Wednesday 30 July 2014

Dead Dog Days

I've found it very difficult to blog this week.  It's taken all my creative efforts to write two very short posts reminding everybody that the Bloggers for Charity auction is coming to an end (go over, you've only a day left!).

I don't know why this is.  Like many other bloggers it seems, I suffer from long-term depression.  Don't worry - this isn't going to be one of those confessional posts!  My anxiety levels are fine.  I don't seem to be particularly low at the moment, although my sleep patterns have been majorly messed up for the last month or so.  The simplest explanation, I guess, is tiredness - I must admit that I feel mentally drained quite a lot of the time.

'London Jack'

In other weeks I would craft a well-written and amusing re-hash of the BBC dead dog story, highlighting what it says about the British way of things, and ending on anecdote about how as children we couldn't go on holiday without meeting someone Dad knew on a railway station.   Today, I'll stay at posting the pic and link.

8 comments:

  1. I am the same way right now. I can't even pick up a brush to paint a lone General Wolfe figure! BTW, I have no qualms about folks elaborating on their issues. I rather enjoy reading them - or at the worst just move on to another blog. So - next time please by all means unload. Best, Dean

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  2. 86 years on the job boy they are really working that dog to the bare bones!

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  3. Black Cloud blues. They sure can hang around those ruddy clouds!
    cheers

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  4. Tiredness certainly throws me off quilter, much to the amusement of the Saintly Mrs Awdry who, having returned from her swimming, questions how I can possibly be tired when I have only been sitting at the paint table or morning!

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  5. There seems to be a goodly amount of it about at present among our little coterie. Sharing thoughts is fine and generally accepted in good part.

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  6. Loved the dog story! I must have seen one of these stuffed ones (probably the Bluebell Railway one) because they look familiar. I also remember from when I was little charity collecting boxes in the form of girls and boys for the spastics (politically incorrect term now) and the blind. I'm not saying they stuffed real girls and boys, of course, That would have been odd. My sister used to talk to them.

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    1. Yes, there was one lad (Polio?) with a leg brace.

      Didn't the RNIB also use platicised and hollowed-out guide dogs? They also used Sooty.

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