Himself took Eilis to the vets to have her nails trimmed this afternoon...she had to be given a tranquilliser to calm her down 'cos she was a bit beside herself...huffing and puffing and panting fit to burst.
Eilis is pronounced Aye-leash...it's the Irish for Elizabeth actually which would be a silly name altogether for a dog...but I named her after my Mother...purely out of spite.
Anyway...her horrible long nails are now neatly trimmed, she's had her supper and is fast asleep and snoring...loudly.
I did buy some proper nail clippers to do them myself but she had the screaming hysterics when I began on the first nail and it alarmed me so much I gave up...thought she'd have an apoplexy...
We went shopping this morning but all the peculiar people had stayed at home...there were just dozens of very elderly ladies who'd come into town on the community buses...and the usual ancient farmers, who probably live down remote boreens with an equally elderly collie dog, stocking up on rashers and cabbage and a white sliced loaf...the ladies clog up the aisles with their trolleys which they gaily abandon to go in search of sardines for the cat or instant porridge oats...
By the time I'd reached the frozen fish I was totally knackered and would have quite liked a bit of a sit down but I struggled manfully on until I reached the jams and marmalades where I admitted defeat and had quite a long lean on the trolley to recover...
Bernie, the nurse, came this afternoon...she's very nice and chatty even though she has a bit of a beard and rather alarming spots...I was so tempted to ask her if she'd ever considered using hair remover...but I thought better of it...there isn't a nice way of asking something like that really...bit the same when someone has awful BO...
She thinks I must be ' a very cultured person altogether'...and I said Nah...it's only 'cos I talk posh...apart from when I sprinkle every sentence with 'feck'
So, we had a bit of a chat about not breathing and such like and I was going to ask about a home help 'cos honest to god the cottage is decidedly grimy, but Himself came in then so I didn't...it'd be free you see 'cos we only get the basic pension and the more I think about some capable body giving the place a proper going over the more it appeals...but Himself says he can manage...takes me the entire morning to do a bit of light dusting.
An early night is called for methinks...the wind is blowing up a gale and it's lashing down with rain...a mug of hot chocolate liberally laced with Irish Whiskey and a decent book while swathed in warm throws sounds perfectly lovely...