|Did you miss me?|
Yes, we have killed the fatted Whiskas! The good news is that Monty finally returned home exactly 2 weeks after he left and we are, of course, utterly delighted. All he's done since he got back is to eat and sleep, but he's been given a clean bill of health by the vet so we just need to look after him while he regains his weight and generally recovers. He was covered in tics and very thin when he got back, but appeared otherwise fine, and over the past day or so we've begun to see signs of his old mischevious self returning so not long now until we can put this whole thing behind us. Where he went is anyone's guess but the top theory is that he first helped the Easter Bunny out with his deliveries then headed down to London for the wedding and a party at the palace before joining a covert US military mission somewhere near Islamabad - but of course he's saying nothing. Military training and all that.
|Ullswater from Howtown|
|A hidden away lake - but which one..?|
We've even started to give our own names to places, there's so many peaks around here that it's hard to remember which is which was you go by, so we've invented a few of our own. As you drive along Thirlmere (a truly gorgeous lake but one that just gets driven past as people whiz from Ambleside to Keswick) if you look up you can spot "thumps up mountain" sitting just behind it, the top of which looks for all the world like a hand giving a thumbs up sign. Maybe when I discover the real name for the peak I'll find out that it's an ancient norse translation of "thumbs up"... There's also the memorable path we took down from Rannerdale Knott, which wasn't really a path at all and which I came down largely on my backside, earning it the nickname "Bum Plummet". Steve came up with that one and I think it's truly one of the finest names for a descent I've ever heard and I may well mention it to the chaps at the Ordinance Survey.
So here we are back at the weekend again. Luckily for me the weather forcast is pretty grim which means I won't be chomping at the bit quite so much to get out and about and my leg may just get the time it needs to heal. Or is it 'heel' when it's shin splints? Either way I am destined to drive Steve to distraction as I have the patience and attention span of a gnat and am not at all easy company when I'm confined to quarters. Perhaps I'd better behave in case he takes a leaf out of Monty's book and heads off into the woods for a few days to escape me, although I'm pretty sure I could lure him back quite quickly with a bowl of custard. Hmmm - I wonder if those nice people at Animal Search UK can help finding lost husbands..? Worth a go, although until I get him microchipped there's probably not a lot they can do to help.