Friday, September 18, 2015
A bright and breezy morning. The temperature down to a bracing 11 degrees. We see a flock of swallows, maybe a hundred of them, darting back and forwards over the ridge. They must be congregating before heading off on their annual migration to North Africas winter warmth. Another of the years comforting routines.
After their morning walk the PONs take up position on 'their' table. This is an excellent spot to monitor the comings and goings of workmen. Bob remains silent. After a minute Sophie's patience is exhausted and she lets out a shrill yelp. This is a sign that she'd like the workmen to acknowledge her presence.
The wind picks up. Sophie soon ends up looking like a tumble dried vision of frightfulness. Bob looks like Bob.
By tea time the builders have finished replacing the roof tiles damaged in the big storm. The gutter men have repaired the down pipes. The Rickety Old Farmhouse should now be warm and dry for the coming winter. I'll close up the pool on Monday. The PONs have spent a large part of their day playing ' throw the Furry Fox ' with the morose lads. They are happy. The morose lads seem equally happy .