|Leaning out of the back door the other evening enjoying the warmth and evening sunlight, I noticed a bird, bold as brass, sitting and gawping at me like it was wondering what on earth I was and what I was doing. I gawped back at it for a while and there we stood gawping at each other for what seemed an age before I decided to get the binoculars for a closer look.
Kestrel or owl? Let’s find out. It turned out to be a Little Owl. Blimey, whoever named this bird was severely lacking in the imagination department. I can just imagine it was some balding middle aged geeky ornithologist named Roland in brown corduroy trousers with a brylceemed comb over. I can’t argue with him about it being technically correct though because it was certainly an owl and it was little. Blimey, we don’t see many of those around here.
It was just sitting there on a fence post watching the world go by. Eventually we lost interest in each other and went about our business.
Here’s a tale from Poo Corner:
Friends on Facebook will know that where there’s muck there’s brass. Not that I’ve been moaning about it or anything but it’s just cost us £300 to get our septic tank emptied. £300!!!
The purveyors of poo turned up at 8.30 this morning with not one but TWO tankers with which to export the excrement. That’s a lot of poo. Much to my surprise I’ve discovered today that our poo doesn’t in fact smell of roses as I thought. No, there are many words I can use to describe the smell drifting round the garden but roses would most definitely not be it. Even Mrs Woofy, who stayed at our house last night and who, as we all know is a veritable connoisseur of crap, wrinkled her nose is disgust and made a dash for the car so we could get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
I can only assume that the shit shifters who carry out the dirty deed become immune to the small, as I walked down to the bottom of the garden to tell them I was leaving, they were all stood around the open septic tank chatting, drinking cups of tea and eating butties. My stomach heaved at the very thought of it.
Telling one of the neighbours that we were getting the tank emptied he then informed us that his friend would have done it for £150. “Really could have done to have known that BEFORE now.”
This afternoon me and Mrs Woofy went for a nice long, humid walk in the woods. We haven’t been there for weeks and I’ve missed it. Now that the leaves are starting to turn it’s looking beautiful. Strolling along I gradually noticed that in between all the tweetling of the little birds and the coo cooing of various pigeons I could hear an owl too-it too-wooing. Huh? I though owls were nocturnal. What’s going on, has Darwen suddenly become a Mecca for owls? Time and again it too-it too-wood it’s little head off. It made the walk so much more interesting. It’s alright strolling around with headphones on and the ipod blaring but what a lot you miss. It made my day, that (sad but true).
At this point I have to make a SERIOUS announcement;
YAY!!!! The dog has FINALLY got the idea!!!!!!
After a tragic agility class on Monday where she forgot she was a labrador and thought she was a greyhound, teararsing over all the jumps, through the tunnel and leaping off the top of the A frame, she ran round the outside of the course doing six laps at breakneck speed before stopping for an energy snack of horse poo. I of course stood watching helplessly in the middle of the arena calling out her name and feeling very stupid while the other dog owners doubled up with laughter.
At, what is laughingly called, obedience training last night she and a little beagle called Molly decided to sing a duet while the trainer was trying to speak. He asked for a volunteer to demonstrate and exercise, “a dog who’s quite good at recall and distance control.” The silence was deafening. Eventually I suggested to him that he try the next class.
It’s been a bit disheartening for the last week or two, the dog doesn’t seem to be getting the idea at all. I’ve even been considering leaving the class as it’s a bit like beating my head against a brick wall.
As if by magic the dog seems to have picked up on my mood and been decided to be good as gold. I walked a full half mile with her on the lead at the beginning and at the end of our walk and she didn’t pull ONCE!! BREAKTHROUGH!!!!!
I walked back to the car with the biggest smile on my face. Local residents must have thought I was deranged. When I got home I saw this poem. It’s a bit twee and I’ve no idea who wrote it but it fitted my mood at the time and I like the sentiment:
THE VALUE OF A SMILE
Smiling is infectious,
You catch it like the flu,
I walked around a corner,
I thought about this smile of mine,
So if you feel a smile begin,