Bleedin’ hell it’s been a hot and humid afternoon today, quite a change from the morning’s rain. Digging the steps out in the redesigned front garden (will do a start to finish ish post when done) had me sweating me balls off (and that’s me being polite about it). So why is the Fish posting again so swiftly I hear you cry? Truth is I’m not sure me self, Clare has nipped out to see her best friend ‘Big Helen’, the Warthog has decided that sleep is the best option after driving me mental with her antics today and there is bugger all on the box. So Smirnoff Ice in hand I thought I’d tinker awhile upon the keyboard and see what happens. And you lot thought I was just an uncouth Hobbit who drank only Cider (that’ll be the next glass then)
My aged parents popped around for a visit this morning, yep they’re still going strong with me dad full of the woes of the world and mother chirping on about my golden child of an older brother (child being the operative word). Why is it when your parents come around you always feel that all your house's short comings are under scrutiny? Dad never drinks tea or coffee here as the cat used to wander upon the kitchen worktops (it’s what they do for god’s sake!) even though she’s been gone a few years now he won’t change. So I sit there listening whilst big brother is talked about (not the awful T.V. thingy), how the government should have been labour and haven’t I finished the front garden yet? Don’t get me wrong I do love my parents with every fibre of my being, but bloody hell they could try the patience of a saint – and I certainly cannot be called one of them. Damn thing was after pawing them to bits and receiving all the fuss she could handle
had done her famous, quieter than a mouse in velvet slippers, disappearing act. A familiar chill crawled up my spine when I realised that she wasn’t resting at my feet all sweetness n light. I excused myself to the other room…. And sure enough there she was now fully engrossed in taking the heel out of mother’s best shopping shoes – bugger. Ah well exit a slightly miffed brace of parents, they smiled it off but both me and the Warthog knew they were not well pleased, not with Willow though… oh no, no, no… nope entirely my fault for not having any control of the hound from hell. Willow
So in slightly hard done mood I evicted the chickens from their abode whilst I gave it a good cleaning. Little C had provided me with yet another egg which means omelette tomorrow for me breakfast before shooting off to annoy Mr. Gray with some more irrelevant chicken questions. Little Penny is still sitting tight on her foster eggs but at least she will come out to feed, drink and deposit a rather large present of poo now without being coaxed. Even so I still try to get her off the nest and out n about for a few minutes each day as long as the garden has dried enough not to soak her feathered feet. Hopefully we may have some chicks to report on next Tuesday or Wednesday by my reckoning, fingers crossed.
This evening I’ve restarted my attempt upon world domination, yes folks I’m back selling upon E-bay so hopefully our present financial woes may well be eased a tad. You may scoff but to be honest in the past I’ve
conned erm earned some decent money from the dreaded ‘bay’ and if it helps me in my ambition to one day leave shift work behind me then so be it.
And finally any of my posts would be incomplete without a couple of pictures of you know who…. Tis time to try and introduce her to the hens when they’re in the back yard out of the coup and run. So chickens released (or in Penny’s case crow-barred off the nest)
was allowed into the access bit along side of the bungalow with only a low gate (and me drinking tea right next to it) separating her from a mauling from the two ladies. She showed interest for a few minutes but then that turned into her favourite pastime at the moment – chewing inanimate objects, namely the gate. Willow
All in all a small success but I still don’t trust her with the ladies yet, maybe never the little tyke. Hope you’ve enjoyed my basic ramblings about.. well about sod all really. Time for that cider me thinks.....
Till the next time you all take care,