist (WordPress)

About colonialist

Active septic geranium who plays with words writing fantasy novels and professionally editing, with notes writing classical music, and with riding a mountain bike, horses and dinghies. Recently Indie Publishing has been added to this list.
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6 Responses to TRUANT BEACHCOMBER’S DIARY

  1. Adeeyoyo says:

    I just love their words and expressions too. Ephelants was one of my daughter’s which my son then copied. She also told us the story of Little Red Hoodingride!

    Get well soon.

    Like

  2. cindy says:

    Clever Collies! Yes, it is sad when correct words replace those more fun. We held on to some of O Bunn’s, and an airplane will forever be an allopan to us.
    Get better soon, both of you.

    Like

  3. Tokeloshe says:

    C-u-t-e 😉

    I hope you and your better half feel better soon.

    Like

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