The Eagle, I mean chickens have landed...

            Good afternoon readers (er reader?), another rota of the ‘grind’ finished and once more I return to the land of the living, although still feeling a tad like a cast member from ‘Dawn of the Dead’ to be honest! Now do not be expecting any bumbling apologies for my lack of blogging because it is not going to happen – time, the ‘grind’ and a wife’s chore list waits for no man so you’re just going to have to make to with less frequent ramblings at the moment and be bloody grateful for just the odd snippet whence time allows.

            So apart from the mundane cycle of life what news has dragged the Fish away from his perpetual and never ending to do list back to his keyboard? Well today is the first day after the bleedin’ last day of the ‘grind’ which traditionally means that the Grumpster is usually in residence and bugger all is achieved.  A ha but there’s that word ‘usually’, for today the Grumpster is strangely absent and ‘Mr. All is well with the world’ is in resistance, happy days. The last block of days off were filled with decorating the bathroom (well doing the bits that Clare trusted me to do), completed the chicken coup, drinking the odd bottle of cider (naturally), and having the Warthog’s walks confined to the evenings.

            And why the mad, headlong, rush for the completion of the chicken coup? Ahh tis because today I had myself a wee trip to see John Grey and pick up me two chucks, happy days indeed.

            So please excuse my tardy posting of late (damn it, was not going to apologise!), I hope to enter a longer post in my days off this week as, even if I do say so me self, I do have some rather splendid pictures of the evenings’ meanderings to share and a few thoughts upon the difference of walking at dusk instead of the early morning or midday as is my usual habit. Oh go on just the one picture to tease then….

Until later, take good care my friends,

John