And in a turn up, we managed to get all three of our resident cats in the house, locked the cat flap and smothered them with hugs and love, just to make them feel wanted. Of the three Molly is the most cautious and in sheer terror as I carried her upstairs. This will only be solved once Bowie has gone, and not sure if we will ever manage that. At the moment it seems impossible, but it shouldn’t be with a cat so handsome and loving as he is.
After work on Wednesday, we stopped off that the National Trust’s place on the white cliffs above Dover. The air was clear that we could see individual buildings in Calais, some 21 miles over the Channel. I spoke to a motorcyclist from Boston who had shipped his Harley from Newark NJ to Southampton, and has spent the whole summer criss-crossing Europe having done 17,000 miles since June.
We wished him well and went on with the butterfly hunt. My hope was to snap a mating pair of Chalkhill Blue, but failed once again to snap a pair. However, there were hundreds about, and so I spent an hour or so crawling towards butterflies trying to get as close to snap them before they saw me and flew off.
We headed back home, and it turned out I had forgotten to get something out for dinner, so it turned out that the best bet was griddled burgers. Not a bad meal at all. And for dessert I cleared the ripe fruit from the raspberry canes and shared them with Jools eating them straight from our hands with no cream or ice cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment