Since yesterday, granny's island has been draped in a desert haze - 'a calima' - coming not from due east as usual but from north east. The wind, which has dropped, mercifully, but is now getting up a bit, is therefore cold. Has the Sahara marched in a northerly direction she wonders? And if so what do its legs and feet look like? Or maybe it just manipulates its belly on both unlikely and invisible muscles much the way the sea rabbit/hare/slug, insinuates its way round the kitchen rockpool's glass sides.
'Muy raro' says friend and cleaner, Nieves, of this phenomenon. She further informs granny that many people are suffering from respiratory problems because of the dust.
Beloved meanwhile has been clipping chook wings. Alas, because they were acquired from a commercial source, some of their beaks have also been clipped somewhat - horrible. He hopes this will not affect their ability to peck at the ground in their free-range state. The surviving cock will have to ensure they have progeny so that the next generation at least will be au natural. As to said cockerels - it has occurred to granny that she and Beloved could supplement their income by staging a cock fight between the two - cockfights are not illegal here - and taking bets on the winner (even more reason to call them Handsome one and two, as opposed to Handsome and Beloved... don't you think, reader?) Or maybe not. Coq au vin might be less profitable but would taste nicer. No free-range blood on this land then, even if the chooks all are. Granny is pleased that these ones at least will have a much better life than their battery-penned siblings back on the commercial ranch.
Tiresome Terrier (it's assumed to be Tiresome Terrier) is in disgrace. She has dug up a neighbour's vines and vegetables in search of lizards. Not a good move among neighbours. Granny is feeling somewhat self-righteous because she has always warned that measures should be taken to keep TT from getting out.... however, contrasting her halo against her Beloved's horns (assuming it is that way round) is not a good exercise for her soul, let alone interesting for anyone to read. If her boyfriend is a TWAT, at least in this matter, so what? He is one no more than she is, is he?
Oh the generosity. the kindness, the modesty of the lady... It also occurs to her to wonder- to be Jungian - could TT function somewhat as her Beloved's anima - even as his alter ego? - does this explain his reluctance to cage her?
Incidentally. Blogger has consented to return to her proper laptap. Her head neck fingers back are the better for it. She has paid Haloscan a princely sum to get comments posted to her email. She has not yet succeeded in getting old comments back, but is working on it. Ditto inserting a referrer code, offered on some other bloggers' sites - maybe this is merely an ego-boosting exercise which could rebound on her - and be the reverse. (ie no referrers.) Um