Welcome to the Post Office...

Sometimes I wish I could stop time.  My inability to sew, walk the dog, read my Kindle, do housework and blog at the same time does get me down.  Work is a major inconvenience, but necessary.  I love writing my blog.  Seriously.  It makes me feel good when I hit 'publish'.  And I love the comments that are left for me.  I appreciate that people are out there, reading my ramblings and taking time to reply.  If I could only have an extra hour or two a day, I'd be a happy bunny.  

Part time week is nearly over and we are full steam ahead, crashing towards Christmas.  Now, you might not like this idea, but it has to be said.  My iphone app tells me exactly how many sleeps I have until Father Christmas comes and plays a jolly carol to boot.  I made the mistake of posting it on Facebook tonight.  The tongue lashing I received wasn't pleasant ;0)  Miserable buggers.


So, the craft fair at the end of September was a disaster.  I would have made more money at the local car boot sale.  And that is saying something.  (I went once - someone was selling one shoe and an electric toothbrush amongst other things).  The weather was amazing on the Saturday and I wish I had sun cream for sale as I would have made a killing.  By Sunday, Noah clearly had the right idea, and the heavens opened.  

The jam mountain ready to go -

I took Milo along and had his basket ready, a bag of crispy pigs ears and chews to keep him entertained. All was set.

Then a clown bought a live rabbit into the shop and all hell broke loose.

I say 'clown' but he informed me, he wasn't a clown.  He was a 'Performer'.  My mistake.  The huge shoes, wig, baggy trousers and braces confused me.  Needless to say, we had a psychotic terrier trying to kill said rabbit, howling like a wolf and pulling the table over.  Not a good start to the day.

A little bit of Christmas, just to get the seed planted for the next fair.

 Not forgetting my hot water bottles, I am so chuffed with these.  Someone at the fair was too as they nicked one!  I know, outrageous.

Now, don't get me wrong, all 'crafters' work differently, but there was some serious shite for sale. See, it has even made me swears on my blog! *shock*

Sock monkeys?  What exactly is the deal there?  I find them creepy beyond belief.  Not quite 'Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' creepy, but still scary. (I still can't watch that film - "Lollipops, I smell children" - Shudder).  However, a sock, turned into a monkey, given soulless button eyes and a cape and sold for £7! Please.  They looked like they had been made my a blind person, with no arms or legs, knitting with their teeth.  Sorry, don't shoot me down, but really????

Anyway, the hog roast man was there, so I was happy.  Even happier when he had a whole pig left on the Sunday and was selling the meat off cheap.  When a strange man offers you a warm bag and says "£4 mate" with sadness in his eyes, you kind of just do it, don't you?  I have never bought a carrier bag full of pork before, but there is a first time for everything.  One tip though - if you have crackling the size of a piece of A4 paper, don't eat it all in one go!  It will make you ill.  Just saying.


Oatie biscuits, not Hobnobs.  I repeat, NOT Hobnobs (copyright - don't want McVities banging on my door) were once a regular feature in my kitchen.  Obviously. Look at them -

I have been trying to stop myself baking things like this for a while as my waist line is slowly going down and my stomach no longer wobbles when I drive over a speed bump.  How I hate speed bumps.  My niece requested her 'special biscuits' so I dutifully made them for her and popped them in a box for her to pick up from the fair when she visited with my Brother and Sister in law.  The rain stopped her coming (is she made of sugar?) so I gave the box to a friend and ate the remaining 23 of them.   *Mental note to avoid all speed bumps for the foreseeable future*

I took this picture in Frankfurt a few weeks ago.  We are staying in Wiesbaden now, a lovely old Town with cobbled streets and too many craft shops.  I saw this display of wool felt and went weak at the knees.  Some people are into cars, I like felt, ok?  Don't judge me! It is normal in my world.

I started training Milo this week.  Having seen a 'silent dog whistle' in Pets at home (which isn't silent, work that one out?) I purchased it, along with lots of other dog related stuff that just happened to fall into my basket.  

After 3 days, it was going well, until I started trusting him.  Huge mistake.  It appears that he doesn't really respond to the whistle.  Or the treats he gets when he does come back, simply aren't good enough.  A small piece of cheese or tiny meaty bone no longer does the trick.  I know he wants frankfurters, I can see it in his eyes.  Herta frankfurters.  Not those cheap Lidl ones.  I have turned my poor wee rescue terrier from Ireland into a food snob. 

I still laugh when I get the 'stop blowing that damn whistle' look from him.  Bless him.  

We visited Grant the vet on Thursday to get Milo his passport.  Mum and Dad want to take him to Germany with them in December, so off we went, worried that the last time he saw Grant, he had his 'bits' taken away.   My biggest concerned wasn't the vet losing a finger to terrier teeth though.  It was Milo's picture for his passport.....

In Germany, dogs can go everywhere.  Cafes, restaurants and shops allow dogs in, unlike Britain.  I was tempted to get Milo one of those coats that says 'Assistance dog' or 'Customs', but figured that was going a bit far.  Plus those dogs are well trained...

My dilemma was getting Milo into the Post Office photo booth without being seen.  Then the problem of getting him to sit still, facing the camera 'without smiling', as stated in the Passport Photograph Regulations.  Easier said than done.  I was relieved to hear that his microchip was all that was required, so no need for a long Mac and a nonchalant look as I tried to smuggle a terrier into a public building.  Phew.  

C x x x