Quinces

In the garden, the quinces have started to fall. Mum and Dad go out with a carrier bag to gather them up, Dad reaching up into the tree, Mum catching, then finally Dad shaking the tree to bring the last few down. Even with the first few wasted by falling to the ground over the past week, we still gather 8.5 kgs. Half of this is currently cooked and waiting to be turned into jelly, the other half (which wouldn't fit in the pan) is in a bowl scenting the room.

My other pic is Dad's first Deer-in-Challock pic of 2010. Not the best pic we've ever posted, by a long way, more like putting a marker down on which we will improve over subsequent missions to the Forest. We know quite a lot about Fallow Deer but we still learned something from Ray Mears on TV last night, that Fallow Deer have the longest tail of any UK species and when you are not sure of identification, the flicking long tail is a sure marker that you have Fallows. Not critical in King's Wood as they are our only species.

The weekend sees us down at Hastings visiting the Pud-Lady where Dad's Sister in Law is doing the catering this time. Mum and S-i-L see to it that Pud-Lady is well chilled out with plenty of sherry. I manage to escape from the garden within minutes of arrival, but in coming back I give away the escape route, a badger hole under the fence. Dad meanly blocks this with a handy bag of compost.

That's it for now. No progress on the two main issues, the 'Third Dog' problem and Project Errol.

Autumn in the Garden

While we've all been rushing about dealing with Daimond's "release" and Meggie's vet visits, Autumn has quietly come to the garden. We have some lovely clumps of white cyclamen, planted more in hope than in certainty, from small dig-ups taken from the pud-lady last year. Mum and Dad had thought they'd faded and died with the up-rooting, but here they are flourishing in the wild-stawberry-y bit at the base of the birch.

We also have many roses doing a late flush after the drought and a serious amount of dead heading, and a good crop of apples (goldens and coxes) and half a dozen good sized quinces turning yellow. Also coming out is a nice clump of Sedum spectabile, actually the two surviving separate halves of one plant which Haggis liked to sit in the middle of, in his youth,

Dad has been away in Stoke for a night picking up some kind of works award (zzzzzz) but is now back, and tonight it's Mum's turn - off on a "leaving do" for a colleague. What rock and roll lifestyles we lead, to be sure.

Dad nips Meggie back to the vet's for a check up and Meg takes the opportunity to bleed onto the vet's table from her pad-scar - not before or since, just for the couple of minutes she's on the vet's table. Other than that we are declared good to go.

Have a great weekend y'all. We are eagerly awaiting the arrival of some video footage taken on the narrow boating holiday, and now saved by Mr Silverwood, to CDs. Happy memories.

Deefski

Rules is Rules

We dogs are creatures of habit - we like rules to follow, we must know our place in the world. We need a structure to our day, rythms and predictability. We get concerned when anyone, particularly the humans in our pack start doing unexpected things.

One of the best rules and structures , we think, are those surrounding when "sweeties" are dished out. If we're in the garden and we get called in, when we (eventually) come in, we are rewarded with a treat. This can sometimes be stretched to "one of us has just come in so we should all get a sweetie" but when it gets pushed to "OK we didn't actually go out because it's raining, but we looked out from the threshold and now we're back in" it usually falls over. Treats also apply if the humans are going out and leaving us.

Another is the sweetie at bedtime. This is so strict a rule it is now a "tradition". At bedtime we are chased to the back door, the door is opened with a cry of "Last Out!" and we all speed off down the garden to do our last patrols, checks and um... ablutions. The we all head up to bed and when all are assembled, sweeties are dished out, 2 each in the following order - Meg, H, Deefer and Mississippi. Felix is not part of this and not interested in dog sweeties.

My photo is of 3 very attentive westies, left to right, myself, Meg and the H-man. Missi is here somewhere but not in shot. We are attantive because it is just before our bedtime "sweetie"

Sweeties are, incidentally, only those of the dried-meat type, like Winalot rewards. The packet says "meat and animal derivatives, at least 55%" but only "at least 4% beef". Not sure if that makes them technically "dried meat" but they work for us. The other acceptable type are square "polo" mint ones which were made by hartz, but seem to be now made by someone else and come in a grey bag on the rare occasions when the local Co-op has them on stock.

All other retailed treats are looked upon with derision, especially if they contain "plant". H feels especially strongly about this, and will outright refuse any "biscuit" type treats, much to the consternation of well- meaning sweet dog walkers and little old ladies, to whom we must appear quite ungrateful. Meg will sometimes save the day by deigning to eat such offerings, and I (natch) will eat anything if I see Meg or H trying it.

May have been forgiven for the robin thing. Another robin was singing away in the beech hedge this morning, which put paid to Dad's little digs when we went out into the garden along the lines of "Hark! Silence! Listen to the sounds of small red breasted song birds NOT singing!"

My other 2 pics, as befits the Garden of England - the large pink single flower is Quince blossom, and the other is apple blossom, specifically James Grieves

Have a good weekend

Deefs