Friday 2 October 2009

Don't think we're in Kansas...

After all the frivolities of the day are over (Deer hunting, shopping, allotment harvesting etc), we (Haggis and I) finally get our proper walk. Dad has today off because under the new arrangement at work where he has to cover every 5th weekend, including being on site on the Saturday, he gets a compensatory Friday off.

The walk is still just H and myself because Meggie, whose vet visit last week involved having a chunk taken out of a front paw pad, and the opening cauterised, is not yet healed enough to be comfortable walking far on it.

We head off down the Abbey Fields towards the creek, in the course of which we meet dalmatian pup Woody, who is no bigger than Haggis, so presumably only a few weeks old, rather than months or years.

It's a warm breezy day and down along one of the drainage dykes, with cut reed-mace piled up everywhere, and bordered by a line of trees, the breeze and heat sets off a rather spectacular whirlwind. The spiral tracks over a pile of reedmace bits and suddenly we have a whirling column of reedmace bits heading straight for us. Nothing for it but to part-close your eyes from the flying straws and wait for it to whirl by.

We survived, and as far as I know, no munchkins or witches got involved, no houses flew, no cardiacally challenged lions or metallic figures, no appalling rhymes about being a "mouse" (mow-ess) and showing your prowess, and Dad was never wearing any red footwear. As far as I know, anyway.

Have a great weekend

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