15st 10lb, 8.0 units. It was lucky that I took the opportunity for that long walk in the sunshine on Saturday, as the weather yesterday proved to be rubbish, contrary to the encouraging forecast. Accordingly The Dog and I managed nothing more than our usual circular walk from the house; the one that used to take me a straight hour when I first acquired a Border terrier in 1991, and could be completed in 55 minutes if there was something unmissable on the television when we got back. Now it takes 77 minutes every time, even if we don’t run into the nice old lady down the lonnen [Northumbrian: lane] who likes to engage us in a spot of conversation while she kindly feeds The Dog a couple of biscuits and gives me one of her Werther’s Originals. Though it is fair to admit that The Dog does always slow down on the approach to her cottage and find something to sniff for a suspiciously long time right outside it, in the hope that she will appear. So that must account for a good two minutes of the additional time, leaving only a quarter of an hour attributable to my galloping senility.
The weather was better today, but for once I had some work to do and could not manage a long walk. Looking to the back of the house, though, I did notice that Cheviot had acquired its first snow of the winter. Surely not an auspicious sign.
|The Cheviot from My Place: with added snow|
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