Magical mystery dog walk

There’s a word that can describe the autumn/winter seasons: cosy. You don’t get cosy in summer, it would, I imagine, lead to excessive sweating and nobody wants that. I was walking the dog this morning and because it’s so much darker when we worker ants get up in the mornings now, lamps and lights are being switched on to ensure damage limitation on things like stubbed toes, bashed elbows, underwear being put on inside out etc. As we walked past our neighbours, I thought how cosy the lights looked in the windows, warm and golden. I sometimes construct stories about people and houses as I walk by. There’s nothing in particular that leads me to make up a little story about one house and not the other… but I am intensely curious about people’s home lives. I wonder for example, whether they are happy? Whether they like rugby? Whether one person likes vegetables and the other one doesn’t? Whether they look ordinary enough but are actually other-world folk… when they close the front door and step down into the basement, where does it lead? To fairy passages, small underground towns, meeting places for magic folk… do they make witches potions and herbal concoctions…? Or do they just enjoy a glass of wine and a bit of telly?

The dog, it has to be said, is far less whimsical. He concentrates on left over bits of chicken, dog wee (his own and others), friends he spots on the way, cats and getting to the park in a timely manner.

He enjoyed his walk this morning, terrorising the squirrel population and playing with two Westies. I enjoyed the fresh air and that lovely – but all too brief – moment of the day, usually when walking the hound, when you pretend you have nothing to do and all day to do it.

Yesterday I got so much done it was like I was supercharged! Lot’s of housework and sorting, as well as proper ‘we pay you to do this’ work. And, AND, I cooked a delish meal for my partner who didn’t get back till 9pm. I do enjoy being a housewife!

Tonight, rugby and a birthday party – dilemma! Tomorrow a game of rounders for a another friend’s birthday party and then drinks at the pub. Sadly I shall have to be a watcher not a partaker in the rounders. My running days are well and truly behind me, although I can still wallop a ball a fair old way…

By the way, we posted out the wedding invites yesterday, hurrah!