I’ve got a box holding lots of black & white photographs, old documents and two folders, packed with handwritten correspondence. The letters contain objections and protests, raging against fines, fees and payments, written by my great uncle between the 1930s and 2000 . I may have inherited some of that easily sparked “How dare you!?” spiritedness, with added stubbornness as a bonus feature.
The current e-mail battle with our former letting agents is a recent example. It’s becoming a bit like playing tennis with horse droppings, not that I have ever done that. For coming up five weeks claims and accusations are being passed back and forth twice a week, sadly taking up more than just all my writing time. Tomorrow I can finally hand over the remaining set of keys and find out to what extent they intend to continue their shenanigans.
Other than that all is well. Youngest Ms. Bergmann, not quite yet able to speak properly, but roaming freely, is working hard on building up a reputation it seems. Within an afternoon she was first spotted feeding Wotsits to the chicken next door and later was found bonding with Luna, the puppy, sharing a packet of Skips.
The dog has gained over a kilo since she moved in (even though Skips are not part of her regular diet). In fact, she also has grown remarkably in the same time. When she’s extremely, extremely happy-excited, ~95% of the time she’s awake, her back legs often try (and sometimes manage) to overtake the forepaws, causing her to walk sideways like a crab, yelping. A truly brilliant spectacle, I recommend you try it yourself one of these days.