Street Football with a Watermelon

I went shopping on my own this afternoon after my daily swim. The better half is in bed with a cold. On my travels I picked up a beautiful organic watermelon. By the time I got home the sun had set and it was very cold. Bit by bit I staggered in with my bags. I can only do one at a time as I need the other hand for my stick. The last bag had the swimming gear and the watermelon. As I put the bag down in the snow so that I could close the car door it tipped over and Mr. Melon went for a stroll down the drive and into the street. I tottered after it taking great care on the ice and talking to it like the idiot I am.
Mr. Melon paid no mind and came gently to rest in Victoria St. Now what? I couldn't bend down to pick the wretched thing up as I needed one hand for my stick and that melon was a two hander. So we played a little football, me and Mr. Melon. Bit by gritty and snowy and salty bit I dribbled the bugger up the slope and into the driveway. We made it to the gate where I really had to work to get him over the edge of the pavement. Inch by inch I got him to the back door. By now my ungloved hands were turning white with the cold so even if I had two good legs my hands were useless. I finally got the door open, turned sideways and managed to slide him up and over the threshhold where I promptly slipped on the wet tiles. No damage done it seems to me or Mr. Melon. He's washed now and sitting on the kitchen counter as if butter wouldn't melt.
I think I'll move to Africa.

Christmas Eve

It has been a week now since Carolina has joined the family. She has a very strict routine. One is up all night painting the town red and eating everything in sight; then one retires to one's boudoir to recover until the sun sets. The cycle repeats itself. It suits Tiny Madam, though we only see her after dark when we are winding down and she is winding up. Kittens can be very tiring. She's fatter than she was ; her purr is louder and her coat is glossier so I assume she is more or less content. Loud noises and sudden sounds cause her to scarper but it will take a bit for her wild upbringing to lose it's grip. She is very neat and tidy. The litter box gets a good workout and one always grooms after dining dontcha know?
She is downstairs right now supporting the chef as he prepares the evening meal. Or perhaps she is helping my knitting along. As I said kittens can be tiring. Merry Christmas!

Once More with Feeling!

We have a new addition to our family. She or perhaps he fits in a teacup and eats like a stevedore. Her name is Carolina for the moment and she is a tiny, abandoned, totally black kitten. She was found one very cold December day wandering around Yorkdale. Now she is wandering around our house. We seldom see her, only now and again when she appears heading for the chuck wagon.We know she is here because no matter how much food is put out it is gone within an hour or two,and no one sees it go!!!. Like having a fairy in the house.
She is not averse to being petted if only you can find her to pet her. She has a very tiny purr and enjoys a gnaw or two on ones fingers.We have pictures taken during sightings to prove that she exists. She's a dream to leave alone( as long as there is food) for she doesn't want the bother of a relationship at the moment. Not like her predecessor who screamed as doors were closing. And screamed again as they opened. But then Kathleen was a woman of many words, all of them high pitched. We still wish she was here, screams or no. This little one is sweet but remains a bit of a Greta Garbo. It's hard to get to know someone who "wants to be alone..."

Neither Flesh nor Fowl nor Good Red Herring!

Oi was about a roight tasty liddle snack wi' two o' moi best mates on Tuesday when we gets to talking about the weather... as country people do.
This November we as ad nary a flake o' snow to grace ourselves with nor as moi mate put it, neither flesh nor fowl nor good red 'erring! What that moight mean in regard to the weather oi do not roightly know but moi mate is a clever liddle tacker and oi believes 'er though oi don't know about red 'errings as they sound loike they foreign muck they dish up every now and then in the local. They 'ad mushrooms last week. Narsty things mushrooms. You never knows when a toadstool moight ave slipped in. Sorry we was on about November warn't we.
Moi old Dad used to blame they Atom Bombs when the weather went off but them things is a thing of the past and roightly so. Dad was never sure about 'is liddle maids when they bombs was banging about. The milk you know.The liddle dears can't let down when they 'as nerves, an oi don't blame em one bit!
The weather now. Oi says to Mother "Mrs. Giles. Oi fear we are in the midst of Change."
"Oh aye" says Mother."Oi'm done with the Change oi am. Narsty it were. Them noight sweats were a bugger."
"Nay Mother,"oi says" not that Change, oi means climate change!"
"Aahh" ... says Mother. She is a gal of few words. Oi'm sure we is all suffering because of it. Tain't natural no snow in November, taint roight.
Well oi asn't finished with this yet.Oi will get to the bottom of it or moi name is not Giles. Oi'll be back!!