Hello all.....
Well, for one, I have been terribly busy. My pooch, Crownie, gave birth to 4 lollopping dollops of love.. two look like the father (the one we KNOW of) and two don't. One suspiciously resembles our cat, Bolai.
The pups were born on the birth anniversary of my grandfather, which also happens to be a dear cousin's birthday. When I informed him, post wishing, that our family had just been extended, his reaction (via text) was "throw them out!"- of course, in mirth.
They have been named Lucky, Benny, Princie and Squealer. Lucky is the eldest, and the runt of the litter. Seldom have I seen such a lazy pup! Just because his siblings push him to the side, he decides, "oh what the heck! there is enough and more to go around.. once I wake up!".
Thus, it was up to us, and the Tender Touch feeding bottle, Lactogen 1 and BonnySan. Mum and I have been taking turns, and now that he has gained a bit of strength, he has decided to get back to being nursed- except that the milk is almost depleted! Hence, the bottle does four rounds- and Crownie gets the rest. The poor thing- they have made her so terribly thin!
In the mean time, it has been announced that a cousin is getting married by the end of January. That has brought about a certain amount of excitement in the family- yet it is not so apparent..just like the pujos this time. It is not in the air- just not in the air- as yet. In the mean time pandals have been sprouting up everywhere, with various materials being used, and more than enough fire hazards being created. Yet, the feeling of it all has failed to materialise. The Determined Shopper has stepped out in spite of the rains, bargaining away in a particularly harassed manner- although it is the shopkeeper who looks dead by the end of it!
By the way, my version of the Determined Shopper- A cotton saree, killed of all starch thanks to the humidity, spectacles precariously perched on the nose, hair up in a bun, ever so slightly dishevelled, the smell of chinese food (obviously from the lunch break that they had to take in order to "refresh" themselves) mingled with some Avon/Oriflame perfume, at the very least four to five different plastic bags, screaming out their origins, and above all, the ubequitous ladies' bag, short strapped, but huge enough to hold half the World Bank in it. She stops at every crossing, surveying not the traffic but the next destination to be attacked. The traffic would find it very difficult to disobey her unspoken dictats- that they dare not move till she is safely across and attacking her next "victim". This continues... and continues. They never stop making this type.
I wonder what I shall be up to during the Pujos. With friends visiting from everywhere, I shall be busy. Will I get the time for a bit of self-introspection that I desperately need to do? Who knows? Let's see!
