Wind and Rain

The heat wave is finally over. It turns cooler and rainy, and has Mum firing up the central heating again. We are quite thankful of this, as Dad has us all clipped to 5mm - lovely in the heat! Dad is quite thankful for the rain, and can finally barrow trays and trays of kale, kohl-rabi and cabbages up to the allotment and stick them in, with their own little bunny-proof fence.

It's also more pleasant out walking. We don't mind a bit of drizzle, it's the heat slowing Megan down, that we notice mainly.

It's raining baby starlings. Just as we're up and about this morning, and Dad lets us all out the back door to sprint down the garden, a new fledgling starling takes the opportunity to jump from the long box in among the Albertine rose. More like a controlled plummet than a real flight, he slides down the air to land among the box shrubs at the foot of the bay tree, squeaking excitedly. 3 westies are suddenly upon him, and Dad hotly upon them.

He dives under a box and freezes - sensible move, as the dogs lose sight of him, and Dad can get a chance to scoop him up. Dad puts him on the garden fence facing outward (no dogs that side next door!). Sure enough he tries that flying thing again, this time with a bit more lift, and whirrs away across that garden to safety. We all hope he is re-united with parents and by now (4pm), getting fed and ready for his first night out of the nest.

Nearly a very short look at freedom!

Deefer

Rough Winds do Shake....

...the Darling Buds of May

Every walk these days seems to take us through the allotment. Dad is worried about a rather tall stand of broad beans (Yerk! Meggie likes to eat them raw, and sits down at the feet of anyone stripping them from their pods, hoping that the fingers will be less than dexterous and the odd bean will ping out of the basin and onto the floor.). He is amazed that they have got this far without being smashed down by wind and rain. They are October plantings, so they're coming ready and "we" have had the first crop off them. Rain on it's own they can take, and wind on it's own, but if they're heavy with rain and get hit by wind, Dad ends up fighting to stand them back up with canes and string, rescuing pods from the mud. We don't mind going that way - it's a nice walk

The 2CV is sick, so we must have a visit from 2CV-Llew (The Doctor). The fuel pump is kaput. Llew has a superb long-haired Jack Russell called Rosie, whose crowning glory is a great quiff of spirally hair on the top of her head.

Dad comes back once more, smelling of Hugo the Dane. We believe he has been consorting with Hugo's family (especially as Dad came home also smelling of Battenberg cake and M+M flavoured American cookies). You'll get fat and spotty, Dad

Mum is buried in her studies, armed with a nice glass of merlot. I am harrassing the cats on the spare bed.

Deefs