How can I make Rhubarb Crumble when the pie dishes are packed?

Hmmmm .... my sulk about the rugby is OVER. My Bokke were outplayed and at this moment in time, the Flightless Fowls are indeed the best team in the world

 ..... FOR NOW.

Don’t let all my Kiwi friends be fooled by this statement though. It in NO way indicates that I’m supporting YOUR Flightless Fowls. All it means is that I recognise good rugby when I see it and give praise where it’s due. 

My Bokke will be back.

I guess I’ll let the hound use and abuse that Chiefs rugby ball for a little longer. 

My house DOESN’T look like a HOME at the moment, there are boxes and boxes and still more boxes. I think I MIGHT have been a little hasty in packing some of the things in the kitchen. Last night I wanted to make a Rhubarb Crumble and all the pie dishes are PACKED! 

Friday can’t come round soon enough. Disorder and upheaval are not condusive to a creative mind ... I need harmony and ORGANISED chaos to work at my best.

.... and the hound NEEDS her rambles.

Mondays and Wednesdays are always a bit chaotic ... made even more so at the moment with the hubris of the move. Telling customers in the shop that you ramble on the beach at 6.30 in the morning always causes raised eyebrows. You can see what they’re thinking. Why would ANYONE with a sane mind ramble in the waves at 6.30 in the morning?

Ask Julia ... she’ll tell you .... it’s all about the MAGIC ... and that LACK of sanity.

Even when it’s raining, even when the sun hasn’t yet risen in the sky, even those days when the wind tries to blow us to Timbuktoo and back .... there’s a magic in the morning that disappears once the rest of the world wakes. 

I LOVE it!

It’s that sense of oneness with the world as I walk down the road. Very little stirs. I meet and greet the neighbourhood kitties ... and there are a LOT of those. I say good morning to the elderly gentleman who’s always fetching his newspaper from the letterbox as I pass by. The cyclists call out greetings as they not-so-silently swish past. 

The hound takes none of this in. She’s got a one-track mind

 ..... beach, ball, waves .... in that order.

She’s just as focused when we go to Waiatarua. She races on ahead of us, CHIEFS ball in mouth, impatiently looking over her shoulder to ensure we’re still heading in the same direction as her. She was a tad confused today by Carol’s new-found fascination with the BUSH. Sam couldn’t understand why Carol kept on disappearing ... he thought it was a new game!

Ebony, the SUBMARINE Labrador joined them at the dog-pond again. She’s amazing the way she holds her breath to retrieve things of the bottom of the pond floor. She showed us a new trick today too ... carrying a stick AND a rugby ball in her mouth at the same time, even leaping into the pond with them and not dropping them!! 

That’s a girl dog for you!!

“Every morning when we wake up, we have twenty-four brand new hours to live! What a precious gift!” 

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

FIP my Welsh rugby ball!

It had to happen. Sam reneged on the deal. 

The beautiful Welsh rugby ball when it arrived at our house in March. Those eyes say it all
THIS IS MINE .... DO NOT TOUCH!

He let my Welsh rugby ball float off into the big blue yonder. 

FIP Welsh rugby ball ... I’ll miss you. 

(FIP = Float in peace)

It's heading off to Rangitoto

If I’d been able to persuade my hound to leap into the waves after it, in between all the chaos of Sam running backwards and forwards across the rocks and this other silly hound barking it’s head off .... we might have been able to save it. My hound was confused though .... Sam kept racing to the edge of the rocks in front of her. The other hound was barking for its stick to be thrown. It was a bit like our house USED to be when the kids were younger and heading off in 3 different directions to school. It was organised CHAOS.

When we look after Sam, we BROADEN his education .... we EXPLORE nudist beaches!!

Those days still come back to haunt me. The last few years of Gareth being at Junior School were the worst. 3 children going to 3 different schools, one of which happened to be a 45 minute drive away, would test the sanity of MOST people. 

They survived .... the kids that is .... and I didn’t kill anyone.

I digress though .... back to the hounds and my Welsh rugby ball crisis.

The Welsh rugby ball’s time was up. We nearly lost it yesterday on our ramble. The hound dropped it in the village as we were making our way up the hill. We didn’t register it wasn’t in her mouth anymore until we got to the top of the hill. Gav and her went back to look and she knew EXACTLY where she’d dropped it. Her pace quickened as they got closer and she gleefully grabbed the ball in her mouth and raced back up the hill to where I was waiting.

Sam, LEAPING into the waves!

It was a close call.

You wouldn’t know it was a Welsh rugby ball anymore. It’s well past it’s prime and all the kicking and throwing into the waves and river have removed any semblance of colour from it’s exterior. It’s been well-chewed too .... both ends no longer resemble leather of any kind. My hound prefers it like that though .... all the better to get a good grip on it!

CHOCOLATE BOX hounds!

 I guess I’m going to have to find myself another Welsh rugby ball.

In the meantime I’m sure Sam will be happy using the South African ball when we ramble together. I’ll just pump a little more air into it and he’ll be a happy “wannabee” rugby-playing chocolate hound.

Carol might not be so happy though. She's not so sure about Sam LOVING my Bokke ball.

Chelsea - we haven't seen her on the beach for a little while .... but that's because she's had 10 puppies!

Sam spent some time with us this weekend

I had an epiphany today .... a rugby epiphany!

I had an epiphany today .... one of those visions when all of a sudden everything becomes crystal clear!

Sam, the wannabee Chocolate Hound wants to be a Bokke! I don’t think I should tell Carol that .... not just yet.

I don’t know why I didn’t see this before. After all, he’s an Aussie hound AND he loves  rugby. Don’t all Aussie rugby players “wannabee” part of my Bokke's team?

His delight in carrying my hound’s South African ball around Waiatarua this morning was palpable .... I could FEEL his excitement. My hound, for some unfathomable reason, chose to take her Bokke ball out on our ramble. She doesn’t normally do that .... it’s the Welsh ball she usually lets Sam play with. Today though, she introduced him to the SOUTH AFRICAN ball and he LOVED it!

Shags warming up in the early morning sunshine

I believe in fairy tales and miracles. I believe my Bokke are going to whip the Wannabees and the Flightless Fowls when they next play them at home ... and I think Sam believes that too!

I’m still puzzled at my hound’s fascination with Sam’s Chiefs rugby ball though.

I got told by a friend today that I bring sunshine where there is none, cause it follows me around .... that’s not really true. What IS true is that I choose to see good in almost everything .... even the Chiefs rugby ball .... that’s just the way I approach life.

I believe that everyone has a right to life, a right to love, a right to be happy.

Indy on the beach this morning

It would be remiss of me not to add that my life’s not perfect. Despite my positive approach to life, the difficulties I face can sometimes be overwhelming. In the words of Mike Dooley though “We are all supernatural, indomitable joy-bound gladiators of love ...  supercoolhappylovethings.”  We can overcome anything.

If Mike Dooley was a hound he’d tell our hounds to think of themselves as supercoolhappylovehounds .... and they would, especially when they’re rambling with rugby balls in their mouths.

Labradors are definitely a DIFFERENT breed. Ours just don’t do the CHASE thingy with other hounds .... even when the other hounds pinch their rugby balls. 

Sam couldn’t understand why Shadow, a lean lithe cross Border Collie, was running away with ‘HIS’ ball .... the Bokke ball. He wanted it back and every time he went to take it off Shadow, Shadow would run away. Shadow couldn’t understand why Sam wouldn’t chase him ... it’s a GAME .... you’re meant to chase me.

Sam’s a true-blue Labrador through and through though. He, like my hound, LOVES to carry something in his mouth .... wether it be a log, a rugby ball or any other kind of ball. Retrieving is what he does .... it’s instinctive .... and he was trying to tell Shadow he DIDN’T do CHASE .... not unless it’s chasing a rugby ball that’s bouncing through the waves or over the grass.

Sam was just being WHAT he IS.

.... and a final word from a cancer survivor about life:

“Go out and pursue your dreams. Make a difference in the world - or to one person. Be around people who make you happy. LIVE your life! Don’t put it off.” 

~ Jim Willett - Optimism Revolution.

Shiloh also wanted to play with the Bokke ball

Yes .... this is my FAVOURITE ball!

That hound is NOT  having MY ball!