It seems I took a wee bit of a blogging vacation the last few weeks. Like all the best adventures, it wasn't planned, it just sort of happened. One day I was blogging away with wild abandon, and the next thing I knew my poor little keyboard was sporting a layer of dust and dog hair. So sorry dear keyboard. Stop with the puppy dog eyes I feel bad enough already for neglecting you and my lovely, stunningly attractive, and highly intelligent readers.
Bad blogger. Bad.
I shall now punish myself by watching Justin Bieber's ProActive ad on loop for an hour. Not sure if I'll make it through the whole hour, and there is a huge chance I will develop a fugue after such a traumatic event, but it's what I am willing to do to atone.
So what exciting adventures have I been up to during my unintentional vacation? Well lets see.
I've attempted craft and ended up trying to wash the foul taste of spray paint out of my mouth. Tip for the day: don't sit downwind when using spray paint.
I've attempted baking and fallen into a blissful sourdough coma. Who knew so much pleasure could be derived from growing your own Yeast Beast? I've spent hours marveling at my bubbling fermenting brew.
(I am the bread queen)
I've weeded a one metre patch of path only to discover that my youngest dog, Freyja, has decided that this is the ideal pee spot for the past few months. I have since spent my time searing my nose hairs to try and clear the smell of old dog pee from my nostrils
I've attempted a painting only to cover my wall, window, and unsuspecting dog with paint from a flying paint brush courtesy of a madly twitching hand. I have discovered that my creative process involves swearing and insulting the paints mother. I'm sure that's how all the Great Masters worked.
I have been singing Olivia Newton-John tunes at physio and been lapped by my grey haired nemesis once more. Watch out old man. Pass me once more with that pitying smile on your face and you may find my walking stick imbeded in your silver-haired butt hole.
I have braved the feeding frenzy over the carcass of the local Borders bookstore. Swearing and trying not pass out when all the tills stopped working at once in the stifling hot store. Thankfully, I had a sub in the form of an angsty teenager who took over line duties and was then scared for life by discovering his mother was buying Anais Nin's Delta of Venus and Vladamir Nobokov's Lolita.
I have frolicked/stumbled in the snow in t-shirt and thongs much to the amusement of other locals and their 15 layers of clothing.
(Was a wee bit cold apparently)
Most of all, I have tried to ignore my petulant body and tantruming Bob, and follow the Little Engine That Could's philosophy of "I think I can. I think I can". Whilst my success may have been measured in nano-bites, it was nice to live in a land of unicorns, kittens and lollipops for a while.
As you can see I've been living on the wild side these past few weeks. Watch out Bear Grylls, I'm coming for your job. It'll be Rusty vs Wild, minus the pee drinking.
Normal posting shall resume shortly.