Granny feels lousy this morning; possible boil on very intimate bit of her backside might be reason. Has to go and get her bunged-up ears cleared later, so might get it checked. (On the other hand might not.)
Rain came and went. Only minimal, damn it. Sun again this morning. G and her Beloved still wait for imports from UK - 3 large pallets according to importers. Handsome has arrived early against (theoretical) 8 a.m. arrival. At 9 a.m. still none. They keep saying the truck is on its way, but that's it.
Crab no more frisky than Granny. Has been quiescent for days now. Is either sick or likely to shed his shell. (Possible.) Sea cucumber currently snuggled up against him. Feline Houdini agitated too - granny came down to hear hideous yowling outside back gate where he was confronting a decrepit and pregnant cat which seems to have settled on Handsome's new shed as its labour ward. (This is the theory.) It has been hosed, had tiresome terrier and beautiful wimp set on it; still it won't go. Now what? Kittens not needed!
Someone burning vines far ahead. Heaps of cuttings left in other places Beloved thinks are for goats. It's true we've seen people trundling brown cuttings around in trailers behind mini-tractors. Everything is used. Crop protection by stone walls (stone over-abundant here) - brushwood - plastic - dead rubber tyres - old wooden boxes. Bird scarers are either re-cycled plastic water bottles stuck on posts which spin round in the wind, or, less commonly, scarecrows; one dimensional wooden figures dressed in worn-out local dress complete with scarves and hats. (A woman with a mid-country garden just out of sight from us had to change her male scarecrow to female because as male it scared her dog more than the birds. Really.)
Butterfly outside my window. Not a monarch. Groan from a suffering Grannyp...xx
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