Wednesday, 13 May 2009

About absolutely nothing at all

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

For the last two days I have had about forty-seven conflicting thoughts in my head, which I have been trying to wrangle into a coherent and stimulating post for you, and I must freely admit that I have failed miserably. Then yesterday people decided they were coming for lunch. I very much like people for lunch, but it is a little complicated on a school day, and I then further complicate matters by deciding that instead of just giving them ham and salad like a normal person, I must make an Italian feast in the manner of a Neopolitan lady on a Saint's day. Five different dishes were presented. Five. What is wrong with me?

All of which is very long way of saying there is no written blog today. But I hate to leave you with nothing for so long, so as way of diversion - here are some pictures of my dogs, sunbathing. This is surely everything which the dyspeptic critics accuse blogging of being: ephemeral, narcissistic, and of really no possibly interest to anyone much. Or: pointless, witless and feckless, and my friend S and I used to chant at each other when we were young. But there, we can't all be pointful and incisive every day. And they are such ravishing creatures. They might not be entirely useful, but they are beautiful, thereby fufilling at least half of William Morris's rule for life.























That is actual Scottish sunshine. It has been going like that all day. Sometimes I have to look twice to believe it is real.

17 comments:

  1. This makes me want to come back as a dog, in Scotland, living in your house....

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  2. She Means Well - I think that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Also making me laugh a lot.

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  3. Actual Scottish sunshine... I wish we had Scottish sunshine - it simply can't be mid-May - and I wish I had your lawn. How have you gotten it so lush. Other half has been scattering grass seed in a benevolent, generous fashion to create a verdant veldt of green, but it's still not like yours. Mind you, it doesn't help that he mows much as he hoovers - in rather random back-and-forth movements, which I'm sure just makes the grass quail back into the soil.

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  4. Jo - can't believe you are so kind about the lawn. It is greening up but still terribly shaggy from being left too long after the winter. Also, there is a very embarrassing dandelion problem. But my niece, who sees good in everything, comes and gathers the dandelions, infuses them in oil, and then uses it to massage sore joints. Apparently it works like a charm.

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  5. How does she do that? dandelions with the yellow heads? Or does she use the sap?

    Once you start to cut, you can never stop. Think about a wild garden. I start to wish we had in the front. Which will never be the same now the gas people dug it up. Sigh. Although they were terribly nice about it.

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  6. I can think of nothing I'd like more than to lie on the grass in the sun and rest my face against the soft sun warmed fur of my lovely black dog. Her utter softness, her faintly dusty smell, her total and utter love of me - and the still aching loss of her - simply overwhelmed me when I saw that same sheen on your dogs' coats.

    Maybe you missed the biggest Love of all in Backwards? 've not got to Grief yet. Perhaps it's in there. Thank you for a cathartic weep and happy memories of my one and only dog love.

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  7. Oh Sarah - now you are making me weep. I am so sorry about your lovely lost girl.

    There are a few dog mentions in Backwards, but I remember having to restrain myself because once I start, there can be no stopping me. I came late to dog love - there were dogs at home when I was little, but they were mostly working dogs and I never had one of my very own. These are my first, and I get quite shy when I think of how much I adore them.

    And you are so right about the smell. Mine smell of dust too, and also leather, oddly, a very clean and pleasing scent, unless they have rolled in otter droppings, which they very occasionally do when I am not looking. Unless that happens, I never wash them; in the summer they bathe in the burn, so they always just smell very much of themselves. Someone did send me some posh animal shampoo once, but I don't like creatures to give off the scent of the salon.

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  8. Jo - she cuts off the heads, and then puts them in a jar with a lot of olive oil, but I think you can use any base oil you like, lets it infuse for two weeks and then strains it. Apparently it really does have some magic ingredient to soothe aches and pains in the poor body.

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  9. I am going to try that. And I'm also trying yout credit crunch body lotion tip in your earlier post - am very bored of spending masses on unguents to no purpose. And i rather like sourcing nice jars.

    Your dogs are lovely. Although - if they are like mine were - why on a hot summers day - with a black coat - do they insist on lying in the sun rather than in the cool shade of the trees? Madness. If I were wrapped in black fur, like some fabulous Russian goddess (I wish!), I wouldn't be bathing my entire panting body in the sun. Or maybe I would, if I looked like them....

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  10. Jo - never know why the Russian goddesses insist on lying in the midday sun. Eventually, when the panting gets too much, they suddenly leap up and hurl themselves under the car, from where they peer out at me as if it is all my fault that they got hot. No telling, as my old mum used to say.

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  11. Now a while ago when you were writing posts about Roxana Saberi and becoming a little concerned that you were being too serious (you weren't btw), I commented that even if you wrote a post about your dogs I would follow it with interest...and see, I'm back just to show you that I'm a woman of my word!! Your dogs are beautiful - more than beautiful in fact and I like the sound of your Italianesque lunch. I shall be round tomorrow to help you finish off the leftovers!!

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  12. Lunch sounded divine, and I'd be quite happy to look at pictures of your beautiful dogs whenever the fancy takes you ...

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  13. Maternal Tales - how lovely and reassuring you are. Should warn you that today's post is serious as hell, but, as you say, I am not going to apologise for that. Tomorrow I'm going to put up some of the recipes from the Italian feast. You know there are times when everything just turns out right? It was one of those. Always so lovely when that happens.

    Moonspinner - I am now your slave for life. Anyone who loves my dogs can do no wrong in my book. This is fabulously irrational, but I can't help it. Although I am not sure you should encourage me: there is a very real danger this entire enterprise might just turn into Dog Blog.

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  14. These are exceedingly happy-faced dogs.
    xx MissW

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  15. Ah Miss W - you know just how to make those of us who live on Dog Island smile. If my dogs are happy, I am happy.

    They do seem to be particularly cheerful at the moment. I think it is spring - lots of rabbits to chase, new smells to sniff, all the sap rising. Although today the sky has gone the colour of iron and a bitter wind has blown up out of the north so we shall all be huddling together for warmth. Not quite Laurel Canyon. xx

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  16. It is rude to point out that I think to you like people 'to' lunch and not 'for' lunch....eek: unless you've run out of things to have with your gorgeous tomato sauce..!

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