Oh, does the bad blogger of the year award go to me? I am speechless. I'd like to thank so many people for this hard-earned award. Thank you to Matthew, for marrying me and whisking me off on our great Romanian road trip honeymoon.
Thanks to work for firing me (and everyone else) and then employing me as a freelance editor anyway. Thanks to Christmas being held in two countries at once. Thanks to my grandmother, aunt, and uncle for cheering on the Oklahoma Thunder with Matthew and me (that was awesome). Thanks to the shower at 53 Princes Road for flooding every day, leading Matthew and me to throw in the rented towel (literally and metaphorically) and buy our own place. Thanks (oh, especially thanks) to the annoyingly slow vendor and the even more annoyingly pedantic solicitor for taking their damn sweet time completing the sale/purchase of our new house. Thanks (genuine, heart-felt thanks) to my in-laws for letting me stay at their house for a whopping six weeks, sans Matthew, while said annoying vendor and solicitor farted around with the house sale/purchase. Thanks to Lovells for being such shite builders that installing our washing machine and dishwasher became a DIY engineering miracle. And thanks to my meniscus for tearing after I tripped over a root while walking Moose. Yeah, thanks a lot for that one. Really makes things special.
OK, actually life has been absolutely amazing since I last put a sarcastic and figurative pen to this blog. But because it is my calling as sarcastic blogger to write with cynical slant, you will forgive the jaded introduction. I haven't blogged since August, people. I've got a lot of wit to pen. Or type. Whatever.
In the interest of writing a blog that covers more than the last nine months, I think I am going to write about my new neighbors. Neighbours. Look, can we just all make peace with the fact that some of my readers are Yanks and some of them are Limeys, and that my spelling is inevitably going to boomerang between the two? Yeah, thanks. Anyway, the people who live next door. They're nice, probably, but they seem not to have taken to the Moose. To the degree that we have been here just two months and they have already complained about what, to them, seems to be incessant barking. Yes, to those particular neighbors, our furry darling is a pest, a nuisance, a menace. Er...actually, that would be a pretty good description in anyone's book. But to them, he is nothing but a barking machine! We were worried about this, of course, on the occasion of said complaint. However, upon further investigation (ie. too many drinks with the neighbors who live on the other side of us), it became clear that the offending barking was, in fact, two incidents of no more than a minute each. In other words, Moose might actually have done nothing wrong. At all.
Unlikely, right? And yet...probable. Could it be that Moose is not, in fact, a black ball of pure evil? I will leave you with photo evidence, and you can decide for yourselves.
