6amers

After neglecting my Aloe Vera plant for years, to the point it had changed from its foppish green to a deathly beige, I repotted. Now, I have 10 Aloe Vera plants, which are slowly turning green again, now they are in proper soil, in some soil, not squeezed twenty into one pot. I keep moving them around the garden to get the full sun. The two on the windowsill, with my baby succulents, are turning green quicker than the ones in the yard. I move the ones around in the yard, morning and afternoon. Water them every three weeks, how the hell do you remember that? Of course, if I told Sam, I'd have it repeating in my calendar every three weeks for the rest of my life, in no time.

It was humid and steamy at 6am, a summers day on winter colours, until the sun comes out, if it ever does. We took Buddy to the dog park to run around. He knows all the 6amers by now. The white and black curly-coat. The caramel curly-coat. The caramel staffy. The puggle. 

A woman was there with a sick Labrador, she got very anxious every time Buddy approached. So, of course, he was the only dog Buddy was interested in. She wasn't very pleased about it, not at all. Oh yes, I could have been quicker, oh yes, I could have actually given a shit, but there is also a good argument to be had for not bringing your sick Labrador to the dog park. Buddy only wanted to say hello, if you’d have let him, it would all be over now, but no. I can move my arse just a little quicker, I grant you, to alleviate your anxiety, I could. I can see that look on your face. Yes, your Trixie-Bell is precious, I get that. How old? How much did you spend? Wince, at the thought. You don’t know what this brute is capable of, looking down at Buddy. Big grin, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Really? Him? Neither do I, some of the time, I whisper. A real bulldozer. Not comforting?

Let's find out what's wrong with this Labrador, yes, that sounds like a fun game, decides Buddy.

Really? Bud? (You're letting the side down, little guy)

Yes, I’ve got him. See. Lead on. Click sounds his lead. "What is wrong with you?" We leave.

Buddy is exhausted on the walk home, Captain Slow at every corner.

Bud lays spread eagle across the kitchen tiles, bugger anybody else.

Kiss kiss, at the door. Wave till Sam is out of sight. He goes to work early, 7.30am is early. Is 7.30am still early? He’ll be in the office in 10 minutes.

Another coffee, of course.

A bit of Gladys Knight, Since I fell for You...

It's Friday. Again. Good thing I write a journal, otherwise, not a clue.

God Bless The Child...

Monday morning, and Friday, they seem to be the two constants in my life at the moment.

Come Sunday, oh, come Sunday, that's the day.