It is Tuesday night. Tuesday night is “dog walking night” when friends call, coming around to the back of the house to collect me and the dogs before we all walk down the hill to the Heathcote Arms. We all enjoy ourselves, but especially the dogs, who get different and enthusiastic company to walk with, and doggy treats from behind the bar at the pub. Thanks to Lesia’s poorly knee, Tia has enjoyed exclusive rights to our company for the last few weeks.
Unusually everyone was busy this week, what with pre-Christmas activities, and in one case the preferred option of a trip to the Caribbean. Beats a trip to the Heathcote Arms, apparently.
I had received the various apologies in advance, and so the evening has been spent as any other evening at home, with dinner, followed by a longish walk with Tia along one of the normal non-pub-night routes around the fields, before I settled down in the study to catch up on a few things. As far as the evening routine was concerned, it could have been a Wednesday or a Thursday or any other week night that isn’t a Tuesday. No normal Tuesday night routine whatsoever.
So why, just before 8pm, did Tia bark and repeatedly push the patio door curtains aside with her nose, to look out for her Tuesday night drinking buddies? That dog is too damned clever…..
Technically we live in Oaktree House, but sadly the tree had to go.
We now have a thriving Oakstump at the front of the house.
