So, the worm has turned.  Not that I was ever a worm, but I give every chance before I become Assertive Zed (if you think of me as Zee, do carry on, but Zed it actually is).  Ben pulled me over yesterday and he pulled me over again today.  That’s enough.  Back on his Halti, though I quite understand why he hates it and will talk to Val at the pet shop tomorrow to see if there’s an alternative.  But my arm hurts, or rather the muscle behind my right shoulder, which I think is the deltoid but can’t be bothered to check, and my left hip hurts because I landed on it twice, and am grateful that it’s not my right hip that is made of china, so more easily breakable.  I’ve taken Nurofen and a whole lot of wine and am feeling tough.  Not on my own behalf, I’m a sweetie and very easy-going, but on Gill’s.  Oh, and I’ve a graze and a rope-burn on my left hand too.

Ben is a lovely dog, but he isn’t trained to my standards, and be assured that my standards are low.  Come when you’re called in your own time, don’t pull hard on the lead, don’t steal food, and know the boundaries of our land and don’t go beyond them unless it’s just too tempting.  Don’t be aggressive towards children, don’t chase chickens, recognise I’m the boss when things get edgy.   Oh, okay, not that low … the thing is, within that, do whatever you like – I’m talking about a dog here, a friend or a  husband or whatevs, there’s no question of boss.  There, you’re right until the moment I say I am right.  Then I’m right.  But a dog can do anything within those parameters, but if he steps outside I’ll be quite annoyed.

I didn’t ever say, but at the last Nadfas outing to the Manet exhibition, Angie, Sue and I – the three last chairmen – were together and talked about the collective term.  I said an assertion of chairmen.  Angie said a delegation.  Heh.  If you talked to us, you might put it the other way round.  But evidently not.  

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