Of Dogs and Phones

More things are lost. I lost my mobile phone on Thursday night. Fortunately I was eligible for a free upgrade, so I have a new one at no cost, but now I have to track down all my phone numbers again. (If anyone reading this thinks I should have their number, please text me!!) Unfortunately all of the phones that were on offer were hideous, so I have chosen one almost identical to my previous phone – except it's hot pink. Quite a contradiction, I know, but my theory is: I live in a house that has quite a bit of black décor, it is relatively dark in most of the rooms. There is every possibility that my phone is somewhere in the house but perfectly camouflaged. A hot pink phone will be less easy to loose. Also I realised the other night that I have lost a book my mother gave me for my 21st – The Complete Works of Shakespeare. Not a small book, in fact if you dropped it on your foot it would probably break bones. I didn't pack it, unpack it or see it during the entire moving process. Another for the list of things lost. I struggle with my materialism still. I am getting the hang of this housewife gig. The girl and I have settled into a sort of routine. The husband, bless him, is getting up with her every other morning and letting me sleep. He doesn't start work until 10, sometimes later, so often I get to sleep past 9. Utter bliss. It also means that the balance between a nocturnal husband and a child that rises at dawn is found. For a while I was stretched so thinly I thought I would snap. So life progresses, compromises are found, comfortable spaces established.
Someone who is having more difficulty adjusting is Rose, our staffy. The other night she was so depressed we thought she might be sick. Yesterday the gorgeous knitted princess seems to have gone on a tour of the backyard and has lost most of her face. Luckily there are no holes in her and she can easily be washed and repaired. Rose is currently sitting on the couch having tassels tied to her ears as earrings and being constantly cuddled. She is our own little martyr. But she occasionally looks to her master and says "when are these people going home?". I understand her stress and aren't mad about the princess. She's only naughty when under duress. My other little dog, Mollie, continues to bumble around in her dark, quiet little world. Last night she got up off her bed, walked straight into the telly (clonk), dottered around for a bit, then got back in her bed. She is a sweetie. I'm sure she has no idea where she is or what's going on. The husband calls her our martial arts trainer, as we are constantly tripping over her, having to side step suddenly or make leaps to avoid squashing her. It's amazing how a blind and mostly deaf dog has the instinct to know exactly where you are about to put your feet.
Well, the My Little Pony DVD has just been put on, I think it's time for shoes and socks and a walk to the park.