We've moved most of the pots and tubs of flowers from the front of the caravan and put them around my shed for the time being...and we've brought all the extra throws and blankets indoors...they're stuffed under the bed in bin bags for the present awaiting 'proper' storage. Jamie can have the extra duvet which we found under the seats...heaven knows how long it's been there...but it smells clean. And I bought a sort of horrible duvet thingy from the charity shop to make a soft bed for Eli when he was so poorly...Jamie can have that as well 'cos poor old Eli never got to use it. It isn't really so horrible but it has a nasty flowery cover which is part of it and can't be taken off.
And I washed it in the machine when I first bought it and the washing machine made a dreadful fuss altogether...Wendy can stuff it in hers now...
So the caravan is ready to go...we've decided Jason can move it or get someone else to move it for him...Himself visualises the floor falling out the minute it goes over a bump and he's said he doesn't want to be responsible and who can blame him...
Himself and Reuben brought Henry and Christy home for winter the other day and I rather think they're thankful to be in a warm dry barn rather than up to their ankles in mud on the field they were grazing. There isn't any grass now in any case, so they'd begun to gnaw on the hedges and trees.
We bought Christy about seven years ago from the car boot sale of all places...he was tiny and scraggy and awful looking...his fur was coming out in clumps and he shivered from the cold. He wore a thick coat for ages afterwards to try to warm him up a bit...he was a poor little soul altogether...used to stand with his head hanging down. Now he's a bit of a thug actually...and he tends to nip, for which he gets a swift smack on the nose and told NO...
I got Henry as a gift for two Grand-Daughters who had vowed they'd be visiting us until they were old and grey but never came again...he's handsome is Henry. Dark chocolate brown and pricked up ears...he's a bit of a thug as well when I come to think, but he doesn't bite...or maybe he's realised it isn't good manners to do so.
We bought the caravan for the same two Grand-Daughters and their parents actually...Reuben and T and we two thought it would be ideal for them to have a seriously cheap holiday so we clubbed together to get it...they came once, and we've not seen them again. Of course Teresa and Reuben have used it regularly, but it's a bit annoying to think the people we were thinking off haven't.
They say they can't possibly leave their dog...it's a Shit-U...it has to have its feet washed when it's been outside for a wee...and they put in kennels when they came here and it 'smelled funny' when they went to collect it...so now they won't come to visit. My inner bitch reared her head and some when I pointed out that Dad is older now and would like to see his daughter and her children and she'll be sorry when he's gone and the feckin' dog took precedence over her own Father...
Doesn't it just make you want to shake them 'til their teeth rattle...
Perhaps...in the scheme of things, it doesn't matter much. Maybe it's more fool us buying a caravan so family could use it for cheap holidays...perhaps it was plain silly of me to imagine that the children would enjoy grooming and feeding their very own donkey when they'd spent the week wishing for one...perhaps it is more important to some families to ensure their dog doesn't spend time in boarding kennels and smell odd when they collect him, to visiting their elderly Father for a few days...
Sometimes...when I'm trawling Ancestry and adding more people to my expanding tree, I have a bit of a think about whether they all played a version of Happy Families...I don't suppose for one minute they did. But when I was young, we were taught to have an obligation I suppose, towards the older family members and especially towards a parent. Not just I...but all my peers were the same.
But apart from me muttering about family, we've had a good enough day...got things done and sorted and I've made the legs for my new art doll.
Now it's dark and awful quiet in our street...the wind has died down and it isn't raining...animals are fed...time for supper.