Perhaps it is time to renew the blog. There appears to be an appetite among readers. Life at Regalridge has been active in 2014. There have been the usual comings and goings; the normal ups and downs of an active life and busy property. It was a less than stellar growing season with inopportune rains, less than welcome dry spells and a general lack of conditions that would support vegetables. There were, however, lots of apples. And, as Alex the grandson noted, a handful of the most labour intensive, expensive potatoes in the world. There was a focus on rebuilding kennel exercise spaces, opening lovely view planes for both people and dogs alike. What a difference. The dogs are well and content with their lives, as only a houseful of Airedales, one Norwich and one Cirneco can be. Yes, Trebia has moved in - much to Our Ken's worried look and her delight. She has taken Lee over and, as Our Ken notes, wrapped her around her skinny paw. A hound among the terriers, Trebia is quick as a wink and interested in all activity. Did you know the vantage point from the center of the kitchen table is far superior to any point on the floor? But I digress. The birds are still in residence and have developed gourmet tastes. Costco has an avian aversion from early spring through late fall. There is little in the way of seed but there are still birds to be fed. That led Our Ken to search out other sources. There are now more bags of specialty seed at Regalridge than at any store in the city. Apparently, his woodpeckers have many and varied tastes. It has been a cold start to 2014 and today is no exception. A few snowflakes are in the air, just as a reminder to those indoors that spring is a way off.
The kennel is reasonably quiet. There are few Regalridge dogs living in that lovely space and boarding dogs come and go easily. Today we are home to Jersey who is managing the large space and outdoor runs with the assistance of Gabe, Clint and Virginia.
The house crowd are happy to be inside. All are trimmed so not wanting to be outside for long periods. Billy had a moment during his wake up routine - a great roll on the couch resulting in Ken's coffee mug flying through the air and landing on the bed containing the Norwich, caffeinating the old girl and resulting in a bemused Ken. The litter of 13 Airedale puppies is approaching the seven week landmark. Vaccinations are behind them and life is just one big game. This morning, they read the newspapers and all are up to date on local events, ready for any tests that may be given. The one little male, Creighton, has finally decided that food is actually allowed to go into your tummy so seven weeks of bottle feeding and no sleep seems to be behind us. The other twelve are doing equally well, have been pronounced fit, hale and hearty by the lovely Veterinarian who brought the litter to fruition with one straw of Nick's frozen semen. Marguerite, ever the over achiever, now watches them from a distance and seems as amazed as the people of the house at the number and growth.
Meals have not fallen to the bottom of any chart. Marmalade has been made from the season's Seville oranges (thanks Cheryl Tissington) with two batches finished and two to go. Recent dinners have included a great chicken puttanesca (what could be bad with garlic, anchovies and olives), lovely tomato soup from garden tomatoes, an English rice pudding (baked with a regular custard process and water bath) and a pork tenderloin in an orange sauce. And we are on to another day.
The kennel is reasonably quiet. There are few Regalridge dogs living in that lovely space and boarding dogs come and go easily. Today we are home to Jersey who is managing the large space and outdoor runs with the assistance of Gabe, Clint and Virginia.
The house crowd are happy to be inside. All are trimmed so not wanting to be outside for long periods. Billy had a moment during his wake up routine - a great roll on the couch resulting in Ken's coffee mug flying through the air and landing on the bed containing the Norwich, caffeinating the old girl and resulting in a bemused Ken. The litter of 13 Airedale puppies is approaching the seven week landmark. Vaccinations are behind them and life is just one big game. This morning, they read the newspapers and all are up to date on local events, ready for any tests that may be given. The one little male, Creighton, has finally decided that food is actually allowed to go into your tummy so seven weeks of bottle feeding and no sleep seems to be behind us. The other twelve are doing equally well, have been pronounced fit, hale and hearty by the lovely Veterinarian who brought the litter to fruition with one straw of Nick's frozen semen. Marguerite, ever the over achiever, now watches them from a distance and seems as amazed as the people of the house at the number and growth.
Meals have not fallen to the bottom of any chart. Marmalade has been made from the season's Seville oranges (thanks Cheryl Tissington) with two batches finished and two to go. Recent dinners have included a great chicken puttanesca (what could be bad with garlic, anchovies and olives), lovely tomato soup from garden tomatoes, an English rice pudding (baked with a regular custard process and water bath) and a pork tenderloin in an orange sauce. And we are on to another day.
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