Splish splash

Such an unsatisfactory swim this morning. The pool wasn't properly filled to the level of the perimeter at the shallow end, so annoying choppy waves were set up and it was like swimming in the sea in a force three wind. Bang went my attempts at practising the front-crawl - I just kept on breathing in water and having to flip onto my back to recover. I'm a not-bad swimmer but not a natural water-baby. Well, at least it would give those bored-looking pool attendants something to do if I did drown myself.

Yesterday was the Vestry away-day. We went all the way to the Uig Hall. Nice and close to me, anyhow. It turned out better than I thought it would, and if we didn't actually achieve anything, at least we focussed our thoughts. Maureen and Kimberly were a good team.

Paul wants to get a dog. I think a mutt would be best - preferably a born and bred town dog who would enjoy occasional forays into the countryside. There are so many needing good homes - I hate to think of unwanted puppies. I shall tentatively suggest it. My dogs seem to have taken over next-door's land as well as their own patch. The house has been empty for about three years and so I guess my occasional nipping over to plunder the rhubarb has made them think it's just a part of our garden. Oops - your sins will always find you out, Di!

Doggy woes

Jess really knows how to be poorly. She puts herself to bed and looks woebegone, occasionally emitting small groans and whimpers.

On Tuesday she suffered a Terrible Accident as she dashed after her ball in the woods behind the house. She must have run into a sharp stick because she suddenly yowled and came limping back to me in great distress. When I'd checked that the stick hadn't gone into her mouth or pierced her heart, but had made a nasty cut on her chest which was bleeding profusely, I carried her down the hill and prepared to administer first aid.

Unlike Jonny, who refuses to let anyone near any injuries he sustains, preferring to tough it out in stoical fashion, Jess stretched out on her back on my lap and allowed me to clean the wound, then took herself off to bed where she remained for the rest of the day, only rising for a morsel of dinner. Jonny was attentive, sniffing and giving comforting licks. By evening, the wound had begun to heal, closing up amazingly. By the next day, she was still being careful in the morning but by evening was back to normal, even chasing her ball again.

When we passed the Accident Site, both dogs spent a lot of time sniffing and Jonny followed the scent to the offending stick which I removed. It brought home to me the incredible healing powers of dogs. Often they're up and about and ready to go only hours after an operation. Isn't Nature wonderful?

Ripping yarn

I wanted to post a picture of Fidelio with her spinnaker close-hauled like a foresail. I took it on Saturday afternoon as we zoomed along at almost 7 knots (I love the new log - it works!) moments before it split asunder. Then it ripped even more as Rob struggled to pull it in, ripping the chute as well in the process. To complete the trio of disasters, Rob's hat blew off into the water and we had to do a nifty manoeuvre to recover it - all of which would have made much more exciting photos, but since the camera to computer lead has disappeared into the impenetrable maw of this house, the moment is lost. update: Mrs Blethers kindly lent me a lead so I have the photo after all.

We got the feeling Fidelio was trying to tell us something and indeed she was. According to the specs, top speed for a Freedom 21 is about 6 knots, but since we've never had a working log before we hadn't a clue that we were pushing her too hard. Poor baby.