Funny old day. You know how sometimes things just happen around you and you go with it? Richard has just texted to ask me if I’d like to go for a ride out when he gets home at 1.00 pm? Sounds romantic doesn’t it? I’ll have the stallions brushed and waiting, frothing at the mouth, chomping on their bits and off we will go, galloping towards the distant horizon, me girlishly giggling and Richard hanging on to his privates to avoid permanent damage. Ha ha. Blame the migraine medication. I do. I have to or else I’d really think I was barking.
No, we will go for our ‘ride out’ in the car. There will be an ulterior motive as to why he has suggested this ‘ride out.’ It will probably have something to do with coincidentally passing a Land Rover bits shop on the way and he will just quickly pop in for something. He said we could also have lunch out if I fancied it. Well if he thinks we are visiting the McDonald’s drive through he can think again. I refuse to have to witness him slurping his way through another caramel sundae!
I woke this morning to one of the chucks going berserk. Her extremely noisy tones vibrated through the 5.00 am morning air. I knew she wasn’t announcing the arrival of an egg. Perish the thought. All egg laying and anything remotely helpful to the shopping budget has been shelved whilst they have their poorly/resting episode. The only thing coming out of their butts at the moment does not require verbal expansion. I had a good look out of the bedroom window and after a moment of two a tortoiseshell cat, the size of a small bear, waddled down the path next door. This is a new cat on the block. I haven’t seen this little (huge) girl before and obviously neither had the chucks. Feeling for the neighbours, I went down and out into the garden and reassured Dust that it wasn’t a bear, it was a cat and that it had now sloped off. Have you ever reassured a chicken? No? I thought not. Again, we will blame it on the medication …
I didn’t see any point at all in going back to bed so I had a bit of a tidy up in the bread cupboard. I know most people have a breadbin but we eat rather a lot of bread and bread type stuff (waffles/crumpets/scones/crap in general) so we need a cupboard allocated purely to bread. I came across the tin with the fruit cake in it that I’d told Richard he could finish off. I’d made the cake over a year ago – no, it was OK – a rich fruit cake, injected with enough brandy and sherry to put a small person on his/her back, so there was no way this cake was going to go mouldy.
I like to keep a couple of fruit cakes available and brandied-up and then if a birthday or similar sneaks up on me I can whip out a cake and ice it. This was the last one and as I say, been around for a while, so the other day I put a bit of icing on it and told Richard we would eat it ourselves. I had a couple of pieces but frankly I didn’t like the under-taste. It tasted er … stale. And I think the glacé cherries were a bit suspect. They stared through the sultanas with a very dim eye. So I told Richard that he could finish it off because I was gong on a diet. Normally when I tell him something like that the cake is consumed within hours but this little fruit cake wasn’t so I brought up the subject last night and said if he wasn’t going to eat it I was going to throw it out for the birds. He just looked at me. I got the message. Poor thing.
‘You don’t like it, do you?’ I said.
He looked at me, weighed up my mood and then gently shook his head and said, ‘er…it’s a bit …dry. NICE but …er dry.’
So I threw it out on the roof for the jackdaws. Before I’d turned back towards the house the sky had darkened and a dozen birds landed on the roof. I watched whilst they tested the cake with their long beaks, tossing it here and there and arguing about who was having the biggest piece. It obviously appealed to them because they rammed it into their beaks and took off back to their nests to feed their young. I just hope no baby jackdaw had a mind to leave the nest today because I’m not too sure they would be flying very straight. They are probably all rolling around in their nests, stoned and singing rude songs. Not too sure what all that fruit is going to do to their digestive systems? They’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. Richard has survived what he’s eaten but then he does have the digestive system of an ostrich.
Off to get ready for my ride out – and to chase up Chea. I haven’t seen her for the last two hours. I do hope a stoned jackdaw hasn’t landed on her head …
Take care my lovelies x