Fa venire l’acquolina in bocca

 After walking the dogs, I slept heavily until 3pm

I must have needed the sleep , for a woke cuddling Albert which never happens when we are both conscious. 

Subsequently I’m on catch up.

The place looks like Coventry after the bombing. 

Having a new puppy is like having a toddler without a nappy and this compounded with night shifts mean than the cottage looks, well rather grubby.

I drove to Sainsbury’s listening to the seven minute Last Resort by The Eagles 

And sang it all the way through.

I bought healthy

Mozzarella, Basil, huge organic tomatoes and a small Italian ciabatta. 

Chic Eleanor caught me by the fruit aisle and peered into my trolley

“ Fa Venice l’acquolina in bocca” she purred

She’s taught me that phrase before.

I came home and made proper coffee in the Moka pot. 

I gave each one of the dogs a pigs ear ( Dorothy always has two as her mouth is bigger) and I’ve got, I reckon a good 15 minutes piece until they start demanding again.

I pour my coffee and sit at the table 

I need a few minutes to write my blog and chill.

There’s a Trelawnyd Community Association meeting at 5.30 and because of the brief rain we had everything feels humid and sticky.

I need a shower too

But not before coffee and kitchen table time.

Dorothy kicks the cat flap in a diva anger strop and I let her in. 

Villager Jim is standing outside the cottage on two sticks 

I haven’t seen him since before lockdown. 

He wasn’t well then

We chatted for a while 

“ Apparantly I have  early onset Alzheimer’s John” he told me

“ You remembered my name after three years” I reminded him

“ Oh yes I did” he said rather pleased with himself.

Roger threw up his pigs ear onto the patio and Dorothy gleefully sucked it up.

I took my coffee and ipad into the living room, pigs ear smell is revolting

Winifred’s Rubber chicken lies forlorn on the carpet.

And from the kitchen I can hear Mary chasing Roger outside in order to bark a welcome to another passerby. 

Nothing is still except the chicken

I may light the log burner tonight

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Tiny

Tiny Tim's real name was Herbert Khaury. He was born in 1932 and died in 1996 after suffering a heart attack onstage at a gala benefit show in Minneapolis. He was in the middle of his umpteenth rendition of "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" sung in his familiar falsetto singing voice with simple ukulele accompaniment.

In the early sixties he was part of the Greenwich Village music and arts scene in Greenwich Village, New York and was friendly with Bob Dylan who had just blown in from Minnesota. Later he met John Lennon who said of him, "He’s the greatest ever, man!… the greatest fella on earth!”

I first encountered Tiny Tim in the late summer of 1970. I had never heard of him before and there he was on stage at The Isle of Wight Festival singing incongruously and joyfully his most famous song and the vast crowd joined in with him. "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" was first a hit in 1929 after featuring in the film "Gold Diggers of Broadway" but Tiny Tim claimed it as his own...

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