Rainbows

So..., there I was, yesterday evening, drying out in front of the kitchen stove after a wettish dogwalk out the back, when I suddenly spotted a rare burst of sunshine out the window. Nipped outside for a closer look (I do like a good bit of dramatic evening light) and hey presto!: a rather impressive rainbow over the hamlet. Grabbed the camera and took a few shots in the drizzling rain. Then another big cloud rolled in and the sun disappeared. Went back indoors, fed the mutts, shoved a lasagne bolognese in the oven, topped and tailed a few beans and stuck 'em in boiling water, poured a large scotch and started browsing through some old bike mags on the kitchen table. Couple of minutes later, another burst of sunshine. Nipped out again. Rainbow was back but higher in the sky due to the sun being very low. Rattled off a few more shots. Fierce shaft of sunlight resulted in a double rainbow. A really bright one. Quite spectacular. Then it suddenly faded. Went back indoors, bit wet but rather chuffed at having witnessed one of nature's splendours. Can't beat a good rainbow.

   

Cutting

Took Jock for a haircut recently. Kept his hair longish over the freezing winter months so he didn't get too chilly on dogwalks in the snow, wind and rain. Trouble is, when his hair's long it gets muddy and gets caught up with twigs and brambles. And I'm sure he can't see a thing with all that hair covering his eyes, but maybe I'm wrong 'cos he doesn't seem to bump into trees and he steers a steady course over forest tracks. Anyways, Georgie gets a bit worried whenever he has a haircut because the poodle parlour madame cut his back hair really short last time which could have given him sunburn, while leaving his undercarriage hair and leg 'feathers' quite long which meant he still got caught up with twigs and brambles. So, this time, I asked for not too much off his back and shortish on the legs and undercarriage, explaining that he was more of a yobby outdoor Westie rather than a calendar pin-up (not my exact words but she understood my reasoning). So, haircut done, Georgie asked to see some snaps. Took a couple yesterday. And took a couple this morning but they weren't so good (he shies away whenever I approach with the camera).

 Also took a shot of the front view which reminded me that I hadn't mentioned a slight change in the scenery. Local farmer has cut down a few trees alongside the downhill road across the valley. Neighbour Christian is somewhat appalled by the trees' removal and reckons the farmer's done it for purely monetary reasons, possibly to raise a few grand to contribute towards the construction costs of his son's new house which is nearing completion up past the Mairie. Could be wrong of course; Christian doesn't get on with the farmer (who is also the local mayor) so he always regards his actions with great suspicion. Personally, I think it is a bit of a shame that the trees have gone because they're prettier to look at than a road, but ç'est la vie. (Shall attempt to load before and after shots of the farmer's diligence.)

      

Latest painting

Had a few sunny days lately so I dug out my old painting gear and wandered off to the old orchard alongside the cemetery run. Took the dogs, of course, which was a bit of a nightmare 'cos they get bored easily (bet Van Gogh never had that problem). It's great up there when the late afternoon sunlight catches the moss-covered branches and the spindly smaller branches that light up almost white against the dark green of the pines behind. Absolute nightmare to paint, not only because it's all so complicated, but also because that dramatic evening light only lasts a short time. Took about five evening sessions and it's still not right, but it'll have to do.

   

Ouch!

Banged my head on a woodshed beam. Clumsy oaf. Scarred for life. Should have worn a crash helmet.

Dentist

My old dentist retired a couple of years ago. Been meaning to sign up with the only other dentist in town, but didn't quite get around to it. Fear, that's the problem. Anyways, having lost an old cap (is that the right technical term?) from one of my choppers, and having discovered a few holes in other fangs, I eventually plucked up the courage to enter the devil's den sometime last week to see if I could arrange an appointment. Charming receptionist booked me in for Thursday at 10.15am. Turned up yesterday on the dot of 10.14 and took a seat in the waiting room, reeking of peppermints. Nervous wreck. I'd been dreading this moment for the entire week since making the appointment. Even considered chickening out with some lame excuse, but decided against it. Be brave! It'll be fine when it's over! As there were three other people in the waiting room, I knew I'd be in for a long wait. Maybe up to an hour. Or more. Wasn't sure I could bear the torture of waiting that long without doing a runner. Then the receptionist came in and grabbed the next victim. So now I was third in line. With luck maybe just a thirty minute wait. Sheer hell, but way better than waiting for an hour. Five minutes later, the receptionist came in again. Brilliant! At this rate my waiting time might be down to around fifteen minutes. Quite a relief. But this time, instead of grabbing the next victim, she looked straight at me. Aaaarrggghh! No, not me! I'm not ready yet! These other two are before me! Fumbling with her desk diary, she asked the time of my appointment. Told her 10.15. Checked the diary. No, you're not in. Bit more fumbling with diary. Aha! Yes, 10.15! But 10.15 next week! And with that I made a sheepish exit and began another week of  nervous wreckdom. Nightmare.  

Spot the difference

Yuck, muck!

Snow's gone. Snowdrops, daffs and crocuses have appeared. Spring is in the air. Then down comes another load of snow. Came last Saturday night. Luckily it melted by Sunday afternoon but it served as a reminder that spring hasn't really sprung... yet. Come to think of it, the only thing in the air at the moment is the stench of cow poo. It's that muck-spreading time of year. The local farmer and his two sons, plus Christian's farmer brother and nephew, have been enthusiastically hauling their tractors and muck-chucking wagons across the hillside fields. My three regular dogwalks (out back, up the lightning tree and along the cemetery run) are all poo-infested. Slippy as hell. Dogs love it though. For some strange reason they go bananas and start running every which way with their noses surfing the ground. They even eat the stuff given half a chance. Nightmare. And the state of their paws when I eventually get the buggers back to the car! Yuck! Even worse, I have to lift Jock up 'cos his legs are too short so my hands get covered in cow poo off his undercarriage. Then, without realising my shoes are covered in the stuff, it gets transferred to the car pedals. Tricky driving with slippy pedals. Especially braking. Makes braking on the local poo covered lanes doubly interesting. Slip sliding along. Almost as bad as ice. Ah well, soon be spring. Have I said that before?

Anyways, just for Georgie who likes to know how the garden's doing, here are a few snaps of spring-type growths. Er, and the plant I bought about thirty years ago which has, so far, been carted around five homes (spends its life in dusty, cobwebby corners). Georgie re-potted it a few years back which gave it a new lease of life. Have to say I'm not exactly brilliant at taking care of the thing, but it seems to survive despite my lack of attention. Don't know a lot about whatever-it-is apart from the fact that it doesn't like direct sunlight or lots of watering, apparently. However, when I finally thought it had lost the will to live a few weeks back (during that freezing spell), I moved it away from the window and closer to the fire, chucked it some water and then stuck it in the sunshine - all the things I understand you shouldn't do. Told it to get a grip and fart in the face of adversity. Amazingly, it perked up the next day so I dusted and washed it, gave it a bit more sun (not that there was much) and another drink of water. Then it started budding and flowering. There's life in the old triffid yet. Yup, it's a tough old thing. Indestructible. Wonder if it'll do even better with a dollop of cow poo?