Suzie and the sauce

Found this photo of Suzie. She was a pleasant dog most of the time, light hearted and quick with a joke. But when she had a feed of drink inside her, watch out, that dog could be a mean drunk...

Kill some time, Balance a ball...

Here's a quick little flash game for all out there with the edges of boredom starting to fuzz the lines of the day. Dad in particular should like this little ditty, though I doubt he would last past.. 15 seconds. The challenge has been made.

Balance Balls

Quick, they're not looking! Update!

Well, another few days pass by without so much as a whistle from Simon towards his blog. Quick recap then- worked over the weekend, and met Mum at the airport for the return journey of her little excursion to the other side of the world. And, would you believe it, my own mother is plying me with alcohol! A lovely big bottle of Jim Beam to chase away all of my ills. Must put that to good use (purely medicinal, you understand). By all accounts mum had a fantastic time, but must have liked the few hours stopping over in Manchester best of all- she came back for a second time! Just went on facebook and pinched this photo of the Twins Gordon with Mammy, taken in the warm sunshine of Donegal in December.

By-the-by, those glasses I am wearing, as well as that lovely scarf, both were lost on the same night. The scarf to a horrible cloak room attendant who took the wit and charm of Mr j. Wright and myself the wrong way, and my glasses to some thieving gippo scumbag who probably has a faint smell of eggs and permanent cap hair. I think. Was a terribly drunk night so these versions of events are to be taken 'loosely'.
Missed the footy again tonight. Most annoying- another cracking match by all accounts. Will miss the footy tomorrow night. This whole work-when-the-footballs-on malarkey has to be totally rethunk (I know I should really put 'rethought', but when I typed that word I had a real feel for it. So rethunk it shall stay).
Right-so, it is now after 1 in the morning, the rain is lashing against the patio doors, and I feel a slight tickle of a sore throat coming on. With work looming once again tomorrow, I shall take my leave of all you folk and climb the stairs to slumberdom.
Night night.

A late Adios to Pepe...

This little homage to the greatest (and possibly dumbest) dog does come a little late as Pepe left these mortal shores almost a month ago, but here it is finally. Pepe wasn't the most imaginative of dogs, nor was she the bravest, but did tick all boxes for a great and loyal friend (although would probably sell you out for a piece of bread). Following on from the last entry, I will miss trekking the fields around home with Pepe by my side, watching her jet off now and again to chase after rabbits and cows (although the bunny's always escaped, and the cows fought back).
A little 'unmotivated' in latter years, Peps still had a good innings, was much loved, and will be greatly missed by the Gordon clan. I'm sure Paul especially will miss those daily danders down to the crossroads and beyond. Like her mother before her, Pepe was a true member of the family.

THE GREEN GREEN GRASS OF HOME

Cows.
Tyrone.
Tyrone cows in the rolling hills of the largest and prettiest (well, as long as you don't think too much about Fermanagh) of all counties the north has to offer. This time of year when the trees are blossoming and the plants are... um... blossoming too, the grass looks greener, the smells a little richer and all the colours are just a little sharper. And the cows are... well, pretty much the same as always. So different from the bustling, noisy, polluted ways of the city. Must really get back for a wee bit of a holiday soon.