Do you ever get that feeling that you have a half-eaten biscuit somewhere? I get it all the time – and not just about biscuits, either because, let’s face it, there is never a half eaten biscuit anywhere. Invariariably the feeling that I have half a biscuit somewhere means I ate the second half of the biscuit while distracted but it is safely in my belly – and the proof is in the circumference of said belly.
For the past few days, I have been coming home with the weirdest feeling, as though there is something I am supposed to be doing and am forgetting to do. We have a big trip booked, but that is not until October. I am feeling guilty about the dogs – but have a good few months to get over that, and I have a flight to face in the next week but it needs no preparation.
Perhaps it is a hangover from the blog – a – day routine that I followed for an entire year, and have found quite difficult to shake. While I have missed the occasional day since I reached my goal earlier last year, I still find myself wondering what to jot down during the evening.
Over xmas one of the presents I meant to get the dogs and forgot to pick up were little neck wraps that can be soaked in cold water and worn to keep cool. They even say, ‘Cool it’ on them. To be honest, the dogs have not missed them much because the Summer has been so cool but the last few weeks have been hot, so when a colleague said she was going to a shop where I knew they were sold at lunchtime, I hitched a ride and picked them up.
It was still over 30 degrees when I got home at five thirty so I was able to put them on the dogs and take them out. Unfortunately, Archie can not read and as usual launched himself at the huge figure of the most docile dog in the park, the St Bernard, Dyson, who remained blissfully unaware at a tiny, furious dog pulling at his lead, barking his head off and sporting a bright blue neckerchief with the legend, COOL IT.
If there is something I have forgotten to do, I have not yet remembered it. I walked the dogs, had a shower and made some dinner. For the second night in a row, my husband has been at home all evening and the dogs are sitting outside with him on the outdoor couch with the white cushions that they like to jump onto when they are wet and sandy. I am lying under the air con vent allowing a cool breeze to blow over me while they get the warmth of the evening on the patio; the short and the long, the cool and the warm. All is well, until I remember what it is I have forgotten to do.