Spring Developments at FTC

It’s been over a month now since Red joined our family. The time has flown past and it seems like he’s always been here. In fact, I can’t remember a time when Keith and I had space to lie along the sofa without creating a tangle of dog limbs, or came home from a walk without two mud monsters to dry off. In celebration of that, we decided to take some photos of the boys this weekend.

Red and Keith looking for Harry (the look of resigned frustration is because Harry had managed to entice a Jack Russell from his back garden into the fields for a bloody good play and obviously had no intention of rejoining us)


Red waiting for his errant brother to catch us up once the Jack Russell was recaptured by his owner


Harry Enjoying the sun in the back garden


Until it all got too much and he realised he was dying up like a prune


At which point he joined Red in watching the comings and goings next door with a nice piece of wood to chew on.






This weekend also saw the garden make some massive leaps forward. The beds are now defined (and more importantly fenced off!!) in the lower part of the garden. The somewhat patchy grass has been re-sown and watered on a daily basis by a very frustrated Keith (who I think may well throw an epic tantrum if the dogs manage to accomplish their mission of peeing and chewing the new grass seed into an early grave) and the beds have been planted up with beans, tomatoes, strawberries, blueberries, camomile, peppers, melons and peas. I make no claims that any of them will actually bear fruit, but the signs are encouraging.

The next phase of the garden is also now underway. I make no bones about the fact that my enthusiasm for this part of the garden is somewhat tempered by Keith’s ongoing desire to destroy any signs of life in favour of level paved surfaces and built in mechanic facilities. I suppose by that measure, I should be glad that he has chosen to locate his magnum opus in this area of the garden, although the earthworks for “the pond” have already claimed 2 garden forks and caused several stand up rows on the exact size, or rather magnitude, of said same water feature. My main worry, if I can possibly prioritise all the worries I have about this latest project, is that judging by the ‘swimming pool’ Keith’s best friend installed in his back garden, I’m going to come home in the next few weeks and fall headlong into a pit that could bury an elephant. Not an idea I relish, but if nothing else it distracts Keith from his other current obsession, the need for a ‘proper’ barbeque.

It was inevitable - a trip to Bill’s house (complete with gas powered super barbie on which to cook the Sunday morning fry-up), friends over this weekend for the first al fresco dinner of the year, and two highly carnivorous dogs, one with a serious drool problem - and I can fully understand why Keith, in the throws of the male cooking experience, might feel that kneeling on the ground over a small barrel barbeque might not give quite the impression he’s looking for. It’s hard to maintain an air of machismo when you’re scrabbling around juggling plates of food and cooking prongs. Even more so when you can’t put your beer down for fear it’ll be stolen by the crafty and ever vigilant booze hound. So comments have been muttered darkly about the need for a more substantial arrangement, possibly involving bricklaying and a full range of chefly accoutrements. I’m tempted to agree with it actually, on the basis that in return, I get to choose the chef’s apron. Suggestions on a postcard to the usual address.