After all the excitement* of Wednesday, all I was fit for on Thursday was lying in a small dormouse-y ball with my head in the teapot.
*This is code for excessive drinking of Champagne
Chloe texted me lots of congratulations for my award-winning (more on that later), and suggested a Thanksgiving walk. As I had all three family dogs for the day this seemed more sensible than dormouse impressions, and also held out hope that with no room to spin around me I might even stay upright. If the dogs didn’t pull me over first. So, in my completely unsuitable for dog-walking, first thing I picked off the bedroom floor, Aritzia see through dress, & my Hunters, I piled the menagerie into my two-seater and drove north to Hampstead Heath.
It really was lovely. P Bad tried, yet again, to tunnel through to visit my readers in Australia. Zelda & Billy did racing sprints, and Maudie pottled along at my feet.
Chloe, bless her, agreed to be on camera duty, but P Bad, as per, had her bottom to the lens in every shot – she does love to dig. Altho it was a bloomin’ miracle that she got all three in the same frame. Dogs do not take direction very well, we have discovered. (Zelda just wanted to sit by her mama.)
So I tried picking her up, but then my hair went everywhere and then Maudie had her bum in the air. This posing for the camera business is complicated. I want my Diesel team back again.