I have been on an English road-trip for the past few weeks, encompassing the Isle of Wight, London, Oxfordshire, Wiltshire, Somerset and Yorkshire. During the long blue hours of car-contained-day-dreaming, I decided to adopt a greyhound. Phone calls have since been made and it is likely that soon I shall be the guardian of a beautiful ex-racing hound from the now defunct Walthamstow Stadium. I am waiting for the person in charge to identify one that won’t eat our cats. It doesn’t really help that the hounds are used to chasing small white fluffy things at speeds of over 40mph. But I am sure the right one will be chosen and that it will be sprawling on the sofas very soon.
Apparently greyhounds don’t like stairs. But they love sofas to sprawl on. I don’t have any of the former (apart from the slatted ones to my eerie) and I have two big orange ones of the latter. So it is looking as if it is pre-destined.
During my road-trip I bought some shoes that have been a runaway success. They have the effect of making adults, cats and children smile. They look like steam liners due to their beautifully proportioned cork platforms and streamlined appearance. When I tried driving the car in them recently it felt as if the car was floating. Strangely at that moment no one was smiling any more. The only problem with the shoes is that I can’t runaway in them. I also have some difficulty walking in them. But when I am wearing them I attempt to glide along nonchalantly and that seems to add to the fun.
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