Fi's Foibles

By purpleicious

Red sky at night

This pair of pigeons scratch around in our garden, sometimes bill & coo in the tree outside my window, but mostly they sit on top of this willow tree, & I love the way they're silhouetted against the skyline; this evening they & everything around them were on fire in the setting sun. Technically, I feel I could have done it more justice, but at least I caught the light & the colour.

When we were kids we used to say: 'Red sky at night means shepherds pie for dinner', which is highly appropriate as I'm still very much on slops! But things are improving: I needed painkillers again at 4am this morning, but none since then, & I managed to get my daily medication down without choking - I even managed to 'chew' some sliced peaches, so that's definite progress! And, so long as I concentrate very hard, I can drink normal mouthfuls of water rather than just taking pathetic little sips; I'm also getting a lot more confident about the removal/cleaning/replacement procedure, but will be mighty glad when I can use regular mouthwash again rather than salt water - which of course makes me even more desperate to be able to drink properly. The swelling is barely visible now, so I've been practicing my 'filmstar smile': perhaps I'll pluck up the courage to blip myself one of these days ;-) But on the down side, I still can't get used to the feeling of that great lump of plastic: it reminds me of the days when I used to chew gum, & after a while all the taste had gone & you were left with a great globule of smooth hard stuff lurking in your mouth: today I've managed to forget about the 'alien in my mouth' for periods of time, but every so often the following thought pops into my head: 'this chewing gum is getting on my nerves, it tastes disgusting & I really must spit it out' .... & then I remember!

Jack is beginning to get the message that we're in charge; he loves playing with his rope, chasing up & down the lounge when we throw it for him, & growling when we try to take it off him, but he will now bring it to us & sit on command - we're still working on the word to make him drop it, but he knows that the game is being played on our terms rather than his. He's also accepted that he can't follow us into the bathroom - but care should be taken when exiting said room, as invariably he's sitting waiting right outside the door, ready to trip you up! Hubby reports that he was very co-operative at getting into the car today when they went out for their walk, but does still get quite anxious when they get out at the other end; it's almost as if he's overwhelmed by all the new smells - perhaps to him the countryside is so much 'smellier' than London?

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