Monday 27 December 2010

Cyril's back

A couple of pictures to keep you up to date with how nearly the barge approaches completion; the hull anyway. The Project Managers have even now started to buy paint for the volunteers to slap on (sorry. to apply carefully by small roller in the prescribed order of coats as laid down in the official painting scheme) at an imminent volunteer day.
These two shots though are of inside the hull and show a recent volunteer day where the boys (and girls) were shovelling out the three-years accumulation of sawdust, and also what will be the floor of the aft cabin (the skippers "stateroom" as it was called. In the day, these were quite luxurious being all panelled with dark wood and highly polished).
Meanwhile, we chug gently through the Christmas break not doing a great deal and mainly enjoying not having to go to work. Mum is standing at the back door on one morning idly watching the scenery, when our old chum the female sparrowhawk whooshes in out of nowhere to snatch a starling or sparrow (it happened too fast for Mum to see which) out of the top of the holly, just a quiet thump of heavier bird of prey against light song-bird, a few brief screams of consternation from the victim and it's peers and then silence as the hawk curved away and the rest of the bird population collectively gulped and got itself back together.
Also back is Cyril the Squirrel, or one of his mates, regularly visiting the bird feeders and in particular the peanut dispenser. I like to sit upstairs in the bedroom window now, keeping an eye on my territory and sometimes the little s*d is right up there with me on the sparrow box just outside my window, not 6 inches away beyond the double glazing. That seems to give him enough confidence not to flee even when I give him my best 'I'm gonna get you!' look. I end up glued to the spot twicthing with excitement but unable to do anything.
More fun is when he does scarper off down the garden fence up out of dog range but still fun to chase. The I can squeak, jump off the sill and land with a thump that vibrates the house, tear down the stairs and scrabbling on the laminated floor towards the back door, just a-hoping that there will be a human there to open the door in time before I slam into it.
All the best

1 comment:

Mr Silverwood said...

I would say there has been many the time when the doors are just not opened in time.