She’s been in front of that box on the table. She presses a button and lots of paper come out-zz, zz, zz. I think it’s pictures of me! She folds them and puts them in little paper things. Venus watches as she takes them up the stairs. We hear the ladder dropping from the ceiling. The boxes are coming out. Venus smells woolly things and I hear bags rustling. This means Pat is coming. Pat comes and gives us cuddles. Pat gives us food and he calls us “My girls”. He brings his case down and puts it by the wooden door. She says, “Oh good, my case is ok.” She pulls her suitcase downstairs slowly. She’s wearing skin. It’s sunny. She looks hot. I hear Pat’s special noise, tink tink. I hear it when he is near his noisy thing outside. I bark and run to the fence where he pats my head. We go in our crates. They are all talking and Pat makes a tink tink sound. Everything is quiet. Pat will be coming soon!
Me-what did I pack for the sad funeral of my close family member, visiting friends in the south, west and north of the UK plus assisting family after the joyful birth of their second baby during three weeks of December? I rolled up synthetic mix dresses and separates to mix and match. They wash and dry without ironing. In the dry cleaning bag is my black velvet suit bought in 1978. I have worn it to eight winter funerals. This time, as well, I wear it with evening or daytime tops. Leather jackets, skirts, trousers, waistcoats and boots are versatile and warm but heavy so I wear them when travelling. Not all at the same time although I have been tempted to save weight!
A snowy city view of Newcastle, UK taken from inside The Baltic cultural centre
Stellar and Venus take squeaky duck and squeaky bone to Pat.