Monday 1st October 2018

A new month.

Later this month, the clocks go back, evenings will get darker, and mornings get lighter.

And I have just three days at work this week, and it seems I have a pile of stuff to do, so need to knuckle down and get stuff done so not to leave a backlog for people who are covering for me.

It is pitch dark now when we get up just after half five, and on Monday the less than half full moon shone down on St Maggies, bright, but not that bright, if that makes sense. THe village is waking up, with the sound of cattle lowing from the farm at the bottom of the hill. The working week begins.

I know I am lucky being able to work from home, having no commute, no commute time or costs, I just swatch chairs at the dining room table. Many would like to be able to do this I'm sure, but for me it's everyday.

I have breakfast, make a second brew, fill up the bird feeders as the various birds are getting hungrier and hungrier. Then I can stand at the kitchen window looking at the various finches and tits coming and going and fighting.

But work is calling, and there is the moment of dread between clicking on to open Outlook and the time lag as the weekend's mails drop in.

Sigh.

I have actual work to do, but the inbox demands attention, so I have to work through that, search for information, make calls, consult with colleagues, and by that time it is half ten and lunchtime. I make pate sandwiches with added salt and vinegar crisps and a brew.

Lovely.

At three I had to go to the doctors, my quarterly check up for my blood pressure so a new batch of pills could be prescribed. As I had been in the house all day, I decide to walk the long way round.

Via Sydney,

Via the Dip in fact. Autumn is slowly progressing, elderberries have gone unpicked and are shrivelling up now, branches no longer weighed down by the juice they contained. Blackberries are still going strong, but no full of juice, so they are not too sweet, but I try a few because I can.

Over the fields there are only a few flowers left open now, the Greater Burdock has died off and soon the storms will blow away what is left.

It is cool in the northerly breeze, so I have my light fleece on, so am warm enough. Mo pigs in the copse, no sheep n the lower pasture either. The Dip is still muddy at the bottom of the slip, ankle deep in mud if you mis-step.

I see a flash of yellow, and a Clouded Yellow lifts off from the path, I try to follow it hoping it would land and I could get a shot, but it never settles, and when it does, I go to find it on the edge of a field, but there was no sign.

Oh well.

I walk up the long steep path the other side, panting at the top, but made it.

Along the top road back into the village, past the small vineyard and then past the village pond and past the school to the surgery.

I see the nurse, she takes my blood pressure, takes a sample of blood and I am OK for another three months of pills.

I walk back down through the village, then turn past the old Red Lion, soon to be a house, and down Station Road to home, where I am met by the feline welcoming committee.

Meow.

I feed them, then as it is nearly 5, start to prepare dinner, chorizo hash, I open a bottle of silly strong Belgian beer, and I am soon singing along to the radio.

"I Wrote for Luck...."

I am just about done by the time JOols comes back home, I am down the first glass of beer, and refill it. My spirits improve even further.

Not much to report in the evening, listen to the Bournemouth v Palace game on the radio, which was a dreadful as feared, with the home team sneaking it.

Good, just glad it was over and I could go to bed.