We were up long before the Lark. Not that I’ve seen or heard a Lark so I’m not sure what time he rises. The Woodpeckers have to have sun on their backs to be bothered to decimate my feeders.
We were out, back for breakfast and I was half way through a bowl of porridge before the first Woodpecker deigned to visit. Mrs Woodpecker is back but very wary or maybe camera shy. I really want a picture of her now. Little minx eats the food I give her and buggers off as soon as I focus the camera.
Yesterday afternoon I had a small flock of very polite birds visit. They queue in an orderly way in the Elder behind my feeders and pop down to eat a few at a time.
Long Tailed Tits. A gregarious but gentle bird. Unlike the Starling and the Jackdaw. One of the latter being brighter than the rest has learnt to unhook this feeder . All his mates line up on the fence waiting for it to hit the ground. It is great to watch as he defends his prize against all comers till he has had three or four uninterrupted pecks. Another forty pence in a birds tummy.
This morning I brushed the dogs at half nine…..I was already sparkling bright and smelling of roses.
Off we set for Morrisons to buy a bottle of wine.
I’ll be blowed! It was eight ponds fifty nine ponce. I am far from clear how many units of alcohol there are in a bottle of wine with a dinted bottom and a cork but I seem to remember Dithery Dave promising me drink at fifty or forty five ponces a unit. It may not have become a law yet. Precious little else he has promised has. Gave my ponces, dubloons and ponds to a bemused cashier. Shouldered my bottle of myrrh.
Off we toddled to the bus stop…..I needed a number 12 but a number 11 came along just as I’d fired up a rolly. The number 11 goes to town and in roughly the right direction so pinching out the fag, on we hopped. I didn’t have much choice. In dangerous places I clip the dogs together and then have them on a lead that reels in and reels out. It has a lock but it wasn’t locked so they were already halfway down the bus before I’d extinguished my smoke. They are a pair of petrol heads. Anything with wheels, an engine and an open door they are in and quick sticks.
We had a good half hour to kill in town. Sunday morning in town is paradise for dogs. Bits of kebab, cold chips, the wee puddles of half dried sick, pools of blood from a broken nose or stabbing, the odd trainer and policeman's boot…..takes five minutes a yard to get anywhere so despite only having to wander quarter of a mile to catch the number 12 we only just made it. What I call perfect timing. I would have been standing around in the cold if it weren’t for the dogs and their revolting propensities.
I am just back from my Christmas lunch. The hostess not only cooked a wonderful roast beef dinner with perfect veg, Yorkshire Puddings, Yorkshire Salad (a new one for me too) and gravy but limited herself to one glass and a bit of my contribution. After a quick and slip slidey walk with the dogs she then drove us all back home with some pressies for Christmas day. What a star.
There was me feeling sorry for myself. I am a miserable, grumpy old devil. But I had a wonderful time. I am tempted to do Christmas next week as well.
All the very best for the coming week.