Whacked, just spent three hours cutting the grass on number two clippers, this is an army style cut and takes a lot of work. The mower developed something of a death rattle. Which may mean I’ll have to get a new one. As it stands the drive mechanism is already busted so I have to manhandle it. It is a good work out, but maybe my teeth are getting too long.
Anyway, the bunnies look happy, they always like it when I cut the grass.
Jack the jackdaw is scoffing the mashed potato from last night.
Jean Paul, the big toe on my left foot, is back to pretty much normal. It is roughly the same size as the one on my right foot now. It was goutier. No more anti-gout drugs and I can stop taking the PPI. Yippee!!
Some suit in an expensive Bentley, which sounded to be a sporty version, drove into the yard, looking around. He saw me but did not ask directions. He drove out still looking for something.
Woody is eating more of the fat balls. It is a she, I think. When she has finished she cleans her teeth (beak) on the willow. The kamikaze sparrows have started nesting in the clematis and they whizz from there within a foot of my head. They dart back and forth like lunatics commuting in the city.
One has made a nest in an unused cycle helmet in the shed.
The kestrels seem to be out and about patrolling the hedgerows. I still get glimpses of Hedwig at dusk and dawn.
Due for another visit to the chimney sweep in three weeks’ time. Only sigmoidoscopy this time and they may band my piles. The indignities of becoming vintage, they mount.
My arms continue to get shorter and my legs longer. Who put those feet all the way down there with those shoe laces? And why is all text written in microdot form?
It is a nice healthy ache…
No more weirdness, so far.