Honourable mentions for Hufflepups

Am I crazy enough to go to Dundee just for a dog show? Yes. Yes I am. 

And better yet, so is my brother, so Maisie came too!

Missy is a true Hufflepuff - fiercely loyal, full of endless love and devotion, and prone to being a bit niave and, well, she will never live down being rescued from a tree. Maisie is a slytherin. She's clever and cunning, has her pawrent wrapped around her little dew claw and has sass. Endless, tail swishing swagger full of sass. 

Dont let that pout fool you, there is a dark lord behind that underbite... 

My brother was too old for the Potter craze and so whilst he knows of it, it's not his cup of tea usually. In fact, he originally declined the invite then decided to take me up on it purely so he had an excuse to say no to overtime at work! 

So we went along. We paid in, entered through Platform 9 3/4 and browsed the stalls before going over to the main ring. Both girls went in for Best Witch (didn't place) and then Missy went in for Best Robes (she lost to Hagrid and his German shepherd come hippogriff). Then Maisie went in for Best Pureblood and guys, it finally happened, she may not have technically placed, but Maisie got her first ever ribbon as an honourable mention.

Truth be told, my brother was utterly smitten. Missy placing 3rd in Best half-blood paled in comparison to the achievement of our favourite pouting princess. By this point the rain had started and, on the drive back, we discussed highlights and lowlights. We both agreed a burger van wouldn't have gone amiss, and some human stalls too would have been nice. We were also both taken aback by how much fun the theme added. The fancy dress was all Potter themed (the angel winged golden (retriever) snitch being a highlight) as was the decor, which added to the party mood of the day. I was very pleased when my brother added that he would go again next year if he's available. 

Can't give higher praise than that! 

Till next time! 

A Break From Pillaging

Last week's blog went out before I had time to write up Sundays adventure to the west coast for Largs Viking Festival. We went day 2 of the 10 day event which culminates in a long boat being burned as the Viking raid is reenacted and it was an excellent day all round. 

We got there early and parked up nice and easy at a sneaky car park a colleague had pointed out to me. Seeing as we had to creep around effectively abandoned cars for five minutes on approach to the holy grail, I was very pleased for the "locals knowledge only" as the car park was empty. Then we toddled over to the Viking village which was basically across the road. 

The village was well made and had the usual highlights we expected and some more, including rune reading, a midwife tent, a bard and demonstrations of viking board games. Ironically, what it was missing was warriors - they were all stuck in Spain, a rebound from the airport controls going out at the start of the week.

That was OK, I've seen plenty of skirmishes and, with my sister officially part of a reenactment group, I'll be seeing plenty more in the future as I fully intend on bringing my war dog down and supporting her. (Missy was dressed up until about 1pm when I decided it was too warm for her, and she got a lot of compliments). 

The one thing I was super excited about was not held up in Spain - the have a go dragonboat sailing. After getting my warpaint on we eagerly awaited at the docks. We knew Missy wasn't going on, and our friend had kindly volunteered to wait with her whilst hubby and I sailed and she would then go on the next sailing.

Well, I'm gonna get it out there, I'd make a terrible slave. I took on a rowing position, partly to sit by the hubby who wanted to give it a go, but mostly because no other volunteers came forward. And I was terrible. My timing was spot on, but I could not get the arc of the turn right as the oar weighed a ton - a kindly viking took hold of the end of my oar and provides the added oomph I was previously lacking.

15 minutes later, after a turn about the harbour in the glorious sun, we were back on dry land to a delighted Missy. I had been correct in that she would have no desire to follow us into the water, but she refused to move and watched the boat like a hawk. Hubby was delightedly regaling the trip to our friend when it was noted that someone hadn't turned up for thier booking. He joked about another go and I was a viking widow as he was invited back on. His rowing skills were significantly better than mine!

Missy disapproved of this too and simply lay down to watch, keeping me company as I took photos. He was forgiven by us both on his return and we made our way back through the craft stalls to the village. 

A superb day. 

The title of this blog comes from a work conversation. I had thanked my colleague about the parking recomdation and, as we waited on a call later in the week, he asked if I was going again for the boat burning.

"No, I'm taking a break from pillaging this weekend" was my joking response, just as another colleague joined the call and I was greeted with a:

"A break from what?!"

Handing in my resignation next week! 

This weekend has been a quiet(ish) one. Saturday I caught up with a friend and today was meant to be dressmaking. However, it devolved into chip damaging 6 different projects and finishing none. I was caught in the long awaited downpour on the afternoon dog walk and that was the end of my productivity. A shower wasn't enough to get heat back into my sorry bones, so a bath it is. Which has made me realise that I'm absolutely burnt out - whikst there is talk of adventures next weekend, I might pass on them for take 2 on a quiet one...

Until next time!

A Giant Adventure

It's been quite a week! We set off over the big blue wet thing and, after 2 hours of sailing, set foot in Northern Ireland.

Despite the visit itself being planned for quite a while owing to my dad's failing health, the exact itinerary was sorely lacking. This meant that we winged things on a day by day basis, which was oddly enjoyable. 

Day one was simply travelling. We stopped at my dad's, introduced Missy to his 5 (yes, five) dogs and were treated to dinner. We were then surprised with a birthday cake for my hubby who's birthday had been the day before. 

Our first stop was the Giants Causeway. This has been on my to-do list for some time and I was pleased to finally get to see it. Missy, who is part mountain goat, managed the large basalt hexagon pillars with ease whilst we followed behind with far less grace and confidence. The visitors centre was enjoyable, although as it was free as a national trust member, I am skewed in my judgement there! The tour was definitely a highlight of the day. My dad and his wife did join us at the causeway but the visit was short owing to a sudden downpour and my dad's poor mobility making the stones uncrossable. Typically, just as they gave up and got on the bus back up, the sun was back out again! 

Wednesday was Belfast. We started the day at the Botanic Gardens. Of all the Botanic gardens I've visited, this one was the most dog friendly we've visited

(Edinburgh doesn't allow and Glasgow permits on the grounds only, not in the greenhouses). 

The weather was in our favour as, after a cool start, the sun came out and Missy was soon sunbathing whilst I tried to catch a photo or two of the bees that were bumbling about. 

We then went into Belfast and, parking at the Titanic exhibition (which does not allow dogs, but is on the Maritime Mile and offers relatively cheap parking) we set about the next leg of the adventure. Whilst not allowed in, there was plenty to look at outside the Titanic building. 

The Titanic was built in Belfast. Hubby, being a Dundee kid, was quick to joke and compare it to the Discovery - the infamous ship of Scott and Shackleton that he grew up by that couldn't be stuck in ice, that then got stuck in the ice. "At least we got ours back!" He quipped, in his best put on stereotype Dundee accent.

Perhaps something spiteful was listening as we hit our first hurdle. We knew we were on it, but where exactly was the Maritime Mile? We walked about. We looked for signs. Nada. I went on the website and found that it was meant to have an app which was no good as we didn't have headphones and then I finally got the map to work. We were off. 

It's a nice wee walk. The Game of Thrones stained glass trail overlaps some of it and we wound our way around some Maritime history. Highlights were the massive iron bouys and the old light from the lighthouse. Worth doing - but maybe bring headphones to get the full experience! 

Then we started what turned out to be the highlight of the day - our Black Cab Tour of the political murals and a crash course in the Troubles. It had been recommended to me by a work colleague and, after emailing them to double check thier dog policy, was delighted that Missy was allowed to come. (For those wishing to follow suit, I would message in advance and they will try and accommodate you with a driver who is happy to have a dog in the cab). 

I had trucked back and forth to Ireland twice a year as a kid through the 90s and the tour really helped solidify the strangeness of my childhood to my hubby. He'd heard of the murals, but had never seen the scale of them. He'd heard of the mob mentality, the every day violence but it wasn't until he saw the 45ft "peace" wall that it really sank into him that it was, and as the gates close at 6.30pm every night, still is a, a grim reality for many. Being a private tour, we got to ask questions we felt would have sounded niave (what's the deal about the poppies, being one my hubby asked after I had made an absolute song and dance that Missy was not to have anything poppy related upon her (short answer being it's a political "flag" that you are, or aren't, part of the tribe).

Absolutely recommend, I can't say enough - the driver was great with Missy, tailored the tour to a level we both understood, and was very insightful and balanced about the two sides. 

Thursday was the dogs day. With a two hour sailing looming ahead the following day, we wanted her well walked and tired. And so Divis and the Black Mountain was selected.

It was a... adventure for sure. Weather was a bit dull, but fine for walking until you spotted the cloud that sat over the peak. We pursued the walk anyway, hoping the clouds would move on. 

They didnt. 

But that didn't spoil anything. Missy enjoyed a good sniff and a trot about (except when we spotted cattle and had her on lead) and, after 2 hours, returned to the Airbnb for a cup of tea. I had snores in stereo as both Missy and Hubby passed out from all the fresh air. Like all the other days, we saw my dad that evening and, sorting through his military paraphernalia that he wants to see going to a good home, listening to his army stories, was an oddly poignant and cathartic moment for me. Whilst I still decline to share details of his health, I'm more at peace about it.

We spent the last few hours of our time in Ireland with my dad at the St Georges Market. He, and his wife, are veritable magpies, and it was a delight to join in on what was obviously "thier" thing: breakfast in the restaurant and then a potter about the stalls.

And that was us. Back in the boat and back home. The last week already a distant memory. 

I'll leave it there for today, the blog has gone on quite enough, and I will share with you the stunning views from atop Black Mountain. Until next time!