Wet and windy outside. Sophie, who is usually up by six, opts to sleep in a little later. She keeps her eyes firmly closed in the belief that if she can't see me I don't exist.
By the time we get back from the river The Old Farmer is up and about. Today, despite the rain, is a day for working on the venerable Ford Transit motor home. The brake pads are checked and the engine turned over. He informs me that he's taking it for a spin to the supermarket in the market town. ' The open road will soon blow the cobwebs away '. Angus can't help but think that blowing the cobwebs away from the motor homes interior might be a good idea. This however is probably not what is meant.
I've noticed of late that our neighbour seems to have developed strange hours. Last night his house was completely dark until ten when , suddenly, every light was switched on. 'The Font' thinks he dozes off in front of his new widescreen television and then wakes up and makes something to eat. This is a routine that is repeated through the night. Yesterday morning he had the lights on in his garage , and the Mercedes up on a ramp at five thirty.
After our chat with The Old Farmer Sophie heads off to the zinc bath under the pomegranate tree for a lengthy drink.
Windows down song of the day :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cmMYouVsXg