Wednesday, 14 June 2017

Newborns.

Note to readers (my lovely Baggees): For the avoidance of any doubt - every character in this blog is me!!! No Baggy was harmed in its writing.

Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Blue.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 3.
Tears: Yes.
Pancakes (Yes/No): Who cares?
Syns (Baggy is allowed 8-15): Clever Bird blames Hormonal Hannah, but Baggy has stopped counting, as if you hadn't guessed that baggees!
Weight in her terrifying naked state (Stones and pounds): It is what it is!
Overall day:  😊

What a glorious summer day! Best remember it - they don't happen often in England. Number one furry was up early this morning (7.00am), which is much more like him, so Baggy is optimistic that he's finally on the mend! Baggy on the other hand, despite going to bed early, didn't get up until 10.30, when Calum brought her a cup of tea. She woke up to all her furries which was lovely. Even Minty Mutt was on the bed. When she wandered downstairs, she wondered where Cal was, only to realise he was in the garage, trying to reclaim it once again. This was good for two reasons 1) Baggy's sick of it being a mess and 2) Cal must definitely be feeling better.

Baggy woke up The Domestic Goddess to help him. It was a slow process because neither Cal or Baggy have much strength. It was also a slow process because a lot of the boxes that needed to be sorted out were Baggy's Dad's. There were also all kinds of things squirrelled away by him - old wallpaper, bits of carpet, Baggy's toy sailing yacht, model planes he'd made, tins of nails, tins of screws, tins of nuts-and-bolts etc etc. Baggy fell apart when she untied little bits of string that her Dad had tied round some old carpet. She always misses him, but of course it's Father's Day this weekend and it was on Father's Day (17th June) five years ago, that she found her Dad dead in his house - now her house of course. It's hard for Baggy not to think about it sometimes, but equally, although upsetting, it is quite comforting for Hormonal Hannah to have so many memories of him around her all the time. Creative Clara very carefully retied the reef knots in the old string and shed a few tears, while telling her Dad that she missed him.

The Domestic Goddess kept Cal and Baggy supplied with drinks, but when she went to make lunch she realised that she was out of milk and had no bread. Baggy took her to the village farm shop, Suffolk-style to get some, (and cake).


It's a bit hazardous frankly, possibly as much for the locals as for Baggy, as she meanders across the road every time she tries to signal, or look over her shoulder, but she got there and back in one piece!





Lunch made and consumed, Baggy put a couple of the chairs from the garage together - both sun loungers. Of course she had to try them out. Big mistake as Hannah immediately started to nod off.

But by this evening some progress had been made. They were just packing things back up for the evening when Furry Mama noticed that Bracket-kat had caught something. She went to investigate, another shrew, another mole, another slow worm, another baby bird? No, this time it was a baby mouse. A teeny-weeny little new born mouse whose eyes weren't even open. Furry Mama was very upset. She persuaded the cats to go in and tried to leave the baby near where she'd found him, but it was very obvious he wouldn't have a hope. He is currently in a margarine tub, snuggled up in a catnip "mouse" being fed a.k.a. half-drowned with cat milk that Furry Mama is attempting to get in his little mouth, every two hours. Four hours later he's still alive, so Furry Mama is perservering. It's going to be a very long night.......................

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