Moving onwards and upwards – well some of us are.

What an absolutely brilliant day Monday was. It was one of those days that stays in your memory forever. A rare, happy go lucky, relax and enjoy day.

Just like the when the stars come into line, all the events worked out and I found myself in the happy position of playing host to all three grandchildren. Happy day indeed, especially as they were all in a good mood and in high spirits. As the sun was shining and the day was neither too hot nor too cold, neither too windy nor too still, we decided to take the dog for a walk up a nearish by big hill. The clingons thought that was a real adventure so we packed supplies to keep them going on the arduous journey. Cartons of juice and sweeties, what more does an adventurer need to keep their strength and spirits up?

Douggie the doggie came along as well and decided that he wanted to be a real golden golden retriever instead of his usual white so he found a ditch full of orange muddy water to wallow in. Dear Lord, what a mess.

Other than that we had a delightful walk and even managed to find a geocache. Dangerous was the team leader for that one. Taking the directions quite literally and taking us in a line as straight as an arrow to the cache, she plunged straight off the path and onto the heathery moor sinking right up to her knees in the springy moss. Poor old Batty was terrified but bravely carried on when she’d have been perfectly entitled to have sat that one out. She really is an inspiration. It was worth the trauma she endured though because she was thrilled when she actually found the cache. Munki couldn’t wait to get her head into it to see what the treasure was. Such a lot of excitement for a plastic container with a pen that didn’t work, a small note book and a few miniature plastic toys. We celebrated by cracking open a box of butterscotch sweets, eating them with relish as we enjoyed the amazing view and congratulating ourselves on being brilliant treasure hunters.

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Later in the afternoon I had to take Pebbles, yes, the very one that this blog is named after, to the vet for a pedicure. I dropped two of the clingons off at home and took Munki with me. Pebbles, always a timorous wee beastie, has grown even more timid as she’s got older. Estimates vary as to her exact age but we know for a fact that the least she is is twenty and possibly as old as twenty two. She deserves to be handled with a bit of care. The vet picked up the clippers and took a chunk out of the first toenail. None too gentle as she did it she also took a chunk of the poor little cat’s toe as well. There was blood everywhere. I was not best pleased. Eventually we got the rest of the claws clipped and Pebbles slunk gratefully back into the safety of her box, the very same box I’d fought to get her into an hour before. Poor thing was traumatised, she wouldn’t come near me for the rest of the day but at least she can all comfortably now – or will when that wound heals.

On the way home from the vet’s I dropped Munki off at Lashes’ work. There is a new sign offer the door. RECEPTION. “Nanny, why does it say reception?” “Well, that’s how people know where to go when they come to visit. “Mummy works in reception, doesn’t she? That means when I go back to school I’ll be in year one but Mummy will still be in reception!”

Hahaaaaaaaa. She’ll go far, that child!

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