Sunday Slowly

My Sunday is slow - extra slow. Willo and I went to The Old Bar last night to see The Graveyard Train. They were supported by Brendan Welch and Abbie Cardwell who was particularly pleasent. I really love a good cover and her blue grass version of Cory Hart's old "Future's so bright, I gotta wear shades" was neato! Oh and loved her "Ode to Billie Joe" too.

It was a great night, with beer and good music - topped off with a kebab on the way home at Lord Knows When - I regret ordering the "spicey lamb" because it was toooo spicey! Next time I'll just order after Willo and say "I'll have what he's havin'."

I woke with a headache. Which is unusual. And I do not like it. I tried to banish it with poached eggs on toast and a cup of tea for lunch - but that didn't work. I tried coffee. That didn't work either so I had another. Finally, now at nearly 4pm the sun is lower in the sky and the capillaries in my brain have finally opened up enough to allow adequate blood flow. I'm feeling less pain.

You can lead a dog to water, but you can't make him jump in - well, you can - you need to make it very worth his while. Cheese, for instance, is a compelling reason for Jet to get his feet wet.

This weekend, Jet has become the proud owner of a new room (kennel on the deck) but also of an "urban garden" (sand pending) and pool in the shape of a clam shell (half pool, half aforementioned "urban garden" awaiting "sand from the country", and currently hosting "favourite blue blankie"). He's one lucky puppy.