Lucy Inglis

And I've yet to try on the trousers.

People asked to take photos of me and WH. Like absolute hounds (and one person has even sent me an email!) Man alive, it's a jungle out there.

Long story short, Last year I bought a load of factory clothing from 1930s Nîmes, still bundled up and in the original starch. In the street. I love them, and today, walking WH 2 people stopped me to ask where I got my jacket. Plus one more yesterday. Hashtag accidental hipster.

'We now set ourselves' So, I did my first ever Edinburgh festival in August, and it was … exactly how you imagine.

'We Now Set Ourselves' lucyinglis77gmailcom.substack.com/p/we-now-set...

Stepfather post stroke has become evermore brazen with the table feeding and we have tried to stop it, so now the pair of them have gone into 'stealth mode', which ... is not that stealthy tbh, but it's Small Gains Farm at the moment.

WH, no sense of play at all. Sense of humour, 100%, but play, nothing. Also, they aren't toys, as you well know. They don't have to 'play' on command.

Li'l Houston sun puddlin' as all the best girls do after the Sunday walk and the Sunday lunch.

You too!

If it's ok with you I would like to share an interaction about my book, Born.

All dogs are the best dogs. They want to be the best dogs. It's only the humans who let them down.

It is not your fault that they don't play. They can't do it. So do not punish yourself if your rescue dog looks at a toy as if it came from Mars. Maybe they will rewire, or not. Either is fine. It's taken us 6 years to get WH dog to swim 2 feet. She's still the best girl.

Brief reappearance from the depths - just want to say that if you have a rescue dog and they don't understand playing with toys, or play in general (Whitney doesn't), it's not you, it's the previous shitty owners. For the first 2 years of their lives. You can't take that out of them.

Yes.

The One About the Parrot This is two Lincolnshire stories in one, so strap in, if you like.

The One About The Parrot open.substack.com/pub/lucyingl...

The Ed Murrow Wires and Lights In a Box never gets old on this.

Oof, pals, the book is in the wild in the US soon, but it seems they may like it.

She came to the launch, full cheetah (I think), she has an array, and looks fantastic. No interest in anyone's bullshit, hoving down the the high street.

Hatton Garden Karen now only wears Zara pjs, leopard, zebra, and has fully embraced the look. It's marvellous. With the Tom Hardy swagger on.

It was super. x

Watching our tiny Yorkshire mother, order exactly what she wanted in a Barca restaurant, and eating it as if the devil was at her heels was the very best present I could have given her.

It was fab. I made Mum visit the prison, which is insane, and my childhood friend Dan works servicing mega yachts, so we almost got to wave at him as he left. Went up the Calatrava.

The next night I said I had a list of places to eat and Mum said, May we go for tapas again? To the same place? Sure, it's your holiday.

Mum has no Spanish, but her French is good when she gets going. Is it ok for me to have another one of those? I said, Mum, it will keep coming until we pay the bill, that's the only rule of tapas.

I said, there's no menu, you point and shoot, whatever you feel like, get at it. 45 minutes later, Mum was the tapas queen. Mum is SO polite that it was a bit hard for her to grasp at first, but once at the helm, no stopping her.

Off we went, to Barca. I booked us a double room in an old town house, and our room was the old ballroom on the first floor. It was lovely. Mum hadn't done no frills Barca tapas before and all the little plates arrived and it was chalked up on the piece of paper.

You have to gun it, but no stranger to that. Said to Mum, what would you like for your birthday, and she said, I'd love to see Barcelona. I don't want 'things'.

One of the things I love with this house, is that you can get up, put your pedal to the metal, and be in Barcelona for lunch.

Yes. The house will knock at me and Mr I says only ghosts but still knocks.

There will be something in the house that needs attention. Could be anything, so I have to find it. And I know I sound like a loony, but now I have suited up and have to get in the caves (cellars).

We also have creaking and sighing. Knocking means something is up. I do not know who or how the knocking works, it only means you have to get on it.