kimonos and tumble dryers

The barley in the field is as high as an elephant's eye and it is so beautifully warm that I'm sitting here with the doors flung open regardless of the ducks who have come in and are chucking water around from the dogs' watering hole. It is amazing how all these animals are so accepting of one another. Now the rats have gone there is no longer the aura of a food chain in the house with all the various species and sub species. The rats, although by far the most intelligent, would be at the bottom, continuously eyed by the cats who would sit patiently by their cage waiting for some convenient escapee. They would watch them lazily as if they were a particularly good programme on the t.v. knowing that if only they could get their paws on one of them it would save them the trouble of having to tackle something altogether bigger and more vicious in the outside world. Rattus rattus can deliver a nasty nip.

the heavenly lilac fringed poppy

I loved our rats, and although they had a big cage I still felt sorry for them being in an enclosed space. They were often out of course, wriggling up someone's sleeve or hiding up a jumper. I loved their delicate paws and their quivering noses and they are loyal pets. But one would always die before the other and then you'd have to replace it, then the second one would die and so it would go on and on and eventually we had to let the last rat live on her own for a bit. Now the bottom of the rat cage makes a very good propagating tray.

At last - after several years the eremurus has flowered

A man came round to mend the tumble dryer this week. He spent hours with all the bits laid out on the kitchen floor and then declared he couldn't fix it. I don't mind, they are enormous consumers of electricity, so we shan't replace it. There is now a huge gap where it once was. May be we'll get someone  to build a cupboard, though we have toyed with the idea of just putting up a wooden door with a cat flap in so that Pocket can have his very own house between the sink and the washing machine.

some of the roses that are out in the garden at the moment

 Pixie wasn't too keen on the man who couldn't put the tumble dryer back together. There must have been something about him she hadn't seen before or perhaps she hadn't liked the colour of his shirt. When she was a puppy we were given a long list of people she should meet before she was of a certain age, people like a man in uniform, a vicar, someone wielding a walking stick. We are pretty isolated where we are so I just made use of the dressing up box and would regularly appear wearing a false beard, sunglasses, a variety of masks and hats. The kimono and the Turkish dancing girl were perhaps a wee bit excessive and she's yet to meet a pirate. But when she does - hey - she won't mind him at all. And may be next time the repair man comes I'll give him that kimono to wear.

Rambling Rector in the apple tree

With last week's blog in mind, my friend Jack sent me this poem by Charles Bukowski, who also had a man come in and mend something.

Metamorphosis

a girlfriend came in


built me a bed


scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor


scrubbed the walls

vacuumed


cleaned the toilet

the bathtub


scrubbed the bathroom floor


and cut my toenails and 


my hair.


then

all on the same day

the plumber came and fixed the kitchen faucet


and the toilet


and the gas man fixed the heater


and the phone man fixed the phone.


now I sit in all this perfection.


It is quiet.


I have broken off with all 3 of my girlfriends.


I felt better when everything was in 
disorder.


it will take me some months to get back to normal:


I can't even find a roach to commune with.


I have lost my rythm.


I can't sleep.


I can’t eat!

 I have been robbed of my filth!

Charles Bukowski