Colds and other woes

Not very happy at the moment. Full of cold and impatient for it to be gone, gone, gone. I don't have time for colds. I have  a dog to walk, a house to run (ha ha!) a book to finish and a finished book to redesign. There are no holidays looming up in the next few months, so I should get a good run at the writing, if only everything else would fit into place around it.. The dog is chewing his feet to the point that I've let him chew one of my slippers instead. It's that bad.

Vets bills are astronomical. We've had tests, and bought potions - all of which are a trial to administer, because Tim can sense a medication at a hundred paces and he can move a lot faster than I can. I suppose, being in the NHS, we are shielded from the awful truth about the cost of medications, but once you own an animal, the threat of illness takes on a terrible, ominous reality. How can  a set of pills to cure dermatitis cost £160? Oh, the insurance will pay, the vet says blithely. Well yes, I do have insurance, but that doesn't mean he should recommend anything and everything. No insurance firm is going to go on paying those sort of sums every month for ten or eleven years. I'm tempted to stop all treatment, keep the feet clean and see if nature takes care of it. Or, as an old man on my riverside walks said, He'll maybe grow out of it.

I'm told 3 men were seen digging up rabbit warrens yesterday to rescue a terrier that had got stuck on the riverside. The evidence of opened tunnels is still there. I'm surprised at how shallow they are. I thought they would have gone much  deeper. I'm assuming the dog was eventually rescued.

Spot the Father Christmases in Zermatt!

Pigeons and workload

The youngster flew into our window and either hurt itself or lost its confidence in flying. The chick wandered about our garden all day and only perked up when mum flew in. Towards dusk mum flew off and the chick must have followed eventually, for s/he wasn't there next morning. Nor was there a body, or a suspicious pile of feathers to indicate that the local cats had been at work. Breathed a sigh of relief.
Today I must do some work. I need to get my decks cleared, for I know Far After Gold is being edited as I write, and it is only a matter of time before it wings its way back to me and demands attention. I need to send chapters of the Victorian to cps, do work on crits recevied on the Regency tale, and age the heroine of the Tudor adventure and still remember to unload the washer, do some ironing and feed us both.
Vacumming and dusting? Who does those nowadays? And the grocery shop is due tomorrow. We've had some disruption in the household the last few days, but I'm aware my work rate had slowed even before the disruption clicked in. A meeting of the RNA in Morpeth on Friday was good fun and informative, but stole another day. Then there was my long overdue hair appointment, and a round of health checks looms - argh! I must get organised!