A real live Easter Robin captured in all its beauty on my bird table.

Pheasant

Almshouses

I was in a friend's car when I saw it.
His mickey mouse legs carrying his beautifully curved bod dashed along the grey pavement oblivious to traffic then like the quick braveheart he was darted mad-cap into a perfectly laundered front garden.
"Oh Look" said me
"A Pheasant" said me mate with the air and confidence of someone used to the outdoors.
Giggle. I did. Never seeing one this close up before.
But before I could say 'roast' the cheery kind-of-out-of-place fella had disappeared into a bush and we, that's me and me mate, were doing thirty on our way to the countryside.

It's funny you know, how appreciative I am of little things, of small pleasures, because for the next hour or so I was scanning the side of roads looking for other interesting animals.
Didn't see any living ones:(


I do love cruising the countryside of Essex, especially the north, glorious green undulations with massive trees, medium cows and tiny Inns. So utterly English.
Greystoned churches built ages ago to thatched cottages with names like 'Elizabeth' and 'Yew Tree' stood dotted roundabout like pretty coloured pieces on a fantasy chess board.
How many laughs, tears and tulips had they seen?

Later on I had a full on close up look at a church, don't know its name I was too dumbstruck to find out, but this home of Christianity was so cool it was almost cold. Bitty rock and stones pitted and worn with years of weather and wars stood fine with a perfect sky making a good backdrop. I saw four gargoyles too, standing, which I thought was strange, standing on a tower, their lacklustre interest made for comical viewing.
I imagined...."How long have we been here?" said one "A few lifetimes, I expect" said another and THAT is what fascinates me about old stuff. The amount of life, death and bird droppings they have watched and suffered.
I wouldn't want to be a gargoyle I'd much rather be the pheasant... taking my chances...

I hope he got home safe...

Okey dokey back to reality.

Corned Beef.

:)

Birds and Pensioners

Just seen a robin going bonkers in the bird bath.
Looks like better weather for the weekend.
Going to London to see the old dears.

A List To Cheer The Heart

Things Which Satisfy My Heart

1. Laughing. Especially wet laughs where my eyes sting and I choke.

2. A good dinner. Whereby I ooh and aah a lot feeling rather smug 'cos I cooked it.

3. Compliments. Love my eyes and lips being gawped at.

4. Quietness. Like now. Just me, Monty and a nice cup of tea.

5. Bird watching. In my garden, in the street, anywhere. Love the little fellas.

6. A movie with lots of guns. But the gun user must wear a suit. Gun weilding jeans wearers are gross.

7. Jumping round the room to Tamla Motown. Impossible to remain still when 'The Four Tops' rattle.

8. Buying stuff in charity shops. I love you Joan.

9. Chums. Old ones young ones. Thin ones fat ones. Even dull ones..

10. Surprising people with winks, presents and unexpected bodily contact. But only on a Thursday.

After work I felt like walking.
So coatless I stepped up the hilly road all the way to the funny little pet shop opposite the playing fields. In front of me on my glorious amble were five, half pint schoolboys one of which was being dragged by a mud coloured dog. The dog was a gentle brute with a shining coat and big stupid ears, I don't know what make of dog it was but his wagging tail and floppy tongue made me laugh.
After handing over £2 for 4lbs of bird seed I walked out into the late afternoon sunshine. And all of a sudden I had the urge for alcohol. But being a bit broke I couldn't drop in the local tavern so I suffered all the way home.
Passing The Victory Inn was a nightmare, there were two lads leaning on a railing each holding a glass of ale and so I averted my gaze just in case they thought I was after them. I wasn't of course, I'm married and my backs playing up so... Anyway the sun was making me squint and the dribble of traffic on the Ashingdon Road was being held up on account of some nitwit being absurdly badly parked outside the sweet shop.

My turning was coming and the weight of the seeds was making me sweat, so I glanced up at the perfect sky, quickly shut my eyes and then took a big breath. In Obamaesque style I thought "I can do this" as my shoulder joints almost dislocated. I'd had a tiring day, I was up a ladder a lot of the time and had to do things with kippers so why I thought I could lug bags of budgie grub about, I just don't know.
Stupid. That's what I can be.
I limped along, occasionally glancing into neighbour's gardens and wondering where on earth they get the time, energy and money to create such Edens.
My bungalow couldn't come quickly enough and as I chucked the bags down I sneered at two fence lounging pigeons and thought "All this I do for you and what do I get?" "Pooh pooh on me Sweet Peas"

On the Horsehound menu tonight Beef Casserole and giant Dumplings
Chocolate Ice Cream
Then early night.

To Do Or Not To Do

It's no good I can't get my brain into gear so rather than write a half baked post, here's my to-do list for today.

Feed birds.
Smashing the ice off the bird bath.

Watching the Darts on BBC2. I like it very much because it's quick and exciting and I also like it when the players walk to the oche with a musical accompaniment. Love that bit. I also have a monetary interest.

Cooking lemony chicken for today and latimer beef for tomorrow.
Baking some fairy cakes.

Looking for a needle because I want to do some cross stitch. A much neglected hobby. I don't do cottages or tigers, just patterns.
Smashing the ice off the bird bath.

Sipping tea whilst rubbing Monty's tum. Then easing Monty's claws out of my tender old skin because he doesn't want me to get up.
Driving to a half empty station quite late tonight wearing a fur coat, thermal vest and yellow socks.
Smashing the ice off the bird bath...

Poor Old Girl

I simply MUST have a word.
With all that's occurring in the Horsehound house at the moment it will come as no surprise to you that I am feeling a wee bit overwrought. Indeed I felt so brittle this a.m. that I had to venture into the garden and talk to the birds. They of course dissed me as any sensible bird would, but to be laughed at by one's very own cat was just too much to bear. Yes, on re-entering the house that no good tyke Monty, ignored me plaintive cries and stuck his bonce into a plate of Sardines."Monty my son" I said "Mummy's all alone and in dire need of a cuddle". "Shut up loser" he said "Or I'll scratch your varicose veins".
He loves me really.

On a more upbeat note I do have something to look forward to this week, that being, watching my beloved England taking on the U.S.A on Wednesday. Course it's only a friendly, but I'll still put me footie shirt on and throw missiles at the telly.
I will, as with all England games, lob swear words around me front room, shoot to me size fours any time we come within half a mile of scoring and I'll definitely scream blue murder if we lose. But it makes me happy and keeps me out of the kitchen for ninety minutes.

On my rain splattered agenda today, cooking, doing industrial type things with hammers and putting petroleum jelly under me eyes on account of the rings which are present on account of late nights and early mornings.
I soldier on.

If I get the time I'll be posting some Audio. It's me reading the second part of Clive Stiffjont. I do sound terribly drunk.

What else?
Oh yes, I'm thinking, just thinking mind you, of joining a poetry club either here in Essex or in the bowels of the Smoke so as I can read out loud some of the great poems what I write.
It might be fruitful and it might even make me laugh.
Now that WOULD be worth the train fare...