Today I went to a photo shoot with Venture Studios, which was a 30th Birthday present from my sister (she’s such an inspired wee genius!) and had the MOST fun and the doggies were SOOOO well behaved. Getting dressed this morning was a thought provoking experience and I’ll tell you why.
The studio had suggested wearing and bringing along props that were reflective of your personality and interests. So as I was dragging on my clothes this morning, I automatically reached for a pair of odd socks (can you say that?) for good luck and that got me thinking of the small, almost unconscious, things that we do that make unique in ways we don’t even notice.
My odd sock habit has its depths in my University days, when I would catch the bus in to lectures when the weather was grim and I didn’t fancy a four mile hike in the rain. The bus stop was a five minute walk away across a field, and the buses were often double deckers or bendy buses that jammed us together like sardines. At any rate, I had a spate of bad luck on the buses in my first year, when I consistently fell down, got pushed over or some other calamity (see reasons why I hate buses, many of these ocurred during that fortnight) would befall me whenever I was on a bus. It lasted about 2 weeks, and at the end of the fortnight, I had bruises on bruises and could cheerfully have done without seeing a bus ever again. I was, in fact, on the verge of turning in my bus pass completely.
One fine day, I overslept and when I woke up and realised the time, I grabbed whatever clothes were to hand (I must have made a fine sight!) and threw them on including a pair of odd socks and headed for the bus stop and found, to my undisguised delight, that I had not only an uneventful journey but that I made my lecture with minutes to spare. I could only put this unlikely ocurrance down to the odd socks (or blind luck) and ever since, if I’ve felt the need for a little extra luck, I’ve worn mismatched socks. (Clearly I should have remembered to do that on evil, everything sucks Tuesday, shouldn’t I?)
What quirky habits do you have?
Tags: I'm not quirky, it's perfectly rational, My Dogs Would Give The Hound Of The Baskervilles a Run For His Money, The Good Ole Days
Gosh, it’s been a busy few days. I’ve had friends and dogs over, and been enjoying the house and the wild and windy weather outside.
There are few things in life more invigorating and refreshing than wandering outside in the wild winter weather, with dogs that get excited at every small thing you see. I consider it one of nature’s greatest natural highs. And the cup of tea that inevitably follows a good walk: I would swear that there is nothing on earth that tastes sweeter.
The weather had a threatening air about it for much of Saturday afternoon, so we headed out to The Piano bar for a late lunch, where we cheerfully greeted by a very attractive and very pleasant waiter, before gulttonously indulging ourselves in the most gorgeous food. I had a prawn and smoked salmon medley to start, followed by the best steak baguette I have ever had the pleasure to ingest. My friend, the lovely Kasia, enjoyed a tagliatelle carbonara and looked very pleased over it. It was all helped along by a half of local cider and a couple of servings of dishy waiter 
We headed down to West Bay, near Bridport on Sunday morning for a wander along the beach and along the coastal path. The winds were very high and gusty, and as a result so were the waves, which was wonderfully atmospheric. Although stunning to watch, it was as amusing to watch the dogs (and occasional person) caught out by the crashing waves and getting an unseasonal soaking!
Frothy waves and spray crashing onto the rocks.
Waves crashing on the shore. Exhilarating windy weather.
Dramatic waves crashing against the rocks
The dogs really seemed to enjoy the weekend (apart from the odd scuffle) and really seemed to enjoy the beach!
Sasha, enjoying a run on the beach. Pure happiness!
Flossie having a roll and a dig in the sand
Pluto and Flossie having some doggy lovin' time
Fun and games with a new spaniel friend
Hunting exciting new smells on the Beach
A doggy convention
Post-beach, we decided to take a drive through some stunning Dorset countryside towards Moonfleet Manor, the Inn referred to by John Meade Faulkner in Moonfleet
, home of Dorset Smugglers, where we stopped off for some atmosphere, gorgeously warm fires, and a drink before braving the elements once more and heading off towards Weymouth beach for another romp on the beach and some seaside fish and chips.
Moonfleet manor (Image borrowed from www.sheridans-guides.com)
I can’t wait to do it all over again! :0)
Tags: My Dogs Would Give The Hound Of The Baskervilles a Run For His Money