This is likely to be a rather short post.
Damp weather seems to irritate sensitive bits of my anatomy such that sitting for any length of time is shall we say, uncomfortable.
The only cure is not sitting.
England may have a reputation for being damp but New York weather at times reminds me of monsoons.
It rained so hard the other day, we almost had to pull the car over as the wipers couldn’t keep up.
Too much rain can be just as devastating as none and I count myself lucky to have never been threatened by either case.
On balance I would choose wet over dry, preferring to view a landscape that is green rather than parched, which makes me feel dried up myself!
What all of this rain means for local farming I don’t know, but our spider population appears to be in overdrive.
An arachnophobe’s worst nightmare.
If you tried to walk across the field here you would get in a right tangle.
Of course the webs are not only down in the field. Most days I brush up against one when I go round the garden.
Once, I would have cringed: “EEK!”
Nowadays I just feel guilty for ruining some poor creature’s efforts.
“Hulking great lummox!”
“Look where you’re going!”
We try very hard to maintain good relations with the wildlife.
With a little effort, I’m sure I could have Zoomer eating from my hand.
When I cut up carrots by the seed trays, very often a chipmunk arrives, right beside me.
Bending down the other day, I extended my hand slowly, whispering.
For a few moments the tiny creature debated the wisdom of befriending me.
Then rushed off squeaking into a bush.
At least it didn’t call me a lummox.
The Thrasher family are doing well.
Pigeon family dynamics get tested…
My fault, of course. Insufficient seed.
They began posturing…
“Oi! I said wait your turn!”
“Oh Junior. Now you’ve done it!”
“Clear off, Pip before I make you squeak!”
Mother the peace-maker got her family back together…
“Pip you can have my seeds.”
“He’ll never learn, wife!”
“If you let him take advantage.”
“Are you turning your back on me?”
“No husband. The woman is watching.”
“What! Well why didn’t you say?”
“She’s taking pictures!”
“We don’t want Junior on the media!”
Dad went to cool his heels.
Groundhog kept on chomping.
“Glad they don’t eat carrots.”