Where do butterflies go?

Where do butterflies go when there's a howling gale with torrential rain and a hailstorm with hail the size of marbles? Good question. Anyways..., so, after yesterday's glorious weather I was looking forward to more of the same today. Sure enough, all went well 'til mid-afternoon when a few clouds sneaked in from the west. I didn't notice at first 'cos I was wasting time surfing the internet. Then I twigged that the sun had disappeared from the wall behind my laptop. Opened the window and felt a few raindrops. Then a gust of wind heralded a bit more rain. Nothing serious, just a quick shower. Wrong. Thunder. More rain. Torrential. Howling gale. Shut window. Hailstones. Noisy. I could hear them battering the car port roof. Big buggers. None of your cissy little jobbies. These ones were causing bedlam to the cattle in the distant field. Serious stuff. Lasted for a good twenty minutes. Then it calmed down a bit as the storm moved east. Eventually emerged from the house for a check up. No obvious damage but next door's veg patch had taken a hammering. Spuds had been flattened. Crunched over the hail-splattered lawn to view the distant cattle. They seem to have survived, even the tiny calves. Then noticed Georgie's bins were full. They were empty this morning. Gave Hamish a quick walk out the back, then dished out his grub. Poured myself a vin rosé and sat in the evening sun. A couple of butterflies fluttered by. Which reminds me, where do they go when...?

Hot

Sweaty old day yesterday. Must have been way up in the 30's. Spent most of the day indoors. Late afternoon ventured down the supermarché to stock up on vital necessities: vin rosé, chocolate and half a dozen bouteilles d'eau. Took a bit of time to get into the car though. Steering wheel and seat were way too hot to touch and Hamish had jammed himself under the car in the cool grass and wouldn't budge. Eventually set off and parked up. Left three windows wide open for His Lordship - couldn't do that back in Blighty but it's fairly normal out here. Did a quick lap of the supermarché while enjoying the cool air conditioning then wobbled back to the car. Gave His Nibs a short meander in the shade of the car park then bundled him into the dogwagon (much against his will) and set off for the hills and home. Arrived back at HQ where the rabid mutt immediately headed for the shade under the Alfa while I lugged the goodies indoors. Made a cuppa, did a bit of this and that, then realised it was after six. Didn't feel like it though - that's what happens around the longest day. Time for walkies. Dragged the grumpy dawg from his shady refuge under the Alfa and flung him into the smelly and very hot Citroen dogwagon. Set off for Sprocket Hill then remembered that the entrance was fenced off so the farmer's cattle could munch that field's grass - at this time of year some fields are for munching while others are for cutting and haybaling. So, plan B: the Cemetery Run. Parked up in the shade of tall fir hedge and set off. Still very hot with the sun nowhere near the horizon. Welcome shade of the track by the old orchard. Loads of flies. Onwards past the tall trees to where the trees end and the sky opens up. Into the field dotted with new hay bales. A couple of hawks flew off their distant bales to return later for mice spotting. Hamish gave chase but ended up weeing on a bale or four. Then got bored, or maybe too hot, so we headed back, passing a field of very hot cattle. Maybe they were too hot to check out Hammy, and maybe he was too hot to give 'em a woof, so nowt happened. Returned to the car a wee bit hot and bothered and headed for home. Hamish immediately sprawled in the cool grass outside the front door - the sun was now around the back, while I prepared his grub and poured myself a cool rosé. Sat outside while the farmer loaded haybales in the barn by the church using his elderly diesel tractor. Can't beat the sound of an old tractor with the waft of diesel and freshly cut straw while viewing a clear blue summer's sky through a glass of chilled rosé. Then felt a bit guilty 'cos Georgie's over in London 'til Wednesday and I'd been tasked with watering some plants. Did three can's full then sat back fattygayed. Nice flowers though, whatever they are. Took a few snaps. Then went indoors and boiled some spuds. Ooh, it's all go.