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
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
Gin, Soo
Medicinal Gin
Carinthia.xx
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.
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
Nice photo TFM.
Have you had a bit of flooding ?
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.
Yeah, our council’s crap too.
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
[queues]
[queues again just to be on the safe side]
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
Places platter of bacon and egg butties on a wee birdie’s outstretched wing…
Platter drops to floor, as Twellsy mistakes doppelganger for real Hedgers. Bee swoops in…
Soo xx
Distraught sparrer is comforted by a second platter being placed on a table at wee birdie height…
Bee is offered fresh butties
Grateful swoffle.
Soo xx
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
(switches the playlist from black metal to something a bit more mellow)
[happy peckity]
You don’t speak Bird, do you?
Thank you. I idid. From stupid o’clock to the crack of elevenses.
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.