We have a regular house-sit within sight of the Pyrenees. On stay-at-home days, slow is the name of the game. Caramel, the cat without a miauw, scratches furiously at our bedroom door, clawing the wood. I can almost feel it splintering, as I lie there, eyes wide shut, hoping he’ll stop and grant us a little more rest. Nelson, his brother, attacks the scratching post … Continue reading Slow Mornings and Rituals: Life at Pyrenees House Sit
A short drive away and we’re on to our next house-sit. Someone said to me once, ‘Why would you travel all that way to walk someone’s dog?’, but house-sitting is so much more. It’s comfort and companionship, a tiny peek into different lives, a chance to live eyes wide open. It fulfills my need to stay awhile, to live like a local (I know I’m … Continue reading A Little House in the Pyrenees-Atlantiques.
An everyday Paradise. We’re surrounded by fields and woods, sky and space. There is a house next door and we can put out a hand and touch their barn, but we hardly ever see them. We hear their cockerel crowing, and see their sheep grazing. But there is nothing to intrude upon our feeling of being little lords of the manor. We are here to … Continue reading Still in a French Country Idyll.
We don’t just look after dogs and cats. Sometimes there are sheep and goats. We’ve had guinea pigs and rabbits and fish, and once three little piggies. And often there are chickens. Not many people would consider a chicken to be a pet, but on a sit in Wales I had one of those world-within-a-world moments, and a whole new chicken-centred universe opened up before … Continue reading Chicken Talk.
I have just finished an online learning course on the Book of Kells. It was offered for free and I wanted to stretch my brain. And stretch my brain it did. In fact it quite bent it out of shape. A whole lot of facts to ponder and wonder over, and, rather surprisingly for a religious work, an inordinate number of cats prowling through the … Continue reading Cats and the Book of Kells.
You know you’re a house-sitter when you see a painting of a dog in one chair, and a girl in the other, and think ‘oh no, how sad’. Mary Cassatt’s girl does look a bit fed up. One of the perks of house-sitting – there’s always someone to share the sofa! Some let you drink your first cuppa quietly. Others perch stylishly on the edge. … Continue reading Couch-Sharing.
A place to call our own. For three weeks at least. We only had to share it with Coco, Derecha and Maisie. ‘We’re in the campo’, Jackie told us. We’d imagined Alora as a quaint little village, cobbled streets falling down a hillside. Don’t know where we got that idea from. Must have been the mention of ‘pueblo blanco’ that did it. In reality, Alora … Continue reading House-Sitting in Alora, Spain.
We came to the Charente in the hope of warmer weather. But the rain followed us from England. What to do? Eat. George and his James Bond villain stare. ‘Give me more biscuits or I kill you’. Play. Max lost out in the game of musical chairs and begged to play ball indoors instead. Sleep. Charley dispelled the myth that cats go out on the … Continue reading Things To Do In Pillac When It’s Raining.
We have just completed a house-sitting in the delightfully named Buntingford – it’s as if the flags are always out, and the town is in a permanent state of excitement – but, in spite of it’s name, we were not looking forward to our visit. Previously, Sophie and Bobby, our two Labrador charges, lived in the New Forest. (Out of Season. Out of Time.) When … Continue reading Buntingford.
We spent the British summer (grim, grey and shower after shower) in Weymouth, looking after the gorgeous Harley and Tully, and Batman the cat. (I cannot think of Batman without that soundtrack running through my head). The dogs were gorgeous cocker spaniels; so pretty with ruffled ears like flowing locks. Tully, small and nimble, golden like soft brown sugar. Harley, always with a lopsided cheeky … Continue reading Oh, I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside.
Wondering Woman 