Reading nrhatch’s post this morning brought back this memory.
A repost from 18 June last year:
My resolve to not accept any invitations this week, which would take me out after-dark, is holding up remarkably well and I am pleased that I seem to have avoided making anybody cross. The thought of seven uninterrupted days of not having to dress up is just blissful. It also means that I can spend some overdue time in my kitchen and catch up with winter bottling and canning; as well as get the rumpy-pumpy quota to a level that stops Old Spouse from dashing out to one of Lolly Jackson’s take-away shops.*
A not-so-pleasant side effect of my being home at nightfall is that I am exposed to Barking. It has become evident that most of my neighbours; their assorted backyard tenants; the motorcycle-riding boyfriends of their children and sundry delivery vehicles all converge on their respective driveways and 6.45pm. Every household has several dogs; all the dogs bark and forth at each other in excitement and soon there is the most frightful cacophony of baying and howling imaginable.
It was at this noisy juncture, last night, that The Seventh Day Adventist Man rang our doorbell. Unfortunately, our gate isn’t visible from the house-phone, so we revealed ourselves to be home before we knew who it was and had no choice but to go down the driveway to give the man R10 and ask him to go away. Further misfortune followed, when Our Lulubelle managed to get through a side door and also went – at fearsome speed – down the driveway. Mr. Seventh Day, seeing this hurtling missile of muscle, took to squealing and pelting stones; which Big Lulu thought the biggest lot of fun ever.
The upshot of it all was a bit of blood and torn trousers and we are afraid that there may be a court case. Lulubelle was scolded, for the first time in her life, by Old Spouse and taken by her scruff to sit, alone in the scullery as punishment.
She’s still in a very sad sulk and I don’t see any other way to take her frown away than that leftover bone from last night’s roast.
*REFERS TO A FRANCHISE OF ‘ADULT ENTERTAINMENT’ VENUES IN SOUTH AFRICA