My Greek rug

No it's not a Mediterranean wig before you lot start. It really is a Greek rug. I bought it from a market stall on a Greek island nearly 40 years ago after I managed to lose my sleeping bag. How, you may ask, does one lose a sleeping bag? How indeed, one of many unsolved mysteries from those backpacking days when random odd things happened, some more pleasant than others.

Anyway, my Greek rug served me very well from then on as a blanket and a beach mat. Later, it became a wall hanging in my various houses, but it always came on holiday with me if I was taking the car and returned to beach duties. It still comes on mountain biking trips for picnic purposes, and is used in the back garden as a sunbathing platform. Which is why it was out there just now, so that my wife and I could have an hour or so of the late afternoon sun together. 

Well, I must have dozed off for a while, it was rather pleasant. I sort of came round to feel my ear being gently nuzzled, and thought "way hey, this is getting quite interesting" I pretended to be still asleep to see how things might, erm, progress, until it occurred to me that it wasn't my wife doing the licking and nuzzling at all. It was the dog. 😕

Hey Ho.