Off the egg rack

     Phew, I’m off the hook – or egg rack to be precise.  My mum found them, the Easter eggs, in a little drawer at the top of the big chest, same chest where she stored and forgot the Christmas wrapping paper, stupid woman.  She calls me thick but I reckon it was only reading this blog that reminded her they may have been somewhere in that chest.  I expect I’ll get a reward (please, an Easter egg, please !!) for my efforts in solving this eggstremely worrying puzzle.

Now you know I’m at bootcamp because of the painting (gather it smells just AWFUL) and the change of venue seems to be helping my knee, nothing at all to do with no running.  The vet seemed to be somewhat on my wavelength and didn’t prescribe any pills so I don’t have to resort to subterfuge and spit them out (can separate them from even a smoked salmon treat) when my mum’s not looking.  She does have insurance for me so that she won’t have to do without shoes or handbags if I ever have to have expensive treatment.

The sunny is shining and it’s hot – nap time in a cool spot, I think, then I might tease the Irish aunt’s cats a bit.

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