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 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.
‘You’re like a different person here’. I am not good at doing nothing. I get so excited when I get someplace new and want to run about and discover, walk the streets, sit on terraces, eat the food; soak it all up. To Jim, I’m manic. I envy his ability to sit and stare into space, nap in the afternoons and hang over gates watching sun-sets. … Continue reading The Charente.
We’ve just finished our fourth housesit on a small-holding in the Charente region of France. Now we’re old hands at milking, and this time, for the first time, we didn’t have to milk Bella. She’s a grandma now, and resting. Here I look back to our first stay and encounter with the She-Devil! Day One: We meet Bella. She splayed her legs, put her hooves on the lower bars … Continue reading Diary Of A Milkmaid.
Our latest house-sit in a converted Georgian chapel was going to be all about relaxing – watching Wimbledon, (and the test match for Jim) – writing, reading and cooking for me. The dogs are Spotty – a Jack Russell her owners say, but she looks more like a Chihuahua; and Dag (short for Dagley) a Heinz 57 variety (he does look like a Jack Russell!). … Continue reading The Best Laid Plans…..
We didn’t mean to housesit in Tokyo. We were settled in our little house in Kaminoge. But then we saw Doris the labradoodle and Lucy the lagotto on Trusted Housesitters and we couldn’t help ourselves. Maybe we were turning Japanese and succumbing to the kawaii (cute) vibe. We decamped to Yoyogi Uehara. Doris is the oldest. She knows she was ‘first’ and has a regal … Continue reading In Tokyo With The Aussie Girls.
February. We’d arranged to look after Sophie and Bobby in the New Forest. Two labradors. One golden. One chocolate. Both gorgeous. Sophie is nine. A dog with selective hearing. Always hanging back, rolling in something unsavoury, eating something disgusting. She’ll come back when she’s ready, tongue lolling, looking up at me as if she’s laughing; sticking her nose into my pocket hoping for a treat. … Continue reading Out of Season. Out of Time.
Travelling so much has it’s downsides. Lack of regularity, lack of habit, lack of roots. To compensate we establish our own traditions when we stay a while. In Cape Town, visits to the Oranjezicht City Farm market every Saturday morning became a looked forward to treat. It was (nearly) all about food. And mostly about eating it. Some even took their own plate! The raw stuff looked … Continue reading A Market Within Sight of the Ocean.
Wondering Woman 