My working week and my Sunday rest.

I love that poem. Auden.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Anyway. This is not a post about lost love. It is just a precis of my Sunday. My plans for a civilised scone and Bobbi Brown potter were cruelly snatched away from me this morning. Madam Noir (probably drunk on gin) threw herself down some icy steps and split her head open. Needed staples in her head (luckily, I hear the Frankenstien look is in this Spring). So, our jaunt to Newcastle was postponed. She kindly texted me a picture of the gore-fest that was her head. Thanks for that Madam Noir! You know how squeamish I am, and how I can't even say the words p a p e r - c u t. That X rated image sent me as giddy as a kipper.

Get well soon Madam Noir. I shall bring you comfort in the form of Mad Men Series 1 and a take-away on Tuesday night. I think you'll love Mad Men, you'll be chucking yourself down more steps next week, just to get another week off work for Series 2.

So, I was footloose and fancy free today. I checked my emails. My one-legged stalker appeared to have got the message and left me alone. He has been replaced with a very fervent Tory club DJ who wears a most unconvincing toupee. He had obviously given his opening line to me much thought.

You will have the catch of your dreams if only you grasp your destiny and get in touch x. Held off marriage to find you but you never came.

That 'you never came' line. Hmmm. Something tells me it is a line he utters often.

So, despairing of my luck with men I decided I would seek comfort in a visit to the homeless dog shelter. I hadn't yet formally adopted Cyril, so needed to do all the paperwork for that.

Whilst there I met the sweetest little whippet girl called Coco. She was close to death when the dog warden brought her in, she had been starved and beaten (fractured jaw and ribs). What a beauty she was! Thankfully the RSPCA ladies have found her a home. Otherwise I am sure I'd have been going home with 3 dogs. I had a lovely afternoon at the kennels, catching up with Gladys and Nelly (the 2 elderly volunteers). And I got to cuddle a wonky whippet.

Hardly the Sex and the City lifestyle I was imagining when I made my New Year's resolution to be more social, but a happy afternoon nonetheless.