|Cows across the lane from Thompson's Auctioneers, between Hampsthwaite and Killinghall|
This gorgeous summer weather we're finally having is really making it hard for me to have my breakup fight with England. And I need my breakup fight.
My sunburn from last Friday's beach day in the Algarve is peeling, at least on my back. It's gross. But good, since as soon as that's gone I'll just be tan. Not the many shades of raspberry cobbler (red, pink, golden) I've been for the past six days.
We've got a lot to do to get this move in order. Tomorrow I'm working on plane tickets... mine and the pets'. Wish me patience, persistence, and luck. While I'm not quite as naive as I was three years ago, a lot of rules have also changed since then.
I need an assistant. A photo-editing, pet-sitting, gardening kind of assistant. I don't mind doing dishes. Oh, and if you're a Chinese food chef, that's a HUGE bonus. But... I can't pay. Sloan is willing to give you lots of kisses, though, and Max will let you scratch him.
Paul loves stocks, and manages ours well (as far as I know, which you'll soon learn). A while back, when I got home he said "I bought you Coke today" and I said "Oh, good! We were out and I was craving some." Well, I'm sure you know what kind of "Coke" he bought. Ever since then, though, when he starts talking about how my Coke is doing, I get really, really thirsty.
I had to take Watson (our Element) into the Honda Dealership for a recall repair today. It wasn't anything big, but because he's U.S. spec and they don't even have Elements over here, it always takes a while, so I sat in their waiting area and watched Olympics BMX and Dressage. I didn't know the first was in the Olympics, and I don't think the second should be, since the horse is the real athlete. That said, the GB girl who got bronze did her routine to music from The Lion King, so I am a big fan of hers.
Relatedly, they always wash Watson really well when I take him to the dealership (all for free), which is nice, since he's generally caked in mud. However, when he's all shiny, I can see that some of the smudges I pretended were mud are really scratches, and that sucks. I've got a scrape from when I slid literally sideways, fully stopped, on ice two winters ago, a gash on the other side from where I backed into our electric gate's sticky outy tab earlier this year, and a couple of other scratches probably from having to squeeze up to stone walls on narrow, one-lane but two-way roads. Poor Watson.
Back to the moving bit, we've got to figure out when we're shipping our stuff. It should take about two months to cross the Atlantic, so obviously we're not going to have it there when we get there. So we get to find the delicate balance of borrowing bits and pieces from friends and camping out in houses... on each end. A queen-sized air mattress with two humans, two dogs, and one cat does not stay inflated through the night. That should be in a fortune cookie.
|Max in Swinsty Reservoir tonight|
Come back tomorrow for Farm Delivery Friday- and... A GIVEAWAY!