It's a scary world.

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): Yellow.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 3.
Tears: No.
Overall day: 👺

Apologies for the lack of blogs baggees, there are two reasons for this. Firstly Creative Clara can think of nothing interesting to say and secondly Creative Clara can think of nothing interesting to say! That's it really. Nothing interesting has happened to Baggy. She has no energy to do anything of interest. And Calum and Minty Mutt are not well, so nothing has been done for a couple of days really, apart from lots of sleeping. But old age and dementia are taking their toll a bit.

First problem is Hormonal Hannah's brain. It was her who selected the paint for The Domestic Goddess to paint the window casements. It was Calum who pointed out to her yesterday that she'd used indoor paint. Result - she'll have to do them all again. More paint was purchased. She intended getting started on it today. But Baggy finally got up at 11.00am and within half-an-hour some pretty violent thunderstorms had started. This put poor little Minty Mutt into a meltdown. It's so sad for Furry Mama to watch. Her big brave reenactment dog, who has walked through World War II "guns", past Napoleonic cannons, in amongst Saxon shield-walls, is a gibbering panting wreck when it thunders. He's never been bothered, in fact he used to go outside in storms and watch the lightening. Now the poor sausage glues himself to Furry Mama or Calum every time there's a bang. It makes Freda Fretter wonder if Furry Mama is indeed being unkind to him. He's obviously distraught and unsure what to do. Lots of things worry him these days, and Baggy just keeps remembering her step-mother's Alzheimer's, and how often she was scared. Baggy always used to say that it was cruel to let her carry on like that, "You wouldn't put a dog through it", so now Furry Mama is wondering if that is exactly what she's doing. It's so hard.

All she wants to do is give him the best life possible, but how do you tell when that is no longer what you are doing? He has to have surgery next week, and Furry Mama is now full of doubt that that's the right thing to do either. He's an old dog and it's a big risk.................