So, who wants to help ... to cower in the cellar?

Yes, hugs to all who are ailing.

I am confident that I shall never attempt such a feat or anything like it.

Good nights Cellarites.

Soo xx

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Gin, Soo

Medicinal Gin

Carinthia.xx

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Much improved for me Medicinal, thank you Dahlink. I hope you are bearing up tolerably ;- )

The Ma’s day, I have just heard, was greatly enlivened by a morning visit from her favourite Poodle, Danny, who was very pleased to see her, and boingy and Poodlish.

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I love the idea of a poodle called Danny …

Am still upright, despite it being Monday & I have a lower dose of HRT as of today

Me 'ead hasn’t fallen Orff

Yet…

Carinthia.xx

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Nice photo TFM.

Have you had a bit of flooding ?

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Mmm, there has been a bit of flooding recently. Only for the last 22 million years though so I’m sure it’ll improve soon.

I hope you managed to get some sleep, Gus.

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Good old gaffer tape.

And apparently no frost this morning…

yardarm

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Yeah, our council’s crap too.

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Morning all

Crunchy grass here and rather surprising blue sky with a shiny thing hanging there

It must be a portent of summat

Bacon butties ready here

Add yer own sauces

Them as wants a fried egg in their butty queue at the range

I am parked in front of it and not for moving

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[queues]
[queues again just to be on the safe side]

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I’m not certain that employing doppelgangers is in the spirit of queueing for bacon butties, Hedgers.

One lonesome bee employimg winsome grin.

Soo xx

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Places platter of bacon and egg butties on a wee birdie’s outstretched wing…

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Platter drops to floor, as Twellsy mistakes doppelganger for real Hedgers. Bee swoops in…
Soo xx

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Distraught sparrer is comforted by a second platter being placed on a table at wee birdie height…

Bee is offered fresh butties

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Grateful swoffle.

Soo xx

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Wee bees need sustrenance too and are welcome in the hovel

It seems to me to be the right thing to do - nurture all benign creatures that make my garden a joy with full sound of bee loudness as bees drowse around packing their satchels with pollen and the birdies sing their hearts out with the sheer joy of being alive

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(switches the playlist from black metal to something a bit more mellow)
[happy peckity]

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You don’t speak Bird, do you?

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Thank you. I idid. From stupid o’clock to the crack of elevenses.

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It is a subtle (Oi! Gerroff my worm!) and complex (Come and 'ave a go if you fink yer ‘ard enough) language; really its poetic delicacy (Ullo darlin’) takes years to master.

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