Are We There Yet? YES

So finally we set off Tuesday night and now I'm bringing you the latest news courtesy of Cheryls PC.

Our 12 hour drive turned into 18 hours because we missed our check in but we don't care cos we're HERE.

We are on a blow up bed surrounded by all our junk and the dust from Lawrence and Martin's last DIY with the dogs for furry hot water bottles and the cat for a bed cap but we don't care cos we're HERE.

I'll tell you all about it later but now I'm sorry to say we're off shopping, a vacuum cleaner for the dust, some coat hangers and some washing line to make a wardrobe we could of brought them but we preferred the books.

Aurevoir mon petites

And all together now

One more day to go
One more day of sorrow
One more day of this old place
And we'll be gone tomorrow

Where did that come from? Tempting fate? I hope not but if the pet passports are finally done then we're off.

Previously on Breezy Break Blog
We decide to throw caution to the wind and go to live in France
Moan about IT
Introduce the cast
Start getting the pet passports
Theorise about all the stuff we might do
Shop a bit
Wait around a lot and talk rubbish

But just wait till I am regaling you with our tales of derring do it will of been worth it all this hanging around to see if we do anything. See you on the other side folks

(fingers crossed, touch wood and all that stuf

Are We There Yet? No!

It's now day eight of the seven to ten days wait for the pet passport blood test results.

We have rung the vets three times. The first was last Friday to make sure they had the right number to ring us when the results came, the second yesterday day seven and then again today. No doubt we'll be ringing again tomorrow too and the day after that and . . .

Well lets hope not.

So a bit sparse on the news to report front. Except we are all packed up now even to the point of a ready filled (with cat litter) litter tray in Borg's huge cat basket. Just in case we don't have as much room in the trailer as we hoped the boxes have been sorted into essential and could wait for Martin to bring.

The car has been tweaked to a peak of goingness and the Eurotunnel web site is being perused hourly as we calculate and recalculate possible departure dates. I have even been dreaming about booking tickets so there is just no escape. Lawrence has been dreaming about Kung Fu fighters throwing ballroom dancers at each other I just wish he'd concentrate on the matter in hand.

Shopping and Shaolin Cat Handling

Still on the shopping in lieu of moving we again went in search of the elusive 99p blueberry bushes. No joy. Although we did see the very empty basket where they had been on sale in Sowerby Bridge which is the closest we've come.

We bought Borg a rather fetching collar in a luminous motorway maintenance green so he can't be mistaken for a stray when we move. He's trying to decide if we're taking the p***. We can tell that by the way he's laid on the sofa twitching the tip of his tail and giving us hard stares. We've put an address tag on but if we were taking the p*** we'd of left the bell on too. He complains to the management when he spots a mouse or a bird, so no need for a bell. He's also got a new litter tray with a rim on that will allegedly stop him kicking litter where we can walk on it in our bare feet.

He's been quiet the last few days since his blood test. I think he's in shock. The vet nurses had obviously trained at the Shaolin Cat Handling School. They had him out of his box, neck shaved, chip checked, blood taken and back in the box in less than a minute. In his younger days he would of showed them a move or two of his own, perhaps a no shadow kick or two complete with Bruce Lee yowls. He must be getting mellow.

Oops Heroes is starting got to go

Sea Holly is Not a Blueberry Bush

Irene is now the proud possessor of a Victoria Plum tree which we picked up from Lidl for her this morning. There was no sign of any blueberry bushes so Lawrence bought some sea holly. Well it's a plant and it's blue.

Not to be outdone in the money spending fest I bought Kitchen Garden magazine. No that's not edible either but it had a free packet of cucumber seeds on the front. Again cucumbers aren't edible according to Lawrence except maybe in Greek salads and then only in Greece.

Anyway it's my favourite magazine being that it caters to three of my current obsessions gardening, chickens and beekeeping. Theoretical of course but it's all there bulging in my head just waiting to be put into practice. Perhaps I should be buying one of those celebrity magazines though as we're starting to sound like a right pair of old farts when we're watching tv and I had no idea who half the folk were on Strictly Come Dancing. My mother has more idea than me despite only intermittently knowing what day it is.

The tree in the pic by the way is in Samaria Gorge, Crete

Pesky Crows

Tasha is well pleased with herself this morning she has sneaked under the duvet and had a lie in followed by a walk where she sorted out crows and shouted at other dogs, then a visit to Grandmas to play with the squeaky toy. As a bonus the fire is on full blast due to Lawrence being under the weather so she can lie in front toasting her belly. Her life is complete.

Crows are Tasha's pet hate. This is because she's a dog who takes herself seriously and a crow once made her look foolish. This was about five years ago, but she knows how to bear a grudge.

We were walking along by the side of the canal when a crow landed in front of her. Of course it had to be chased because Tasha's mission in life is to be in charge. It obliged by flying away as it should and Tash congratulated herself on a job well done. Unfortunately, being a crow it had a sense of humour and flew round in a circle to land behind her to be chased off again and again by an increasingly frustrated bossy little dog.

So crows are the enemy (even worse than turbo-squirrels but that's another story), whether they're seen perched on a lamp post or at the side of the motorway from the car, they have to be cursed and chased if at all possible. Pesky crows.