Yesterday there was a new hairwash operative. No, she didn’t say – Hitch up your bum – whilst I was sitting at the backwash basin, (as the last one did.) But she did spray water right down my t-shirt!
You either love Springwatch or hate it. I happen to enjoy the banter amongst the presenters as well as seeing the wildlife itself. The reports from Islay are especially fascinating as they chase the elusive corncrakes. It tends to be a case of here’s one we filmed earlier. Reminds me of an open-air service I helped to lead on the neighbouring island of Colonsay a number of years ago. When it got to the Lord’s Prayer, we couldn’t hear ourselves think for corncrakes craking.
Happy days!
Went to slimming club yesterday. Good value in that I gained my one stone off award; mainly due to the encouragement of the leader who persuaded me to doff shoes and jumper for the weigh-in! Every little helps.
The regular worming tablets have been duly given to the dog and the cat. Especially needed for the latter as he is a prodigious hunter. This is always a traumatic time for me, and not just because of the need to immobilise said cat and dispense the pill down his throat by means of a pill-popper. Of course it takes two people, plus towel, plus patience. The dog is fooled by a nice lump of cheese, with the pill hidden inside.
Anyway, on to the squeamish bit. I get myself into a state of some agitation as worming time draws near, and put it all down to my beloved mother (who had somewhat gothic ways about her.) I was very attached to my first ever dog – a cairn called Sandy – and he went everywhere with me, including allowing himself to be dressed up in dolls clothes and pushed around in a pram. Gothic mother obviously thought I needed some warning as to the hazards of catching worms from animals. She presumably gave Sandy his worming tablet, then when he had duly evacuated them, the evidence was covered over with a seed-tray and displayed to me with many warnings when I came home from school.
Thankfully, it did not put me off animals, but it has made the worming routine somewhat traumatic ever since. I really should write a book about mother……..she was a one off.
Yes – a woodpecker beats a merlin. And it was eating fat and mealworms, not small birds. Picture coming soon to the blog of Him Behind the Wheel.
He who would do good must do it by minute particulars.
William Blake
Thinking about removals: was Eve the orignial homemaker or was she a homewrecker? You can be sure that everything is always the woman’s fault anyway.
No – it is not our moving day. Thankfully, we expect to be based at Dalamory for the rest of our natural lives…….. Don’t worry, that is a happy thought. We are helping with the offloading end of friends. My job is to be in charge of dogs, teas, coffees and food. Him Behind the Wheel is going to be a pseudo removal man for the day.
Oh for hot showers!
The merlin has been very much in evidence over the last couple of days. It swoops low all round the house scattering the little birds from the feeders. Grrrrrrr…..
Still, I suppose it has fluffly babies to feed.
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqfFrCUrEbY]
