More on Maxwell

What kind of a sleeping position is that, Maxwell? Are you sure you are not letting the cats get away with a bit of mickey taking here?
Actually it’s a dog eat dog world out there and a boy has to learn fast how to survive and how to write a good email. Blimey – the chap is only 10 weeks old and he’s nearly as good as me.

“HELP!!!!!” (He writes) Baby R has me tied up in the top tower of her play house and when not there I am being guarded by Thomas the black and white cat and Jasper the white cat, who I am beginning to think is either really rude or just plain deaf. No matter how much I bark at him he just blinks at me, unless I get to close then I get a scratch to the nose, they keep saying something about white cats with blue eyes but I'm not buying that I think he is just rude, SEND HELP NOW, PLEASE”
Don’t kid a kidder, Maxwell. You wouldn’t come away with us even if we did come out and try to rescue you. You wouldn’t get out past Em-J, J-M and M Silverwood!
Maxwell continues, “Just a point to note as well, the basket is actually MINE, the cats (Thomas and Jasper) seemed to take to MY new dog blanket, but I did put up a fight when they tried to take it over completely.

Attaboy, Max! C*ts – we’ll show you what to do with them, when we’re over!
Deefs

Thomas

Mum and Dad have finally finished the Village of the Year judging tonight, finishing on fine form with the very impressive efforts of one village (no names, no pack drill) in wrestling back their local chunk of ancient forest from industrial-scale fly-tipping, herberts on quad bikes, 4-wheel-drive nuts and trials riders.

Dad is slightly ashamed to admit that he may now be a holier-than-thou judge, but was once that mildly irresponsible Land Rover nut, member of the All-Wheel-Drive-Club (AWDC) and keen "Green-Laner". OK he was never that brave, and never had all the knobbly tyres and winch equipment that the serious boys have (Just good old Dunlop Town and Countries), so he used to stick to the easy, dry-ish stuff, but he did like a chunk of off-roading, so got tarred with the same brush as the "ripping through the sphagnum bogs" brigade.

They are walked round the village by the main-lady (Vanessa) and her goldie "Thomas", and shown the chalk grassland, the restored paths, the new coppicing, the 4WD-proof gates, the signage, the orchid meadows, the areas that used to be piled with 100 tonnes of tyres, builders rubble, burned out cars etc, the 400-year-old rights of way, the kissing gates and new fencing, the bridle ways re-built by the Royal Engineers, the planters full of drough-resistant plants and on and on and on.

There's still time though, for a walk for us, up round the allotment where Dad has to give the newly planted yam-slips a second settle-in watering. There are a bit of fun. Really a tropical plant, you can just about get away with them in Kent if you get them as cuttings (slips) in June, keep them warm, and then plant them out and keep watering through the hot waether. They are related to the bind-weed (Convulvulus) and that's exactly what they look like at present - little spirals of bindweed seedlings just emerging, only with stems a bit thicker than the UK weed version.

Deefski