Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Sprocket Hill

Sunny and warm yesterday. Took Hamish up to Sprocket Hill for his evening walk. Geo stayed home, doing the washing. Hamish has developed a nasty habit of disappearing under the fence and into the Sprocket Hill woods where he disobeys orders to come back. Nose down on the scent of deer he ignores all our commands and whistles. Few weeks back he disappeared for hours. Drove home without him after sunset. Almost dark. Luckily spotted him in a field on the way home. Quite by chance. Sheer good fortune. Anyways, yesterday, sure enough he disappeared into the woods. Again. Couldn't be arsed to go after him so I headed onwards up the hill. Big effort with gammy hip and walking stick. Sat down at the top. Good view. Spotted Mr. Disobedient emerge from the wood heading back to the car. Didn't see me up the hill. Whistled and shouted "oi, bastard!" and he came running up, panting. So we both sat there taking in the sunny view. Then headed back down. And home.

 


Saturday, March 27, 2021

Not a lot

Another month has whizzed by since my last posting. So, what's happened since then? Well, not a lot, nothing much, can't really think of anything worth mentioning, but there must be something. Er, ah yes, had a bit of unexpected snow a few days back. Woke up, looked out the fenetre and there it was. About an inch or deux of the stuff. Looked quite pretty but was probably a bit of a shock for the poor daffs. So there you go, when nothing much happens, talk about the weather. Or grub. Amazing how Geo knocks stuff up on our pathetic, elderly, mini 'leccy cooker with two rings on top, one of which no longer works. Keep meaning to lash out and buy a proper 'leccy cooker but never seem to get around to it. I've known mini kitchens in caravans and scout camps that are better equipped than ours. But caravans and scout camps don't have our secret weapon: the log burning stove. Works a treat for cooking. And saves on electrickery. Logs cost a packet though. We buy 'em from neighbour Christian who chops down trees from his foresty bits and then saws 'em up, stacks 'em and then sells 'em to us villagers. He presumably reckons that money does, in fact, grow on trees. Hah! 

What else? Er..., ah yes, a couple of my old chums had their golden wedding anniversaire. Married fifty years ago. Fifty years! A registry office in Victoria, if I remember correctly. Way back in 1971. I was still a student. Final year at the Royal College o'Fart. Anyways, they organised a Zoomy meeting. About half a dozen of us took part. I'd never done this before. Didn't even realise this laptop thingy had a movie camera. Georgie explained and set up our connection. All very 21st Century. The gathering lasted forty minutes. Quite good fun. I was just getting into the swing of things, knocking back the vino and making derogatory comments, when suddenly the screen went blank. Amazing how quickly forty minutes zoom by when you're having fun. Luckily my Zoomy chums back in Angleterre are still speaking to me despite my insults and mickey-taking. 

So..., what else? Er..., had another three-monthly visit to the doc in order for him to check if I was still alive and to renew my prescription. This was preceeded by a visit to the Dracula centre in Aubusson where they took a blood sample. Always tricky finding a vein. A pint! That's an armful! Blood test revealed more bad news - it's never good news - kidneys continuing to degenerate. Doc mentioned the possibility of dialysis. Said it can be self-administered at home by just plugging in a connector to one's stomach. Apparently he has an eighty year old male patient who lives on his tod out in the wilds who does self-dialysis. Otherwise it's daily trips to Limoges hospital about seventy-five miles away. Ah well, something to look forward to. And my hip joint has been complaining. Difficult walking. Bit painful. Have now bought a walking stick which helps. Especially on dogwalks. 

Talking of dogwalks, spotted Hamish sniffing a fallen tree branch in the distance. Wasn't a branch. Turned out to be a deer's antler. No sign of blood so we assumed it wasn't lost in a punch-up. Gave rise to loads of questions: do female deer have antlers, what's a female deer called (doe, a deer, a female deer, ray, a drop of golden sun, tra-la-la), will a deer die if it loses an antler, etc.? Checked the internet for answers when we got home. Turns out that deer naturally lose antlers at this time of year and they grow back. So no worries. Er, nothing else to report. Weather's improving. Days getting longer. Well, no, they're not. They're still 24 hours long. Longer daylight. Full moon tonight, I think. Er, I'm rabbiting, so I'll stop.