LAUGHTER IS THE BEST MEDICINE

First off, I must apologize, cause if there are doctors among you, what follows may hurt you, but, please, forgive me! Since what happened "some" years ago, I have eaten humble pie...and an apple a day to keep the doctor away (come on, I'm joking).

Quite true, anyway, that, when younger I didn't trust doctors that much. In my mind they were businessmen first and doctors second.

I even happened to speak ill of them, and that's the snag!

I should have weighed my words cause of eavesdroppers.

I was to regret not thinking twice before speaking…

One day, when I picked up Peter, my four-year-old son, at school, I noticed a red small spot on his forehead. I didn't really pay attention, cause I thought  a mosquito had bitten him during the afternoon nap.

But, one hour later he came into the kitchen with a black felt tip pen in his hand and told me that he had circled all the new spots (jeez!), but that now they were coming out so quickly that he couldn't keep up!

No doubt then, chicken pox was on its way, but to make sure I called for the paediatrician.

Hardy had he rung at the door when I heard a door slam and the sneaky noise of a bolt.

Gosh!! Peter had locked himself in the bathroom! 

Five minutes later I had to face the facts : my stick and carrot strategy to make him go out was totally vain!

Then, the paediatrician told me to let him manage, because he was used to frightened children.

Well, of course, he was! After all, he was a paediatrican, he had the know-how!

He knocked at the door and said :

" Hi, Peter. That's me, Doctor A. Mum has told me that you've got plenty of naughty itchy spots. If you get out, I'll give you something to get rid of them ".

A few seconds later, my son's resolute voice came through the door, and what we heard made me awfully uncomfortable.

" I won't go out ", he said, "Mummy often says that doctors are just quacks! ".

I was so ashamed that the only thing I could do was to laugh nervously.

When my son heard me laugh, he wanted to know why and opened the door slowly , came out and so, cleared up the awkward situation he had put me in!

Doctor A. was quick-witted. He looked at me and said :

" I don't share your opinion about doctors,  but what I know is that laughter is the best medicine".

And you? What do you think about doctors?

A TRIBUTE TO MY DOGS

           

Hello everybody,

This week I have cobbled just a short post, cause I'm on a pretty tight schedule.

Here in Cap Sizun, the very tip of Brittany, after countless rainy and foggy days, the weather's clearing, and according to the weathermen, we can expect a lull and the next few days shoul be sunnier.

Then, no time to spare indoors, cause in the garden the weeds and dead leaves are plotting a coup, and if I sit idly, they will rule the roost in no time. 

But before heading to the garden, I want to write a few lines about my dogs, cause Autumn is really the time of the year those two sweethearts deserve a tribute and a pep talk before facing the rough patch they will go through till Winter comes round the corner.

First off, the early days of October ring the bell for a visit to the groomer, which means standing still and steady on a grooming table for nearly two hours! Sheer torture for those two buoyant and playful fellows.

Even though I schedule the appointment sneakily, when D-day comes, instead of jumping joyfully into the car as they usually do, they haul themselves up onto the back seat with a lot of deep sighs, as if they knew where they are going to. A quick glance in the rear view mirror, and I immediately see sad eyes imploring for mercy.

Anyway, once in the salon, those two customers put on a brave face, and are as good as gold. 

So, kudos to them!
        
                                                

Once rid of that chore, what they just need is to frolic in the garden, but unfortunately that's when things go wrong...

The kick-off of Autumn means it's high time to beat the birds to berries and the wasps to the fruit, cause our garden is a real larder.

Of course, my two high-spirited tail waggers are thrilled to bits when harvest time comes, but their expectations is quickly dampened.

This is the season when their usual playground turns into an obstacle course.

When I pick up blueberries, my two helpful assistants rush into the shrubbery, and more often than not, we have to hurry back home and take tweezers to pull out thorns.

Then the sneaky apple trees take advantage of the slightest breeze to drop some apples on their heads and leave them flabbergasted and wondering where that damned sniper can be hiding.

If they run away from the orchard to avoid being knocked out, the huge oak trees take over and bombard them with a few score of acorns. Lighter than apples, but just like a machine-gun fire.

After such misfortune, they could withdraw and get shelter in the garden shed, but those brave guys want to watch my every move, for fear I should grapple with some mysterious attackers.

So, what's better to regain their composure than a little rolling in the grass in the shade of the chestnut tree ?

Ouch! No way to catch a break there, either!

Chestnut husks don't make a comfy mattress, unless you are a fakir!

Battle weary, they are about to resign from their yard boys' temp job, when the mischievous squirrel who has taken residence in the walnut tree start hopping from one branch to the other to tease them.

That's enough to boost their zest of life, and send them barking and jumping again.

Even though a whole Autumn day in the garden wear them out, the next morning those two brave guys are ready to put their lives at risk, just for Mum's sake!

So, hats off to my two furry babies!

And now, cheerio, dear readers, Mother Nature is calling (and fruit, dead leaves and weeds, as well).

Whether you call it Autumn or Fall, make the most of it, and don't forget :

                                       BE PERKY 

                                                 

HOW TO CHANGE A DUVET COVER QUICKLY AND EASILY

Do you know how to change a duvet cover quickly and easily?

Yes? Please, help me, then, cause I've tried all the tips and tricks I could find on the Net, and it aways ends up in the same way : a bundle of cloth on the bed (the duvet cover) and a bundle of nerves (me).

In my previous post I told you how I changed a harmless pencil dress into an oppressive straight-jacket.

Well,  I had the same kind of nightmarish experience not long ago while changing the duvet cover…

Why on earth did I think that holding the duvet tight against me and slipping with it into the cover would be the perfect quick fix?

I guess sometimes my inner loony gets the upper hand.

So, I laid the cover on the bed, grabbed the upper corners of the duvet and started crawling inside the cover.

Unfortunately, it turned out not to be a bed of roses, cause a few second later I was stuck in the darkness, still clutching the precious corners, but unable to find my way in or out!

The more I wriggled, the more I got entangled into my "fabric jail".

I strove to stand up, and when I was about to succeed, Canaille, my nosy dog, pawed into the bedroom, didn't recognize me, cause I looked like an under cover agent (sorry, I couldn't resist that naughty pun),and jumped on me!

Boom! I was back to square one : lying lost in the damn duvet cover!

I could not do anything but keep under cover till Dearhubby alerted by Canaille's barkings came and helped me out.

So, if the saying " As you make your bed, so you must lie in it " is true, now you can easily realize how welcome and helpful you tips and tricks will be!!

WHY I HATE FITTING-ROOMS

Have you ever been trapped in a fitting-room?

Well, it happened to me a while ago and I am not ready to visit one of those awful places again!

Actually, fitting-rooms are one of my pet-hate. I hate their merciless mirrors, their deceiving lights, and, above all, their curtains that never close all the way so anybody can see me trying to wriggle into too-tight clothes.

Anyway, last Summer I wanted to buy a dress and I couldn't avoid a trip to the nearby shop fitting-room.

So, there I was, all in a sweat, fed up and eager to flee that gruesome scene of self-torture.

I slipped clumsily into a pencil dress, and what was to happen happened…

I had forgotten to unzip it properly and it turned into a straight jacket in a wink : my head was half-stuck in the neckline and my arms were trapped in that awful " cigarette case "!

I tried to call for help. In vain! Sure, that dress was good value for money, cause, even though the zip was not that convenient, the fabric was pretty thick and muffled my voice totally!

After useless calls, I decided to shriek.

Bingo! A few seconds later I could feel the shop-assistant's helpful hand zip the dress down!!

Just a glance at myself was enough to crown my misfortune : tousled hair, red cheeks marked by the dress neckline, and my mouth wide open to take my breath back.

What a mortifying sight!

Then, guess what!

I was feeling so grateful to the shop-assistant for helping me to wriggle out of the dress that I bought it, even though it did not fit me like a glove, let alone like a dress.

Now, I guess you understand why I hate fitting-rooms. What about you?