tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81289841076119660832024-02-20T22:56:29.688-08:00'And so the story goes...'Welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy reading some of the pieces I've chosen for this site. 'First lines are easy, it's all the other lines that are difficult'... Moliere said something like that. And he knew a thing or two about writing.
Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-35122532340191327062014-01-11T16:05:00.000-08:002014-01-11T16:10:43.642-08:00Hushed Harbour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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hushed harbour <br />
boats stilled on their moorings<br />
grey herons waiting and watching<br />
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the day unfolds...<br />
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<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-86310480284043687092014-01-05T21:04:00.000-08:002014-01-05T21:04:40.588-08:00A book worth talking about - The Luminaries<br />
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The Luminaries </h2>
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by Eleanor Catton<br />
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Winner of the 2013 Booker prize, this book was rated highly in the press.....I wonder how many of the press read it to the end? It's no more than a fairly bog standard, well executed Victorian crime story set in New Zealand. It could have been cut by a third. The pace is excruciatingly slow, being mainly dialogue; Dickensian in manner but without the Dickensian humour and characterization. It is a slight story evolving slowly with much repetition as the many characters, none of whom are drawn well enough to elicit my sympathy, empathy or even protracted interest, put their differing points of view. Was I 'bovvered' about them? Not very much.<br />
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Although Catton deserves praise for her research, this was, at times, a bit overt and the astronomical references were a mystery to me as I found them totally irrelevant. Perhaps I missed something? I did notice the shortening of later chapters (phases of the moon?) as threads were rapidly drawn together. But the effect of this structural device just served to convince me that Catton had begun to panic at the sheer size of the monster she'd created and felt the need to sprint her characters towards what turned out to be an unsatisfying and predictable conclusion.<br />
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I'm from New Zealand so had high hopes that this novel might do much for the image of New Zealand literature abroad. Like the long haul flight to get here, this book requires stamina to go the distance and reach the end, not least because its size makes it difficult to read in bed!Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-33653659216447426882014-01-05T12:59:00.000-08:002014-01-05T12:59:13.354-08:00A book worth talking about - Wine Dogs New Zealand<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wine producers in New Zealand take their wines seriously. They don't, however, take themselves too seriously. In this book of photographs, compiled by award winning NZ photographer Kevin Judd, we meet dogs of all shape, size and age who are lucky enough to live on a vineyard (or winery as they're known here) in God's Own Country.<br />
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Accompanying each portrait, is an irreverent CV detailing individual attributes: naughtiest deed (stealing bungs from full barrels); most unsociable behaviour (passing wind under the tables at an important tasting); and most frequent partner in crime (biggest doggy buddy who often lives across at the neighbouring winery.) There's a lot of chook chasing and stealing of the workers' lunches going on, not to mention the rivalry for status between the winery dogs and the incumbent cats.<br />
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You don't have to be a wine lover to enjoy this small book. You just have to enjoy looking at stunning and painstakingly collected photographs of cheeky, lovable dogs who clearly take the stuffiness out of what is sometimes seen as an elite world. And if you do like to travel the wine trails you won't be up to much reading if you're tasting as you go, so this is an ideal book to take with you as there's not much reading in it. Just lots of pictures and tall tales that will make you want so seek out particular labels because of their dogs as well as their wines.<br />
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PS: And if you prefer Australian wines, well, they do a similar book that covers the Aussie wine producers...(who are not a patch on the Kiwis but their dogs are pretty cool).<br />
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[WINE DOGS The Dogs of New Zealand Wineries by McGill, Elliott & Judd]<br />
<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-71756289619371994142014-01-02T23:14:00.000-08:002014-01-02T23:32:26.474-08:00Catching up with KristalI've been incommunicado for a while due to being between houses and all that that entails: poor internet, living out of boxes, can't find the right clothes to wear etc etc. However, on the fifth attempt to purchase a house (the others having just fallen through) there appeared to be light at the end of the tunnel. But also at the end of the tunnel was Kristal's departure.<br />
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Having endured a phantom pregnancy which delayed her spay operation, Kristal finally moved on. But before she left us her old flame Sparky came to stay for a weekend and they had a great time together.<br />
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Sparky's now 4 years old and Kristal adores him. He was a Guide Dog pup withdrawn from training because he couldn't get his toileting routine to suit requirements. That's come right now, so it's a shame he wasn't used for guide work because he is the most reliable and gentle of dogs.<br />
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They had lots of free runs and games of chase.<br />
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"Last one home's a pussy cat!"<br />
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Now Kristal's gone and she's left a huge empty space in our home and our hearts.<br />
Ulric is already waiting in the wings. Good luck Kristal. Have a happy, happy life.<br />
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<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-58448038006457343942014-01-02T22:01:00.000-08:002014-01-05T13:09:38.172-08:00 Ulric the Great<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Oh yes, he <i>was </i>great! </b> A lovely pup to have. A handsome and well adjusted young adult to hand over for the next phase of his training. Yes, Ulric is starting the new year at the Guide Dogs' centre near London, working with a professional trainer. Coincidentally, two of his brothers are there as well. I wonder if they'll recognize each other. I doubt it.<br />
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We got him by default really....he wasn't supposed to come to us at all.... we were going to have a break due to moving house (which explains my prolonged absence from internet activity).... but because his initial puppy walker had to pull out when he was only 10 weeks old, Ulric became a 'shared' pup and adapted really well to moving between two homes and two part time mums. Not only that, but during his time with me, he had to endure two house moves and a large scale bathroom renovation. He took it all in his stride. Just as he did trains, buses, lifts, shops, crowds and noisy, push-chair-packed coffee shops.<br />
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He had a set of toys and his own bed at each home and he just took a favourite blanket with him each time he moved from one house to the other. This move would be for weeks and months, not just days.<br />
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His 'number 2 mum' and I live fairly close to each other so we were able to ensure that we used the same training methods and commands and, over coffee, we'd discussed our approach to introducing new experiences to him. For example, every week he went to Riding for the Disabled where he was an added attraction for the children. And for himself, he gained an insight into which bits of a horse to stay clear of. He never learnt to stay clear of the horse muck though.... the fresher the better! But nothing that a good dip in the river didn't sort out. (Some critics say that a guide dog's life is all work and no play. Don't you believe it!) <br />
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As a result of being given such a wide range of experiences Ulric's become a very adaptable dog and nothing seems to phase him. (Fingers crossed!)<br />
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It doesn't get any easier to part with the dogs. Ulric was puppy number nine for me. I just hope he has a lovely life with someone who really appreciates him.<br />
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And puppy number ten will be turning up on our doorstep around April time. Watch this space!<br />
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<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-89426186594495121632012-08-22T14:43:00.000-07:002012-08-22T14:44:15.623-07:00It's raining sausages (for Kristal)<br />
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Kristal was out in the garden this morning when suddenly a string of sausages fell from the sky.<br />
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Like a shot, she was on to them, and not about to let them go.<br />
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Obviously, they'd flown over the fence from next door, and, as new neighbours, we ought to do the right thing and return them. Oh, but not yet, eh Mum? First she had a great chase around the garden with one end in her mouth and the rest trailing. In and out of bushes and up and down the driveway. <br />
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Then she settled down to test the flavour. Mmmm. Slight essence of slobber... a hint of yuck... a bit of muck.<br />
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Then they squeaked at her. WHAT? Where did that come from? Not edible after all? Well, you know us Labradors... we'll give anything a go.<br />
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No sooner had I retrieved the sausages before they ended up looking more like mince meat, than a frisbee landed right in front of her nose.<br />
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Oh joy! It's raining toys.<br />
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Finders, keepers!<br />
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Oh come on... you're not going to make me give it back are you?<br />
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<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-77811891334710590622012-08-21T06:33:00.000-07:002012-08-22T14:44:50.655-07:00Kristal Goes Country<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Village life suits Kristal. She's learning to chill. She's become a regular at the village pub and even at the local manor house where we indulge in a posh coffee now and then after our walk across the fields.<br />
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Now 16 months old, she's looking very mature. However, she's had a troublesome couple of months since our move to a temporary home. First she had a phantom pregnancy which went on and on and meant that she couldn't be spayed at the right time. Then, having just recovered from that and all her bits and pieces looking normal again, she developed a large abscess behind her eye which pushed the eyeball forward making her head look weirdly asymmetrical. It was very very painful. She couldn't open her mouth wide or chew her food. Anyway, after a month of antibiotics and having to endure eye drops five times a day, she's now fully recovered.<br />
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Because I gave her a treat each time she had her eye drops she got to the stage where, if I'd forgotten the time, she'd come and nudge me to remind me. She'd then throw herself down on the floor and roll over, presenting her eye to me for treatment. What a little trouper! This could have been a doubly stressful time if she'd decided eye drops were not for her.<br />
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She's made herself at home in our temporary accommodation and loves the fact that this cottage not only has two staircases, but has no doors to several of its rooms. It's a veritable indoor adventure playground and great for hide and seek. The main bedroom is downstairs and it has no door. The kitchen also has no door. First thing in the mornings when I'm making tea, Kristal will stand in the kitchen and gaze through the gap at the prostrate figure that is my husband, still in slumberland. She does this silently. And every time he stirs or snores her tail wags.... but still she makes no sound. She'll keep this silent vigil until he eventually joins the land of the living. Then she's all over him.<br />
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But her favourite place is at the top of the stairs that lead to the room I'm using as a study. She's not supposed to venture upstairs at all, and she knows it, but now it seems as if she's claimed the territory on the landing as her own.<br />
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She's not turned it into a game; it's just as if it's a given that this space is hers.... she's claimed it. From this vantage point she can see who comes and who leaves and assess what's going on in other parts of the cottage. Talk about Big Brother watching you...<br />
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I know she listens in to conversations because if we mention the 'W' word or the 'D' word or the 'L' word, she's down those stairs two at a time.</div>
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Her favourite walk (the 'W' word) is around the perimeter of this field at the back of the garden.<br />
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The hedgerows are home to a variety of wildlife and at harvest time, Kites (the feathered kind), can be seen patrolling the skies.<br />
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When the hay was being harvested, Kites, Kestrels and Magpies just sat around waiting for lunch to emerge from the gradually diminishing ground cover.</div>
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Kristal and I like to come and sit on this seat in a sunny corner of the churchyard. It will soon be time for harvest festivals and when living surrounded by arable farmlands it's brought home to us much more sharply how village life has evolved and changed. At one time the church would have been the focal unifying point for the community, its doors ever open. Now they're locked against intruders. Cottage doors would have stood open so that neighbours could greet each other... face to face rather than on Facebook. The High Street that once boasted a butchers, a bakers and retail outlets to meet all the needs of this rural community, including several pubs, now only supports a hairdressers (something you can't buy over the internet), two pubs and a general store that's hanging on by a wing and a prayer. Today's residents commute to work in bigger towns and shop en route. For those who no longer commute.... well, there's an hourly bus if you're lucky. Whether you like it or not, in rural communities where personal contact used to be the norm, house alarms, electric gates, locks and bolts have replaced open doors and windows (even on stifling summer days) and the internet has become a necessary faceless fact of life. You can't help wondering what some of the long departed residents might have to say about life in their village today. No doubt some would turn in their graves.<br />
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<br />Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-28432188937974080632012-07-16T13:07:00.000-07:002012-07-16T13:09:06.330-07:00Sanctuary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I wish I could say I feel at home in you, but I don't. Not yet. But I'm grateful for the sanctuary you provide while we negotiate the minefield that is house selling and buying in this country. You've sheltered families over 300 years and parts of your structure bear witness to this passage of time. Some of your loft beams are clearly tree branches, still with bark intact. What changes you've seen. What dramas, large and small. You'll be here when I'm long gone. Who will shelter within your walls 30, 50, 100 years from now? I'm pleased to have been part of this continuum. To be your mistress for just a while. To clean your windows and brush your floors and fill your rooms with flowers. I think we'll get along just fine, you and I, despite your wonky plumbing and crazy electrics... your low ceilings and even lower doorways. I'll learn to duck in the right places. We'll look after each other, for just a while.</div>
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-1754014902679664382012-02-15T20:15:00.001-08:002012-02-21T12:21:00.044-08:00Pot of Gold?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RPy9yP-x95LnqnQtfmreBvRFDu5DAeIm0gDNc4rUxW2qCN-c1-qfm4Zhc1ltyge3UvXsBmhAo-lp1QjeD1_jaQEp7LXxMy3NQHkbw_a5a3uIgFdin62LMrN-s7L1ixrfWQx-in6LQCGG/s1600/Rainbow-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RPy9yP-x95LnqnQtfmreBvRFDu5DAeIm0gDNc4rUxW2qCN-c1-qfm4Zhc1ltyge3UvXsBmhAo-lp1QjeD1_jaQEp7LXxMy3NQHkbw_a5a3uIgFdin62LMrN-s7L1ixrfWQx-in6LQCGG/s400/Rainbow-1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
I'm in New Zealand now. Just got out of Heathrow before the snow and ice made things very difficult. I truly hope you all survived... I don't think I would have.<br />
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Here, they've had the wettest summer ever. It's really difficult to keep abreast of climate changes and the extremes of weather that we're having to endure of late. I watch the New Zealand TV weather reports and am amazed that it always seems to be blowing up a storm in the Pacific Islands... Tonga, Samoa, Vanuatu, Cook Islands and others in that group. It seems to be raining there constantly. Not the image we have in mind of tropical island paradise.<br />
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In Auckland yesterday they had waterspouts over the harbour. On land they would have been classified as tornados and might have done a lot of damage. Here on the Coromandel Peninsula we had wonderful rainbows.<br />
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No doubt, like me, you grew up with the tale of the pot of gold being at the end of the rainbow. You can read different interpretations into this. There's no doubt that a rainbow seems to embody a sense of optimism and hope... like a light at the end of a tunnel. I never found a pot of gold, but this rainbow's reflection ends almost at the bottom of my garden. I like to think of this sanctuary of mine as my pot of gold. It's a place I come to to unwind, to re-charge my batteries, to re-connect with friends and family and to kick-start the creative side of my whatever you call the thing that drives you to create and communicate. For all of that, I'm prepared to endure the long journey (and the expense) for as long as I can. And I'm not alone. Our local croquet club here has members who come every year from far flung places; from Aberdeen and Andorra, New York and The New Forest, Hertfordshire, Gloucestershire and Guernsey. They call us Godwits (a bird that makes the return trip Alaska to NZ every year) and they welcome us with open arms... literally. It's a small world really and we all seem to be seeking the same thing. A sanctuary and time to reflect on just what our personal pot of gold holds.Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-43231829773508569002012-01-21T08:59:00.000-08:002012-01-21T09:00:08.820-08:00Last Week with Kristal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrmbzfkymUnNXU3SwYJ7DOoadLG1LmkFdvWOHEsbj_UL8Ui9tBfpFbC8tofa5mNTC_w6oD-A6xAzG5XbQLL0cwJF2u9arxEnmFtlnHYv1Dn6nwD8RvGohjnhhohEWy75mYXUmSUr3ESjn/s1600/With+soft+toy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrmbzfkymUnNXU3SwYJ7DOoadLG1LmkFdvWOHEsbj_UL8Ui9tBfpFbC8tofa5mNTC_w6oD-A6xAzG5XbQLL0cwJF2u9arxEnmFtlnHYv1Dn6nwD8RvGohjnhhohEWy75mYXUmSUr3ESjn/s400/With+soft+toy.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>It's almost upon us. The time we puppy walkers find so distressing. Handing the pup back to Guide Dogs or onwards to another puppy walker. And Kristal's time with us is almost up. She's 9 months old now and will be moving on to another puppy walker with whom I sometimes do a puppy-share. I've had more than my share this time, because my colleague has builders in and puppies LOVE fresh plaster, so Kristal has been with us slightly longer than planned. In that time she's really matured and we can see much more adult behaviour and physique. She squares up beautifully, and when she's on her toes, she's a joy to behold.<br />
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</div><div>This week we do lots of things 'for the last time'. Last favourite walk, last trip to John Lewis, last visit to certain friends, last group training class. Lots of people will call in to say goodbye. Kristal knows the puppy walker she's going to, so there'll be no problem with her settling in. And her best friend Sparky lives there too. (He's the pup in my profile picture... he didn't make the grade, despite being the best I've had at obedience, so was adopted. It was a medical issue he copped out on.)</div><div><br />
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</div><div>I'll be packing Kristal's bags and packing my own too. We always go on holiday when a pup leaves us.... it helps to make the parting more bearable. And I'll get to see her again, so watch this space.<br />
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</div>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-56301546500978293872012-01-03T12:22:00.000-08:002012-01-04T06:04:34.159-08:00Caffe Kristal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Christmas is over and we're easing back into a more regular routine. Part of this routine is to stop off at a certain coffee shop during our in-town training walks. Kristal knows the fastest route from the car park at Waitrose to our usual establishment. Once there, she ensures that the floor beneath our table is cleared of crumbs before settling down for a snooze. In fact, if given the chance, she'll clear the <i>entire </i>floor of crumbs willingly and free of charge. As a potential Guide Dog, she's not supposed to do that, but you try telling that to an eight month old Labrador.<br />
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Guide Dogs often have pups named by firms who have raised the required amount of sponsorship money (currently £5,000). These pups, especially the Labradors, would be very good advertisements for vacuum cleaner manufacturers. Hoover, Miele, Dyson, Bosch would all make very good dogs' names. Come to think of it, Nero would make a good name too. I must drop a hint to the staff the next time we're in. Corporate charity sponsorship is very in vogue at the moment. It provides lots of opportunities for team focussed events and bonding exercises. If anyone is interested, contact <a href="http://www.guidedogs.org.uk/">www.guidedogs.org.uk </a>and follow the links.<br />
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As corporate sponsors you would receive regular information and photographs of 'your' pup and also a visit now and then. A group of flight-side staff at one of the UK's busy airports sponsored a pup and included her in their company public relations video.<br />
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Individuals can also name a pup in memory of a deceased loved one, or for any other reason. Some people invest an enormous amount of fundraising time and effort into this, and name pup after pup. It becomes a challenge.<br />
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Kristal is not a sponsored pup. The spelling of her name is reminiscent of a character from the TV show <i>Dynasty </i>and I can assure you, she has the attitude to match.Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-41832219133025804102012-01-03T08:59:00.000-08:002012-01-03T08:59:03.577-08:00after the storm - AROS 3cold wet thighs<br />
warm chest<br />
wet dog smell<br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-74086910602247548562012-01-03T08:39:00.000-08:002012-01-03T08:39:02.628-08:00Christmas Cards - AROS 2 Jan 2012Christmas cards...<br />
a sentence a year<br />
held dear<br />
because you once featured large in my life<br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-55918517415596401162012-01-01T09:02:00.000-08:002014-01-04T13:00:47.158-08:00The Start - AROS1 Jan 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a dickens of a year ends, thank goodness,<br />
great expectations for the start of a new one<br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-68209955530158588712011-12-31T10:42:00.000-08:002011-12-31T10:54:56.046-08:00Happy New Year2011 is almost over and I can't say I'm sorry. I don't know whether it was the Year of the Pig or not, but it certainly was a pig of a year for me. Too many deaths too close for comfort. Too many changes forced upon me by circumstances outside my control. A house that won't sell and no house on the horizon to buy. Bring on 2012. I really cringe when I say that because the years seem to be flying by and I'd be a fool to wish for time to speed up.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLkSZW7YXJIKHPPr2nBnr6RglsCz5RRbLqEzusgF5ktkdjNY6ua5tfh3PILVAGpemxTf9iMZpvkAiViqqO0it7S3lPoqwFk9SRCJ0reUjOXSDs73vklAIjBETBgDmm-09SyJW4SR0hMW_/s1600/Christmas+clock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLkSZW7YXJIKHPPr2nBnr6RglsCz5RRbLqEzusgF5ktkdjNY6ua5tfh3PILVAGpemxTf9iMZpvkAiViqqO0it7S3lPoqwFk9SRCJ0reUjOXSDs73vklAIjBETBgDmm-09SyJW4SR0hMW_/s400/Christmas+clock.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><i><br />
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<i>Time waits for no man </i>has never sounded truer. And so my New Year's resolution is to deliberately <i style="font-weight: bold;">s l o w d o w n. </i>To make significant moments last longer by taking the time to linger over them rather than rushing on to the next thing. And to linger with people too. I know we live in a fast-paced world, but I want to set aside time for chatting with friends. Yes, <i>chatting.</i> A telephone call rather than a text. A note-card in the post now and then. A conversation on a park bench.<br />
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I'm also participating in the January 2012 <i><b>A River of Stones</b></i> challenge. I did the 2011 one and surprised myself. This event asks you to observe something closely, every day of January, and to write a few words about it in a blog post. The idea is that the written pieces should be short and cut through to the essence of the thing. Small, like river pebbles. I found it quite amazing how this daily task, which initially seemed daunting, became a very positive and soothing thing in my life. Click on the <i>River of Stones </i>badge at the side of this page in order to find out more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p_0uKynLhxuita6ZvTLCKnORhAcTuW5HOG_7zQVTIBuy6Mun-IVQaJV2uGcdRxf0LNp2osgPpZwcl2cZwq9mM6W-iOVHXcPX1Xkh49eDwxhhPhWKpLf6vBYUV8bx_PaS5ukt8h0no8q_/s1600/Kristal+unwrapping+her+present+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3p_0uKynLhxuita6ZvTLCKnORhAcTuW5HOG_7zQVTIBuy6Mun-IVQaJV2uGcdRxf0LNp2osgPpZwcl2cZwq9mM6W-iOVHXcPX1Xkh49eDwxhhPhWKpLf6vBYUV8bx_PaS5ukt8h0no8q_/s400/Kristal+unwrapping+her+present+1.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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Kristal enjoyed her first Christmas and managed NOT to demolish the Christmas tree. Like the good Guide Dog pup that she is, the extra food on view and within reach didn't tempt her. Guide Dog pups don't get to sample human food, so don't look for it. She had her own gifts, mostly edible, and enjoyed tearing the paper off them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFf69uAFVSlnZnboo2JABcrVM_0BWKRZGqvplbfb8XY1aFxzk1yO9QL6F_mlzSiwBfcRnVIS4tLCtDLTNVDCiAzHehXtWh96zalfnwraGSZMF1RI_qxbVzh62A-rdxWmrN0ry7mffSUIcP/s1600/Harpenden+sign+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFf69uAFVSlnZnboo2JABcrVM_0BWKRZGqvplbfb8XY1aFxzk1yO9QL6F_mlzSiwBfcRnVIS4tLCtDLTNVDCiAzHehXtWh96zalfnwraGSZMF1RI_qxbVzh62A-rdxWmrN0ry7mffSUIcP/s400/Harpenden+sign+2.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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A brisk Boxing Day walk was the best part of it all for Kristal. She was fascinated to see so many children<br />
with new scooters, balloons, bits of tinsel in their hair. Our local coffee shop was a-buzz with extended family gatherings and excited children clamouring for the attention of... anyone who would listen. My quiet, calm pup did me proud. She looked a bit shell-shocked. <i>Why doesn't someone get these kids under control? </i> I reckon the staff were thinking along the same lines.<br />
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As the New Year approaches, I wish you all health and happiness and a lot of creative energy!Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-59235934696679066102011-12-19T07:57:00.000-08:002011-12-19T08:01:27.661-08:00Daisy GraduatesSo pleased to hear today that Daisy has <b>qualified</b> as a Guide Dog and is now working in Maidstone, Kent, with a lady who has a child, a Corgi and a cat. So she's part of a family and is much appreciated and loved. That's just great. I'm sure she'll help her owner come to terms with her deteriorating eyesight with greater confidence, and she'll be a lot of fun to live with. Well done Daisy and lots of love to you.<br />
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Kristal, on the other hand, is going through the equivalent of her teens. Questioning commands...'<i>do you</i> <i>really expect me to do that?' ...</i> and throwing her weight around a bit. <br />
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This is her Winston Churchill impersonation. Actually, she's holding the rolled up instructions to a new household gadget. You can see by the look in her eye that she's not going to give them up easily. This is her '<i>what's in it for me?' </i>expression.<br />
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However, she's maturing into a very good looking dog, now eight months old, and showing that she really 'has what it takes'. <br />
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Despite her strong will, when she's out on a training exercise she knows what's expected of her. She has a high energy level and will appreciate being kept on the go, therefore benefiting someone with a busy lifestyle. Her time-keeping is amazingly accurate. You can set your watch by her. She knows what happens when and lets you know about it. She also has a really good memory for routes she's walked previously and can sniff out Cafe Nero even when we're in an unfamiliar town.<br />
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In restaurants and cafes she's very well behaved and settles beneath the table for a snooze. She's quiet and unobtrusive, which is often more than can be said for some of the children we encounter. (However, this morning, she was <i>so</i> quiet and unobtrusive, snoozing beneath the table in a coffee shop, that I didn't notice she'd chewed right through her lead. There was I, standing up to leave, holding a lead with no dog on the end of it.)<br />
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In John Lewis she likes to preen in front of the big mirrors in the fashion department. In the Ladies Toilets, she's suitably coy and just sits quietly in a corner of the cubicle trying to avert her eyes while I struggle with multiple layers of winter clothing, a scarf that threatens to either choke me or dangle where it shouldn't, a shoulder bag looped around my neck, gloves that keep falling out of my pockets, a wonky hat that heads southward when I bend over, and several carrier bags of shopping. When I emerge, red faced and puffed, she is the one who is calm and collected.<br />
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I have high hopes for her.<br />
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</div>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-91208360952814561592011-11-08T01:34:00.000-08:002011-11-08T01:51:55.475-08:00Alien Invasion<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #454545; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"></span><br />
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<dd style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 3px; margin-left: 58px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="description" id="desc_6360288Comment144423" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 35px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="xg_user_generated" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 5px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">Dear Everyone, </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">What have I been doing today? Well, I've been trying to persuade a host of unwanted visitors that they should find alternative lodgings for the winter. In this, I'm referring to the hundreds of Ladybirds (ladybugs) that have taken up residence in the window frame and around the blind thingy in an upstairs bedroom. </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">A TV programme some time ago forewarned of this alien invasion. Evidently these critters are Spanish in origin and almost twice the size of our native British Ladybird. Just as the infiltration of Spanish Bluebells are overpowering our more delicate native variety, so these Spanish bugs are eating our native ones out of house and home. </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;">'<i>Ladybird, Ladybird fly away home</i>...' goes the nursery song we grew up with, but when she gets there, her Spanish cousins have eaten every greenfly in sight.... the cupboard is bare. So what should I do to these creatures? They're difficult to dislodge and persistant in their efforts to return to the snuggled warmth of their bedfellows in the cosy crevices they've found at both ends of a window blind and around the window frame. It's a dilemma, to be sure. For these tiny spotted creatures are part of our childhood folklore and often our first introduction the up-close-and-personal scrutiny of bug life. We're not afraid of them. We love them. We've spent happy days counting their spots. We've sung songs to them and shared with them our concerns for their offspring: '...<i>fly away home, your house is on</i> f<i>ire and your children are alone...</i>' <br />
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I <i>know</i> they're one of the 'goodies' in the garden. They eat their way through tons of greenfly (still not enough in my opinion) but that does not entitle them to house-room for the winter. We just DON'T WANT THEM IN OUR BEDROOMS. Oh they're very well behaved. They don't run around or anything. Apart from poo-ing and discarding bits of legs here and there, you wouldn't know they were in residence. But I'm afraid, somehow, they've just got to go. I can't bring myself to spray them. This might be a job for the vacuum cleaner... oh dear. (cough, splutter!!)</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;"> <a href="http://api.ning.com:80/files/uS9DFs*0fSQ0WzkuCJl7OdFTADfQywgNOJjocX3Ey4f8E2YkL3tw*Bj39ku4N3rU-m37xmkOA*k2TagniGxu6gF*iKMoSMuZ/Hibernatingladybirds.jpg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-color: initial; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #3c78a7; font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_self"><img class="align-full" src="http://api.ning.com:80/files/uS9DFs*0fSQ0WzkuCJl7OdFTADfQywgNOJjocX3Ey4f8E2YkL3tw*Bj39ku4N3rU-m37xmkOA*k2TagniGxu6gF*iKMoSMuZ/Hibernatingladybirds.jpg?width=650" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: both !important; display: block !important; font-size: 1em; height: auto; margin-bottom: 10px !important; margin-left: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px !important; margin-top: 5px !important; max-width: 644px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static !important; vertical-align: baseline;" width="650" /></a><br />
Not decided what to do yet. Watch this space. </div><div><br />
</div></div></div></dd><dd style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 3px; margin-left: 58px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><ul class="actionlinks" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; float: left; font-size: 13px; list-style-image: initial !important; list-style-position: initial !important; list-style-type: none !important; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 15px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 677px;"><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; float: left; font-size: 1em; list-style-image: initial !important; list-style-position: initial !important; list-style-type: none !important; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><form _autoclose="true" _emptydescriptionerrormessage="Please write something for your reply." _firstpage="false" _forcenormalformsubmission="false" _joinprompttext="" _lastpage="true" _maxlength="40000" _open="false" action="http://writingourwayhome.ning.com/forum/comment/create?topicId=6360288%3ATopic%3A130646&parentCommentId=6360288%3AComment%3A144423" enctype="multipart/form-data" id="comment_form_948727434" method="post" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: left; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="xj_stgnfst" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></div></form></li>
</ul></dd>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-86815612122222973982011-10-05T08:58:00.001-07:002011-10-05T11:52:51.389-07:00I prefer brownbest-sellers often let me down<br />
like eating white<br />
instead of brownChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-88169993018115537172011-10-02T15:07:00.000-07:002014-01-05T13:12:02.321-08:00To keep, or not to keep? Thoughts on de-cluttering.Don't you just hate it when you see a bargain and circumstances prevent you from taking advantage of it? Various airlines are offering some good flight deals for long haul departures after Christmas. Normally, I would already have booked by now for our escape-the-winter trip, but we're in the midst of a protracted house buying/selling saga that is dragging on and on, preventing any form of forward planning. We don't do summer hols... we do winter escapes. But it's not working out this year. In fact, I'm looking to experience my first full winter for eight years. HELP! Where did I store all those hand-knitted gloves and scarves my mother made?<br />
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Meanwhile I'm in de-cluttering mode. Husband is not taking this seriously yet. Everything I put into the charity shop pile he picks up and says, 'You're not giving this away are you? I like this.' Oh yeah? He likes it so much that he's not seen it for years because it's been up in the loft or buried in the bottom of a drawer.<br />
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Not normally given to nostalgia, it's amazing how much de-cluttering time is spent reminiscing - re-living the time that <i>this </i>dress or suit (yes, once upon a time I was a 'suit' person) was a favourite. Unwrapping lovingly wrapped odds and ends from years ago only to wonder what it was you <i>ever </i>saw in it. Finding bundles of old letters and cards that just have to be read from start to finish... largely because they're in grown up hand-writing, fashioned with real pen and ink, and so the personality of the writer... just a little bit of that long lost person... remains in the lift and swoop of the letter formations.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUslEHyxLIpJU7SccPy8G899x5mw-LK1pnQpwNkf6n8SIFW8N_ZkC2VoftzZlJCkqLf-WiESOQ83nA4OHbmZXHkMXZnNu8wDFLJZPSdmtc_qURVBcCtEDB2l3K_RmJWt63GSqiLjKY9Ejh/s1600/Stamp+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUslEHyxLIpJU7SccPy8G899x5mw-LK1pnQpwNkf6n8SIFW8N_ZkC2VoftzZlJCkqLf-WiESOQ83nA4OHbmZXHkMXZnNu8wDFLJZPSdmtc_qURVBcCtEDB2l3K_RmJWt63GSqiLjKY9Ejh/s320/Stamp+1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
As a child of the fifties UK to Australasia government assisted migration programme I've always been a compulsive letter writer. Writing to the folks back home was part of colonial life. Letters just for the fun of keeping in touch, but, because of their hand crafted nature and extended length, saying so much more than an email or text. I also had pen-friends in several exotic countries and loved the look and feel of an envelope arriving in my letterbox that had been passed from hand to hand; transported, I imagined, by donkey, ship, aeroplane and bicycle, and bearing that tiny piece of art work in the top right hand corner that had actually been licked by my friend. Mmmm. I could almost smell the dust of India or the spices of Hong Kong when I held the envelopes up to my nose.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmw62Vvp1cUveiZ7-QwGACKoQdlXBRgGbLfhlbG3boDj35WWqNXeAoALjdPNV1hDg9YxYyvj-IpAoVWx8o52EvfS3DfubpKV0x3Doh0NgWNAvn9fpKgxxKfBe7eEZltYe4C7gJORWPuHn/s1600/WS+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmw62Vvp1cUveiZ7-QwGACKoQdlXBRgGbLfhlbG3boDj35WWqNXeAoALjdPNV1hDg9YxYyvj-IpAoVWx8o52EvfS3DfubpKV0x3Doh0NgWNAvn9fpKgxxKfBe7eEZltYe4C7gJORWPuHn/s400/WS+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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When I came to live in England in the swinging sixties I corresponded regularly with my mother back in New Zealand and collected, over many many years, a huge number of stamps off her letters. I still keep them in clear glass ornamental jars.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4nrIjuuGYM-yVJysX1YGnvt0Com1-a4hFID6yAvLwZ6VQPofjWcn2HhWmw0ewugfrBfn2enO5rQZ_X6_n8ifCpRYyFMhj8GiaOo0BnvYyZEjiShHbrSWlPcQ0bwSU4mFlk6dfC_6ukPb/s1600/Stamp+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4nrIjuuGYM-yVJysX1YGnvt0Com1-a4hFID6yAvLwZ6VQPofjWcn2HhWmw0ewugfrBfn2enO5rQZ_X6_n8ifCpRYyFMhj8GiaOo0BnvYyZEjiShHbrSWlPcQ0bwSU4mFlk6dfC_6ukPb/s320/Stamp+4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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New Zealand has always produced exciting pictorial stamps. But what's special about the stamps I collect is that they're taken from the corners of the blue aerogrammes that kept families in touch with each other before the days of emails and skype. And so, on the back of each tiny square or rectangle, there's a snippet of my mother's handwriting.<br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Hope this finds you sunny day today... </b></span></span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b> Dad went to... sorry to hear... </b></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b> You'll never believe...</b></span></span></span></i><br />
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And this brings me to what turned out to be a disastrous spate of de-cluttering over 20 years ago. My sister-in-law had been visiting and pointed out to me that I really ought to de-clutter the end of my kitchen work surface where I keep mail and such like. Pens, telephone, note pads, rubber bands, appointment cards and lots and lots of the blue aerogrammes that arrived, sometimes two or three times a week from my mother. So, with another spate of visitors due, I threw myself into de-cluttering mode, tidied up and threw out lots of letters, perhaps the previous few weeksworth, that had been cluttering up my kitchen. I didn't know that within a few months my mother would no longer be with us. After her death, when I searched the house, I couldn't find any of her letters... such was the extent of my tidying up. So now I only have snippets of her handwriting on the backs of the used stamps.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I spread them out on the carpet and read them one </span></span></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">by one. This brings back vivid images of my mother. I hear her voice and and sense her gestures - the twinkle in her eye or the</span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">worried frown. Now and then an expression of despair, but mostly an assurance that everything was fine, when often I knew it wasn't.</span></span></span></i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>'When in doubt, chuck it out,' </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">we're urged. But hang on a minute... what about giving a thought to that old Yorkshire saying, </span><b>'When in doubt, do now't'. </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> With that in mind I think I'll give the de-cluttering a rest for a while. </span></span></span></span></i></span><br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-25744071739875059672011-10-01T10:51:00.000-07:002011-10-01T11:04:48.548-07:00Seeing Eye - Guiding Light<div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Today I started my day by sitting on the station platform with my Guide Dog puppy, Kristal, watching trains go by and people embarking and disembarking. I'm a puppy walker for Guide Dogs and today is the start of Guide Dogs Week. A celebration of 80 years of providing guide dogs for people in Britain who are blind or partially sighted.</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The idea that dogs could be used, on a large scale, to guide blind people sprang from the experiences of German soldiers trying to locate their blinded comrades in the trench warfare of the First World War, where, like British soldiers, many were blinded by mustard gas. However, there are several much earlier indications and documented evidence of individuals having trained pet dogs as guides going back to the first century AD... in fact there is a depiction of a blind man being guided by a dog in a fresco in Roman Herculaneum. Dogs were being trained to guide blind people at Les Quinze-Vingts hospital for blind people in Paris in 1780. In 1788 Josef Riesinger, a blind seive maker from Vienna, trained his pet dog to guide him so successfully that people doubted he was blind. In 1847, a Swiss man, Jakob Birrer, wrote about his experience of being guided, over a five year period, by a dog he'd trained himself. However, it's from experiences that sprang from mustard gas and the blinding of soldiers in the trenches during World War I that the modern Guide Dog story begins. A German doctor, Gerhard Stalling, treating blinded soldiers at a re-habilitation hospital, observed his own pet dog, untrained and working purely on instinct, clearly guiding a blinded patient. From this, in 1916, sprang the first formal training programme. Soon, there were nine major training centres in Germany providing 600 trained dogs a year for clients in many countries.</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">In 1927, a wealthy American lady, Mrs Dorothy Harrison Eustis, living in Switzerland, heard of the German successes and went to observe their methods, following this up with an article for the Saturday Evening Post magazine (November 1927). Considering that this might be an answer to his prayers, a blind American man, Morris Frank, wrote to Dorothy encouraging her to think of introducing guide dogs to America. Dorothy Eustis saw this as an opening and trained a dog for Mr Frank who journeyed to Switzerland to work with the dog. Training completed, he returned to America with his guide dog, Buddy. The pair were followed by reporters and photographers convinced that an accident was bound to happen... but no, the partnership was a huge success. Frank was reported as saying that the 5 cents he'd spent on purchasing that magazine was worth a million dollars to him. The Seeing Eye organization was launched in America and encouraged two British women, Muriel Crooke and Rosamund Bond to embark upon their own training programme. This was the origin of guide dog training in Britain. In 1931, the first four British dogs completed their training.</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a _mce_href="http://api.ning.com:80/files/XUwyJkiyEQ2idnUda4gQzJZScvcs0hR50cvIf4m0i4QcTHKWyC3SE5C*M0fuxqvy6j70Pk6b0iFChmhQIs7HnIUIsw6Lavfz/Cuasleep.jpg" href="http://api.ning.com:80/files/XUwyJkiyEQ2idnUda4gQzJZScvcs0hR50cvIf4m0i4QcTHKWyC3SE5C*M0fuxqvy6j70Pk6b0iFChmhQIs7HnIUIsw6Lavfz/Cuasleep.jpg" target="_self"><img _mce_src="http://api.ning.com:80/files/XUwyJkiyEQ2idnUda4gQzJZScvcs0hR50cvIf4m0i4QcTHKWyC3SE5C*M0fuxqvy6j70Pk6b0iFChmhQIs7HnIUIsw6Lavfz/Cuasleep.jpg?width=350" class="align-left" src="http://api.ning.com:80/files/XUwyJkiyEQ2idnUda4gQzJZScvcs0hR50cvIf4m0i4QcTHKWyC3SE5C*M0fuxqvy6j70Pk6b0iFChmhQIs7HnIUIsw6Lavfz/Cuasleep.jpg?width=350" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline !important; float: left !important; margin-bottom: 10px !important; margin-left: 0px !important; margin-right: 25px !important; margin-top: 5px !important;" width="350" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now, 80 years later, the Guide Dogs Association produces about 1,300 puppies a year. They have just over 5000 working guide dogs. Many more are required. There are over a million people in Great Britain registered blind or partially sighted and of these, over 250,000 would benefit from a guide dog partnership. However, Guide Dogs is a charity and receives no government funding so can only produce the number of working dogs it can support. (Support being in the form of breeding, training, veterinary costs, feeding, equipment etc.) Under the guidance of the 900 or so staff, Guide Dogs is supported by over 11,000 volunteers who take on a wide range of roles such as fundraising, puppy walking, assisting kennel staff, speaking at functions, driving dogs from one end of the country to the other and many more. </div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Although training dogs is Guide Dogs main role, many people will be unaware that the organization also contributes a large amount of its funds towards research into eye disease and it is second only to the RNIB as providers of mobility and independence training for blind and partially sighted people with or without a dog.</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You never know when you might need the services of an organization like Guide Dogs. We're told we can expect to live longer these days. The problem is that our bits and pieces are wearing out at different rates... </div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">That said... I think it's walkies time!</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a _mce_href="http://api.ning.com:80/files/Y9OOMeWAdsRyDcfLSoZjka*bC*iEn2e739xMbTrbf5mAXQAdMsqyje1wl8qVBUaishojO*4VHIVRTZiPzBqpJbJ36ygSxoxN/Smalldogbigfield..jpg" href="http://api.ning.com:80/files/Y9OOMeWAdsRyDcfLSoZjka*bC*iEn2e739xMbTrbf5mAXQAdMsqyje1wl8qVBUaishojO*4VHIVRTZiPzBqpJbJ36ygSxoxN/Smalldogbigfield..jpg" target="_self"><img _mce_src="http://api.ning.com:80/files/Y9OOMeWAdsRyDcfLSoZjka*bC*iEn2e739xMbTrbf5mAXQAdMsqyje1wl8qVBUaishojO*4VHIVRTZiPzBqpJbJ36ygSxoxN/Smalldogbigfield..jpg?width=450" class="align-center" src="http://api.ning.com:80/files/Y9OOMeWAdsRyDcfLSoZjka*bC*iEn2e739xMbTrbf5mAXQAdMsqyje1wl8qVBUaishojO*4VHIVRTZiPzBqpJbJ36ygSxoxN/Smalldogbigfield..jpg?width=450" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: both !important; display: block !important; margin-bottom: 10px !important; margin-left: auto !important; margin-right: auto !important; margin-top: 5px !important;" width="450" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0.4em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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For further information: <a href="http://www.guidedogs.org.uk/">www.guidedogs.org.uk </a><br />
</div>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-63739905587708055372011-09-16T13:32:00.000-07:002011-09-16T13:57:43.049-07:00A Good Day to DieHearing that someone you love is about to die is never easy. It's even more difficult when you're 12,000 miles away and can't get there to say goodbye. There's an overwhelming desire to just <i>see </i>that person one more time. You cast your mind back to when you <i>last</i> saw them. What did you talk about? Was there laughter? Laughter's good. Did you leave on good terms? Did you wave? A wave is treasured.<br />
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Nellie is my aunt. A very close aunt, despite the fact that we live 12,000 miles apart for much of the year. She has no children of her own but lots of nephews and nieces whom she always spoilt rotten when we were little. She's just coming up to her 90th birthday, but I don't think she's going to make it. Last night I received a phone call from my cousin to say that the doctors thought Nellie might only have 24 hours left. They were just going to make her comfortable. Nellie is frightened of dying. I know she is. And especially of dying alone. She's not very good with pain either. I need to tell them this. I need them to know that she won't like it if they close the curtains. That she'll like the television on, even if the sound is off. And she likes her hair brushed... get someone to do that for her. Hold her hand. And let her keep her teeth in, because she hates to be seen without them. She'll want to look presentable. She was always very clothes conscious. And remember, hold her hand.<br />
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All my cousins will be with her. She won't be alone, I'm sure. But I should be there. Instead I'm here, 12,000 miles from where I'm needed. I should be the one holding her hand. I'm the oldest niece. I was four when I went to her wedding. She was the aunt who was always laughing. And nothing made her happier than to be surrounded by nieces and nephews. She loved us all.<br />
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So now I'm just waiting for another phone call. I can't do anything else from this distance. I'm hoping she'll just drift away... isn't that what we all want? I hope the sun will shine; that she'll gaze out of the window at the clouds floating by and think to herself, yes... this is a good day to die. But I know from experience that it doesn't always work out that way. So now I'm just sitting. Looking at old photographs, remembering happy times. And waiting for the phone call...<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-4496887322886980042011-09-05T14:11:00.000-07:002011-09-05T14:39:58.146-07:00Push-Me-Pull-YouOut walking at the weekend I came across a... well, would you believe it... a Push-Me-Pull-You. There it was, as plain as day, doing much the same as I was, if the truth be known. Just taking advantage of what might well turn out to be the last summery weekend we see this year. It sat there, minding its own business, soaking up the sun, not knowing quite which way to look under such close scrutiny.<br />
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Kristal didn't know what to make of it. Which head should she address? Which way would it run if she dared to spook it? One small pup could cause havoc in a paddock of Push-Me's if given the chance, so we moved on to bother some badgers. Well, they would have been bothered if they'd been home. Evidence suggested that they'd recently been evicted.<br />
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Up in the field, the crop had been harvested and so we were able to stand in the midst of nothingness and soak up the sense of S P A C E . Kristal didn't know which way to run first.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbRF_0GB5_LH0w5OVcTqYx1JP8jbI5syZ3Iq7KZ2TcmEk3DoEoQdBUW3tBBaEPe8QT0q0APN_kv4NvulhZLgx6QaLqekD-4R1gIgDl9cdza7Z8LXvEJNnYJGIXr3lCzMQLa0cNzQs8e5Rr/s1600/Small+dog%252C+big+field..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbRF_0GB5_LH0w5OVcTqYx1JP8jbI5syZ3Iq7KZ2TcmEk3DoEoQdBUW3tBBaEPe8QT0q0APN_kv4NvulhZLgx6QaLqekD-4R1gIgDl9cdza7Z8LXvEJNnYJGIXr3lCzMQLa0cNzQs8e5Rr/s400/Small+dog%252C+big+field..jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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She had a lovely time charging up and down the tracks made by the huge harvester and leaping over the stubble. Whenever I'm in a field like this I'm reminded of the harvesting episodes in Tess of the d'Urbervilles - the back-breaking work; the long hours. And I think of the many paintings of villagers gleaning what they can from the fields once harvest is over. I bend down to assess just how much useful grain I might be able to salvage... and then I wonder what I'd have to do to it before it was any use to me... and how long would that take me? Yes, there <i>is</i> something to be said for progress... I'm so glad I can just pop down to Waitrose.<br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-16701394028490922672011-09-03T07:25:00.000-07:002011-09-19T09:45:52.563-07:00Does my bum look big in this?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQgkNDwH9URpCrcW4ggWnexDuclrPbGJUeWhmBYBr1KTo-ss3K5pSt_0kS33okQ11a0FhUoNs8zg23j0Oke-YhRs7F1ZEo9NymtA0UgZ-zkz7kpeuntcG_OmiOD14xe6_I6o8n_VW3g3q/s1600/Alert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQgkNDwH9URpCrcW4ggWnexDuclrPbGJUeWhmBYBr1KTo-ss3K5pSt_0kS33okQ11a0FhUoNs8zg23j0Oke-YhRs7F1ZEo9NymtA0UgZ-zkz7kpeuntcG_OmiOD14xe6_I6o8n_VW3g3q/s400/Alert.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Go on, tell me.... does my bum look big in this?<br />
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Don't you just love a dog in uniform? Kristal has her blue and gold Guide Dogs jacket now. I had to shorten it by an inch all along the back to hoist it up a bit. Reminded me of my mother putting HUGE hems on my gymslip and saying, 'Don't worry, you'll grow into it.' I was always conscious of that deep hem. It seemed to signify a particular socio-economic bracket wherein you <i>have to make things last. </i>This trait has stayed with me. I never throw away a garment made from good fabric because one day I'll re-style it into something more up to date. Consequently, I have a wardrobe full of clothes awaiting renovation and can't find anything that's fit to go.<br />
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The jackets the pups wear help to identify them to shop owners and the public. They don't guarantee us entry into places.... that's at the discretion of the owner or manager as only fully qualified Assistance Dogs are <i>legally</i> allowed to enter areas otherwise closed to dogs. We've rarely ever been been refused entry. Most people recognize this important aspect of the training but, occasionally, we have to fight our corner and sometimes accept defeat, despite our best PR efforts. The jackets help to identify the pup as a <i>working</i> dog in training and the public generally know not to disturb the pup. When I give talks in schools I emphasise the point that when the dog is wearing a jacket it's working or training.... the children catch on to this quickly. I liken it to their school uniform. When they're in uniform, they're in learning mode. I sometimes hear children in the street explaining to their mums... 'no, Mummy, it's wearing a jacket so you're not supposed to disturb it.'<br />
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Jackets go through various design stages and are constantly being assessed. Some pups don't like anything passed over their heads. Some, especially those with curly hair, sometimes find that the jacket tickles them. Some fabrics or fasteners irritate. If a pup is unhappy wearing a jacket it doesn't bode well for its future when asked to wear a harness, so we have to handle this stage sensitively.<br />
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Kristal is now four and a bit months old and showing definite signs of her ability to anticipate and grasp what is required of her in certain situations. When she sees me putting on lipstick or combing my hair... she knows I'm off out somewhere and she definitely wants to be included. The other day I'd put on my lippy and popped upstairs to get something. When I returned, she was sitting on the doormat with <i>my shoe</i> in readiness and <i>her lead </i>in her mouth! Admirable, except for the fact that both these items had been up on the kitchen worktop, supposedly well out of her reach.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrH6wX_McsuoREPa3fRaYGzK1Ox41dy5iowk1-8AoYf3Nd1-jQiZ9loiNmn2eAMVBgRSt07eYWmECeBnNt7V3UVzhQBy-hzjrmJCyZMWl1OJiHwJkB81hQB8mmd8iIhpJUYxcwPOd78lB_/s1600/Free+run+at+hurdle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrH6wX_McsuoREPa3fRaYGzK1Ox41dy5iowk1-8AoYf3Nd1-jQiZ9loiNmn2eAMVBgRSt07eYWmECeBnNt7V3UVzhQBy-hzjrmJCyZMWl1OJiHwJkB81hQB8mmd8iIhpJUYxcwPOd78lB_/s400/Free+run+at+hurdle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Come on.... I'm waiting for you!</div><br />
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We're free running now and Kristal loves it. I take a whistle with me and every now and then practise the <i>RECALL. </i>She's very good. Soon I'll have to free run her in places where there are more distractions. That's always a testing time. I try to stay relaxed, but usually I'm on pins, hoping whichever dog I've got is not going to embarrass me or make me run a mile in order to catch up.<br />
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On free runs, Kristal supplements her diet with rabbit droppings which look exactly like her Royal Canin kibble. Probably taste the same as well. So far she's not been tempted by horse poo, but that will come. It always does. When out walking a bridle track, if I see a pile of horse poo ahead, it turns into a bit of a race between me and the dog to get to it first. Shouting 'LEAVE IT', from a distance, has no effect at all. I wish horse riders would give a thought to the mess they leave behind along country roads. I appreciate it's not likely they're ever going to be persuaded to carry poo-bags as dog walkers do, but they could be a little more considerate about where they allow the horse to drop it, surely.<br />
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We've not had many sunny days this summer, but now that Kristal is bigger it's a real pleasure taking her on a longer walk. Not too far, because young dogs have tender bones and joints and damage can be done by over-doing exercise. But she enjoys a walk in the park or cross-country, and chilling out is essential when so much of her training takes place in the busy High Street or station or in shops surrounded by lots of people.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSYQgxkK1-NXu9MuFlAvZYYtilYAdrfnzP7jhSakdkDIKJ-vFHb5FWJky-9NHhrEPg6vBZ9KY1EYvf0IVf46035iMPKyDI8_B3uSluBbDHPBy4xbq8pWW-8bOZN_NVyIut_SL4m55aJQJ/s1600/A-walk-in-the-park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSYQgxkK1-NXu9MuFlAvZYYtilYAdrfnzP7jhSakdkDIKJ-vFHb5FWJky-9NHhrEPg6vBZ9KY1EYvf0IVf46035iMPKyDI8_B3uSluBbDHPBy4xbq8pWW-8bOZN_NVyIut_SL4m55aJQJ/s400/A-walk-in-the-park.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Chilling out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is one of the perks of puppy walking. A walk in the sunshine with a young dog who is beginning to respond well - who enjoys being with you just as much as you enjoy being with her. This is the essential basis of the teamwork that will be required for her future role.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div> Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-47751808255346684612011-08-16T06:45:00.000-07:002011-08-17T08:45:19.723-07:00A Sequence of Events.Kristal is now 17 weeks old and asserting herself in many directions... most of which incur a reprimand of one sort or another. She is, however, occasionally demonstrating an acute memory for places (she knows all the local coffee shops) and the names of several toys and will now SIT, STAY, WAIT, DOWN and LEAVE. All of this assumes you've got her to COME in the first place, and this is the stumbling block. Oh, she <i>will</i> come, but in her own good time. And when she does, she flies at you and almost bowls you over.<br />
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She's very distracted by creatures beneath the surface of the lawn which she just has to dig her way to. She's also developed a taste for apples and pears that fall from the trees in various stages of decomposition. Her insides must be cast iron because she shows no ill effects from scoffing all manner of unsavoury looking debris. A close inspection of her surprisingly well-formed stools indicates that a small pebble or two (horror of horrors), various parts of my kitchen chair (wood and cane), plastic plant pots in assorted colours, plumage from a medley of birds, remnants of plastic labels... all pass through unhindered. Well, she <i>is</i> a Labrador. I'm hoping that once her new teeth arrive she will become more selective.<br />
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I've been buying her a really hard shin bone from the pet shop and when we go to a coffee shop she will sit happily under the table chewing on this bone until the debris from the next table catches her eye. These bones are not cheap and inadvertently we've left several under the tables at various coffee shops around town as we gather up our medley of toys, leads, jackets, dog bowl, water bottle etc to leave. I just haven't got the nerve to go around asking if I can have my bone back, please.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilR9bZoM951HqbFKukLC9JqU4arb7sckhHsT12dJeenyiy6X63WjYGpeLF7iuDDlZHHuTGjDzGvwOoC3x8ULrk5P1RoPb5Dgg4YrHG2L6ClYzUK7W2GNNnCV1n5aWWwEeSzrA6ZdUCmvee/s1600/Garden-assistant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilR9bZoM951HqbFKukLC9JqU4arb7sckhHsT12dJeenyiy6X63WjYGpeLF7iuDDlZHHuTGjDzGvwOoC3x8ULrk5P1RoPb5Dgg4YrHG2L6ClYzUK7W2GNNnCV1n5aWWwEeSzrA6ZdUCmvee/s400/Garden-assistant.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Working dog at work.<br />
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Gardening is one of Kristal's favourite activities. Seeing me dig is a license for her to dig. I have to choose plants that will survive an increasingly heavy footfall. She loves it when I rake up a pile of cuttings and leaves ready for picking up... it's an invitation to dive on top of the pile and scatter them everywhere.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFgeUoQW51L_sU2uMrxV9_EobOnNe1Xfax0a4GIRN1Al8Xygl_3za5NWV7Oc07v3vXtNtWdxgBAYeGAgUnMWx-qO_rsMo6p9kBocLWp69kmYyIJdAUN0hTczKGNCxQsVDEM3LLw5crzgz/s1600/In-wheelbarrow-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFgeUoQW51L_sU2uMrxV9_EobOnNe1Xfax0a4GIRN1Al8Xygl_3za5NWV7Oc07v3vXtNtWdxgBAYeGAgUnMWx-qO_rsMo6p9kBocLWp69kmYyIJdAUN0hTczKGNCxQsVDEM3LLw5crzgz/s400/In-wheelbarrow-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> There was no mention of this in my job description!<br />
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Her leadwork is coming along well. She will STEADY when I ask her to, slowing her pace to match mine. But she's just too friendly with passersby. She thinks everyone coming towards us is coming especially to greet <i>her. </i>I have to work on this because as she gets bigger it will be less 'cute' for those being greeted. 28kg of Labrador hurling herself at you is not fun. But trying to persuade the general public that they really will be doing Kristal a big training favour if they just ignore her is proving to be difficult.<br />
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Last week Kristal set in motion a sequence of events that was both scary and costly. In a rare quiet moment, when we should have been alerted to the possibility of something untoward happening, but in all honesty we were so grateful for the fact that she was occupying herself without demanding our interaction, she discovered a sliver of wallpaper projecting from the wall and proceeded to see where it would end if she pulled on it. Well, it ended with us having to re-decorate, and that ended with a visit to hospital. Read on...<br />
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Due to Kristal's innate curiosity, we spent three whole days painting a room, having emptied it of bookshelves, books and furniture beforehand. The last thing to be completed was the ceiling, which much coerced husband spent an entire day painting. At 5pm that day we went to John Lewis to buy some new cushions. On our return home we replaced the bookshelves and books and other pieces of furniture. Happy-to-see-the-end-of-the-job husband went into his office to do something on the computer.... e-Bay I think it was. When he emerged a few minutes later he asked, 'Why is all this stuff all over the place?' I replied to the effect that I had not yet got around to replacing everything in the room we'd painted. He asked, 'What room?' Somewhat irritated I responded, 'The room we've just spent three days painting.' He went into the newly painted room and looked around completely gob-smacked. 'What... you're saying that <i>I </i>painted this room?'<br />
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To cut a long story short, he'd completely lost all memory of the three days of painting and the subsequent visit to John Lewis to buy cushions. There was no physical change in him and he could recall names, places and distant events so I was not really considering that he'd had a mini-stroke, although I <i>was </i>looking out for the crucial F.A.S.T. signs (face, arms, speech, time). He was just confused and kept asking the same questions over and over. 'Did I paint this?' And, 'Have we eaten yet?' After we'd eaten he could not remember what we'd eaten. I questioned and questioned him to try to drag memory back. Knowing how much he hates decorating, I thought he was kidding me, and he thought I was kidding him. When we both realized that neither of us was kidding it became a bit scary. By now it was late and we were considering bed. Next morning, he could recall everything perfectly <i>but could not remember the experience of forgetting.</i><br />
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A trip to the GP resulted in an appointment with a specialist. But meanwhile I'd been on the internet and come up with TRANSIENT GLOBAL AMNESIA. The description given matched somewhat-relieved husband's experience exactly. Nothing to do with strokes. Not dangerous. No medication required. May or may not happen again. Often caused by excessive exertion (sex and swimming in cold water were prime examples given), usually affects people in the 50 to 70 age range.<br />
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Subsequently the specialist confirmed this diagnosis. He had had a case the day before of a man and wife who were moving house and the furniture was all in the van. The man went back into the house and re-appeared in shock stating that they'd been burgled. He could not remember the fact that they were moving or the packing up process.<br />
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So, Kristal's wall-paper stripping sparked a series of events that took us on an emotional roller-coaster. Had we not painted the room, would this have happened? Who knows. Did having his head bent backwards painting the ceiling have any effect on blood flow? The specialist was not convinced of this. So, much to husband's disappointment, he <i>is not </i>let off future painting and decorating chores.<br />
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What a strange organ the brain is, and how little we know about it. Wikipedia has a good description of TRANSIENT GLOBAL AMNESIA if you are interested, and there are several case studies retrievable via Google. One of the main features is that, once normal memory has returned, the person affected has no memory of what was said or done during the few hours that this experience lasts. That means, and the specialist confirmed this, that all cases are reported via a second person. If there is no other person present, the victim/patient may be totally unaware that anything untoward has happened. Which begs the question.... so what if a crime is committed during this period?<br />
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Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8128984107611966083.post-76853910882996982302011-07-04T02:35:00.000-07:002011-07-04T05:47:16.631-07:00Kristal & Marmite<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xnckqNKgYZnqdb2MgssODw_EaPeKNELmbqTAzFdbV1Niss-bCx1yg3bhx0wTWYaK2oKZxM0zKRTF_IJx9_bP45B8tSJIQV77nyPA-g3ycoq3rrx_3Blg79-W3wAJ24_oSQV9rhZg63FZ/s1600/Portrait-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xnckqNKgYZnqdb2MgssODw_EaPeKNELmbqTAzFdbV1Niss-bCx1yg3bhx0wTWYaK2oKZxM0zKRTF_IJx9_bP45B8tSJIQV77nyPA-g3ycoq3rrx_3Blg79-W3wAJ24_oSQV9rhZg63FZ/s400/Portrait-1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Marmite. You love it or hate it, so they tell us. And Kristal loves it. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Now 11 weeks old, she's just starting to challenge my authority... a bit early for the teenage stuff. I call her indoors and she will sit down at the far end of the lawn looking me directly in the eye... what's in it for me? she's thinking. Well, what's in it for her is a <em>slight</em> smear of Marmite on my finger as a training treat. She loves the stuff. She has her own jar so that I don't find myself double dipping. Yuk! Not too much... just enough so that she thinks she's had something. </div><br />
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Small pups can sometimes choke on a solid treat if they run up to you excited and panting. It goes down the wrong way and can be fatal. Never give a pup a treat when it's excited or panting. And don't allow it to grab at food. Hold onto the training treat until the pup is composed and calm. Ensure that your pup learns good manners. WAIT is a really useful command for many situations.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In addition to Marmite, Kristal has discovered cobwebs. Yes, she loves them. Licks them up like candy-floss. Someone said cobwebs are made from a protein... must be some flavour in it I guess. It's not something I encourage, but hey, it's difficult to find staff these days.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc__FlEtYUA_Pv2e51t-eN9u1gfIdz4QrkvHRMbCZy6pmaQeDuCmdN79jD8Ki7yTnl7Nf8Zw_tx7YdQw1Ua3xi2MCLgYe4uL-7vUonYrhpx0iVWUcjy7YhLTgIW0wtPs09BntqeDua1KbN/s1600/At-camera-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc__FlEtYUA_Pv2e51t-eN9u1gfIdz4QrkvHRMbCZy6pmaQeDuCmdN79jD8Ki7yTnl7Nf8Zw_tx7YdQw1Ua3xi2MCLgYe4uL-7vUonYrhpx0iVWUcjy7YhLTgIW0wtPs09BntqeDua1KbN/s400/At-camera-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I know I'm a working dog but gimme a break!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0F83vtKXZGPwDBPDW967KjTuLZedDGBgH_bklwEbCCGhAbQDUbng5BcMVwCF8KIlGyXktlYIeDGMooTGjbmH9gZTOab8GIM3c6vEKTdTUH9QwikkVTdZilqHS2_5R51Fzn9pBhKEcE_W/s1600/Lead+and+flash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0F83vtKXZGPwDBPDW967KjTuLZedDGBgH_bklwEbCCGhAbQDUbng5BcMVwCF8KIlGyXktlYIeDGMooTGjbmH9gZTOab8GIM3c6vEKTdTUH9QwikkVTdZilqHS2_5R51Fzn9pBhKEcE_W/s320/Lead+and+flash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Leadwork is coming along well. She's a bit bouncy and wants to run rather than walk, but she's listening to my voice and is starting to STEADY when I use this command and also to WAIT when I pause. When she lunges forward too much I make her stop and calm down before we proceed. Stroking the shoulder is very calming. Eventually she'll learn that if she doesn't walk in a steady manner she's not going to get very far. This is important with a big dog breed because pups don't stay small for long. And once they've put on some muscle you can be in trouble if you haven't already established some discipline by voice. Leadwork takes time and you sometimes have to get out there just as a lesson rather than a walk.... because you know you're not going to get very far. You'll be stopping and starting over and over until the message gets through. Short 10 minute lessons to start with. It's worth putting in this time and effort very early on before going for a walk becomes a test of strength. A dog constantly straining against its collar will not be having much fun, and nor will you.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Keeping Kristal cool hasn't been much of a challenge because, let's face it, the summer has not really arrived yet. But when it <em>is </em>hot it's important to keep pups cool. Forego the trip to town. Hot pavements are very close to a small pup's tummy and so feel even hotter. Kristal discovered she liked to paddle in the washing up bowl. Next stop the River Lea, although in general, Guide Dogs are discouraged from becoming water dogs. It would be very inconvenient for a blind person if their dog jumped in the pond in the park during lunch break from the office! For the same reason, we have to discourage a dog from becoming obsessive about balls. Balls are a no, no for Guide Dog pups. They're just too tempting. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRTfFRF37lEg5ixb1Wbq-1sl8zZIdat5IzjR84kbqYzsaLP_IUg176srLEfAztq1v8WmxglGx9sRYchCzECPUQfLuiL5g6uiwqJ6YQDIS085vKKeo7tPe_M0Dt4rg6a58t7Z71XezA0aA/s1600/With+bowl+of+water+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRTfFRF37lEg5ixb1Wbq-1sl8zZIdat5IzjR84kbqYzsaLP_IUg176srLEfAztq1v8WmxglGx9sRYchCzECPUQfLuiL5g6uiwqJ6YQDIS085vKKeo7tPe_M0Dt4rg6a58t7Z71XezA0aA/s400/With+bowl+of+water+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-1PY4dO52uc6mEWroPtjxZX49g3R8YVvtvajSEicUQL7nTFBhl4qXxKyhRV31jwrISZNoJjp2CqzIB1BjT_ycqPOg8zQpRyjCzkngg3WycaRmbyP8Db2szQzSvX24M-9rjQ80JKVtt7i/s1600/With+bowl+of+water+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-1PY4dO52uc6mEWroPtjxZX49g3R8YVvtvajSEicUQL7nTFBhl4qXxKyhRV31jwrISZNoJjp2CqzIB1BjT_ycqPOg8zQpRyjCzkngg3WycaRmbyP8Db2szQzSvX24M-9rjQ80JKVtt7i/s400/With+bowl+of+water+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I heard some Guide Dog pups get to live with people who have a swimming pool!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Kristal had coffee with Kenna, her sister, once again. And they'll probably meet up this weekend too. They're both growing fast. It will be interesting to see whether they remain so physically alike as they mature. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EuJzJL20hk7D-PFOmTedX1AA2PpRCECqExunoTC_CJ0nnLlyLKVDrkR4B5OCrsVmHc0YL3uQahGdPvLsK_1nDomChykMu8fmCbP5BAg0IXhOzdaaGtT7oeZPXDTU0Zuqm3pBym5S23Jj/s1600/And+Kenna+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EuJzJL20hk7D-PFOmTedX1AA2PpRCECqExunoTC_CJ0nnLlyLKVDrkR4B5OCrsVmHc0YL3uQahGdPvLsK_1nDomChykMu8fmCbP5BAg0IXhOzdaaGtT7oeZPXDTU0Zuqm3pBym5S23Jj/s400/And+Kenna+5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now, don't ask me which one is which!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Christinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06847263290229821059noreply@blogger.com6