Boundaries Bring Freedom
Wales is a hiker's paradise, with meandering paths that often lead through sprawling sheep pastures. These wide, open spaces are Tess's absolute delight. Her little legs stretch to their full capacity as she bounds through the lush green fields, her nose twitching with excitement at each new scent.
However, I've noticed something curious about her behavior. When we walk in areas with no clear boundaries, like pastures with broken fences or open access to the road, Tess becomes my shadow. She practically glues herself to my ankles, occasionally glancing up as if to say, "Just making sure you're still there, Mum." Her anxiety is palpable as she trots along, refusing to stray more than a few feet away.
The transformation occurs when we enter well-fenced pastures. Once Tess sees those secure boundaries in place, she becomes a different dog altogether.
Fireworks Fright!
Last night, our neighbors decided to set off fireworks. It wasn't a holiday or celebration. They simply wanted to enjoy the colorful display. While their desire for entertainment was understandable, poor Tess was absolutely terrified. When I say terrified, I mean she vibrates so intensely that I genuinely fear she might shake apart into a million tiny pieces.
We were in the middle of dinner, with Tess strategically positioned nearby to catch any falling crumbs or tasty morsels. At the first loud bang, I gasped in surprise, and before I could blink, she bolted through the doggie door. By the time Jason and I slipped on our shoes and rushed outside, she had completely vanished. The only evidence of her desperate escape was a small, freshly dug hole beneath the front corner of the fence in the side yard, the spot farthest from the fireworks.
Are You Forgetting the Main Thing?
Jason's bowls tournament was approaching quickly, and my kitchen had transformed into what resembled a professional bakery. Every surface was dusted with flour, mixing bowls were stacked in the sink, and the sweet smell of baking filled our cottage. My husband had volunteered to handle all the refreshments for the event, bless him, which meant he had been baking all day. (By the way, he's a VERY good cook!)
I was in my office, fingers flying across the keyboard as I worked on my latest book, when I heard a groan from the kitchen that could only mean disaster.
"Oh, for crying out loud!"
The frustration in Jason's voice pulled me from my writing zone. I found him staring at a tray of unbaked scones, his flour-covered hands on his hips.
"What's wrong?"
He pointed at the offending dough. "I forgot the cheese."
Wings of Courage
I woke up to birds chirping outside my window this morning, nature's not-so-subtle hint that the feeders were empty again. After bundling up against the Welsh morning chill, I headed out to the driveway with my humongous cup of birdseed.
I scattered handfuls across what I jokingly call the "neighborhood bird café," which is just a little spot under our hedgerow. Job done, I scurried back inside to watch the show from my office window. What happened next made me laugh out loud.
The local feathered residents had definitely spotted my offering. They lined up along the top of the hedge like they were waiting for a bus! Finches, sparrows, and a couple of cheeky robins all stared down at the seed buffet, heads tilted, not a single one making a move.
Seriously, not one bird budged.
Holding Onto Hope During Life’s Drizzles
Oh, the weather in Wales can be as unpredictable as my fibromyalgia! For the month of October, we are dog-sitting for some friends, which means there are two dogs underfoot, two dogs to feed, two dogs to walk, and two doggie schedules to work around. Well, today, Jason is working at the Community Luncheon Club, which leaves me on dog duty for the day. I had resigned to the fact that I was not likely going to get much accomplished, but I was leery about how and when to do our daily walk. That brings me to the Welsh weather.
The entire morning has been drizzly, so I knew it would likely be a wet walk. Still, I was hopeful.