Darker in the mornings now. Not that this bothers Bob and Sophie who hurtle out of the front door. Bob is too busy hurtling to make any noise. Sophie lets out a single high pitched yelp of pure start the day joy. Angus is reminded that dog owners have a different view on the world from serious men in dark suits.
The Old Farmer is up and about in the cool air trying to get the venerable Ford Transit motor home started. He claims to be happy, the phlebitis cured, but I can't help but notice he's using the tripod frame for support not just on his steps but on the flat ground. A trip with the Belgian lady, later in the summer, is spoken about with an imprecision regarding dates and destination.
A day for striding out across the fields. The sunflowers, recently weighed down by the heavy rains, standing straight and enjoying the bright start to the day. The PONs run ahead. At the road sign they change direction and charge at right angles into the drainage ditch. Sophie screams with delight. They disappear out of sight but after five minutes reappear higher up the hill.
While Bob explores the trees at the top of the slope his sister hurries back down the track to show me something. She has two tails - shrew possibly vole - sticking out of her mouth. A gift that simply has to be shared. I tell her to drop them. This is a cue for first one then the other to be swallowed. A simple action accompanied by a repertoire of ecstatic swallowing sounds that make it quite clear that the vole / shrew combination is a culinary extravaganza. She licks her lips and burps contentedly.
This morning on our way home we detour to the little Arab bakery.
Some pistachio baklava for lunch and some illicit honey soaked pastry crumbs for the PONs. From their reaction it is clear they've gone to heaven and are finding it difficult to come back again. They are 'encouraged' out of the front door but cast longing glances over their shoulders as we head back to the car.
Who amongst us can mirror the pleasure of starting a day with a double portion of long tailed owl kill followed by some honey soaked baklava ?
11 comments:
Bertie approves of Sophie's breakfast choices.
Hari OM
A main and a desert to start the day? Nope can't be topped!... one does feel for the old farmer and his plans... YAM xx
Sophie is a true gastronome.
I hope that Old Farmer manages to go on a little vacation. As a sprightly 84-year-old lady told me recently, some days she feels she's 70, some days 90; you have to keep up the fight.
Ah I was wondering where all those dead critters were coming from. She's good at finding them.
Mmm honey soaked baklava - wonderful. A vole and shrew ? No, perhaps not, but better than Inca's (my Lab) choice of leather straps from my sandals, which made an unexpected reappearance this morning, just as we were setting out on our walk. Not a best day ever for her - yet !
Your last sentence was exactly what I was thinking!
Thank you for the laugh. Sophie is so funny. Also it must be heaven to walk with sunflowers all around you.
Sophie sets a high bar when it comes to fine dining.
Blaklava...and FRESH! Love it, but it's usually a bit stale by the time it gets to the wilds of New South Wales.
I used to buy baklava at a Greek place on Ninth Avenue in NYC. My mouth is watering just reading about it, and I'm thinking Sophie should have a ROFH cookbook. Or perhaps a gulp-book, given how she consumes.
Baklava....slightly warm with a suggestion of ice-cream. Heaven.
There will be none of that during my week of detox in Turkey next week.
Just green salads and anemones. (Anemone is a much prettier word).
The sunflowers. Such divine, happy faces to match the fluffs.
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