Sunday, 1 March 2009

Z speaks Dog

I arrived in church to find it cold. The boiler had not come on. We've been in the meeting room for the last few weeks while the weather was cold and this was the first Sunday back. I'd set the timer for the Ash Wednesday service last week, which I didn't attend as I was in London and I assumed all was well or else someone would have told me.

I supposed that the pilot light had gone out and that I'd have to wobble down the steps in the boiler house to put it right, but when I checked the time clock, it was set to 'off' rather than 'auto'. I altered it and the boiler lit up. It was less than an hour until the service and the church wouldn't heat up in that time. It would take me all the time available to move everything back into the meeting room. I shrugged, turned on the organist's heater, and decided the congregation would be chilly.

Eventually, it transpired that the Rector's husband had helpfully come down at 4 o'clock on Wednesday, found the heating wasn't on, turned it to 'all day' and then to 'off' after the service. I showed him Wednesday's time clock, set to 4.30. He was abashed, poor dear man, and I hugged him sympathetically. It was agreed that only one person really needs to take responsibility for the heating and that the control freak of the parish should be it. So I suppose I have a job for life. I mean, I'd be happy to relinquish it, but that means someone keeping a note of every time it needs altering, doing it and then putting it back afterwards. It's a 7 day clock, so we can set it differently every day, up to three periods of use a day, and only change it once a week. Obviously, some weeks it doesn't need doing at all. But I don't see anyone else remembering when school assemblies etc are happening.

Anyway, it wasn't that cold and no one complained, least of all me with my electric heater.

Ro, Zain and Claire have gone for a hearty and scenic walk around Bath Hills. I have been getting on with some work - yes, really. Al and family have been gardening and the Sage is talking lovingly to his chickens. They are being very free-range at present (their run needs to be moved as they've eaten all the grass and in the meantime they're frolicking all over the garden) so it takes ages to make sure they're all in the run at the end of the day. Tilly looked at me, quite clearly asking for her dinner early. I looked back, asking with my eyebrows if she was sure? She said she was. My eyes said she could. She looked hopeful, but didn't jump up until I took my keyboard off my knees - maybe it's my accent. Chester used to understand every unspoken word. When I got to the kitchen, I found I hadn't got any tinned dogfood. A little goes on her dried food, which is dull otherwise. I couldn't disappoint her of course, so I grated some cheese for her. She didn't mind at all.

Al and family are coming in for dinner this evening. Roast pork and chocolate cake.

13 comments:

Dave said...

So many names. So much potential for confusion.

Not that I'm ever confused, of course.

Completely Alienne said...

Are you the organist then, or did you just make sure that the heater was by your pew?

I am doing roast lamb and have the remains of yesterdays chocolate cheesecake to look forward to (and the half bottle of wine in the fridge).

Rog said...

I used to watch Wallace and Gromitt and think that the dog's liking of cheese was far fetched. Until I got a dog.

Dandelion said...

I was thinking about the potential for menu confusion, dave.

martina said...

I had a very small amount of smoked salmon left over and was just getting it out of the fridge. Amazing how fast dogs can run to the kitchen when they smell salmon or cheese!

Z said...

I'm not sure I've told you the tale of Simon and the Stilton, Rog. And yes, they love smoked salmon. Tilly also likes cucumber. But she hates crab, isn't that funny?

Get a grip, Dave. It's all quite clear. Everyone is a dog unless I say otherwise.

Yes, CA, I'm the organist. Today, I was given 4 hymns I'd never played before, 2 of which I hadn't heard either.

Dandelion, Tilly likes steak and chips too, so there shouldn't be a problem.

luckyzmom said...

We had a dog when I was a child who dug up and ate carrots out of the garden. So, my Mom planted her a row of her own and she didn't touch the other rows! Also had a dog who would spit out any peas from his food no matter how well buried.

Caitlin said...

I had a Flat Coated Retriever who could eat a bowl full of left over spaghetti Bolognaise with great enthusiasm leaving nothing but half a dozen olives in the bottom of his bowl. He didn't like them and somehow managed to gulp down the rest but leave the olives.

I also had a cat whose favourite foods were pizza and crisps (not necessarily together). He liked salt and vinegar crisps best and any kind of pizza would do.

No idea what that's got to do with the church boiler but there you go.

Sir Bruin said...

A church that I attended some years ago had a rather difficult old boiler.


She was on the tea nad coffee rota.

PI said...

Don't take this the wrong way but I can't help wishing you would take it a little easier. Wear and tear you know and sooner rather than later.
Just a little?
I know I'm an interfering old cow:)

Wink said...

Whatever happened to apple sauce?

Dandelion said...

WINK! You've come back! When are you going to do a blog?

Z said...

Dand, you're right. When are you going to start a blog, Wink? And you may not eat chocolate - people, my sister doesn't like chocolate!!(!) - but the rest of us always pair chocolate cake with roast pork.

Oh Pat, I do love you. Thank you. I am extremely careful of myself, I promise you. It's just that I tell you every movement I make, and gloss over the long hours doing not much at all.

Sir B - ooh, you are awful! But....

Caitling and LZM, Tilly doesn't care for celery or crabmeat and she won't touch alcohol, but I haven't found much else she doesn't eat. It's true though, a dog can wolf down a whole bowlful and just leave the one item behind. I gave up trying to hide tablets in Chester's food and just used to shove them down his throat. He didn't resent it, but it was a point of principle not to eat them willingly, not even in Stilton.

Back to Wink - when I started it took me ages to get readers, let alone comments (I'm quite sure that Pat - Pi - left my very first comment), but my lovely, charming and polite friends would come and visit you at once. It's horribly easy and worryingly enjoyable, even if you only blog once a week because you don't want to switch the computer on in the evening and just do it on Saturdays. It's good, really. And you meet lovely people.