The day of the village Burns supper. The farmers wife is up early to collect the Haggis(es) from the butchers. The foxes are in mating season and two particularly amorous ones, noisily hard at work by the potting shed, have driven the Jack Russells insane with their antics. 'Puppy' arrives at the front door in the hope of getting an oat cake. 'Puppy' has a look that indicates she knows she's pushing her luck.
A magazine cover in the supermarket sums up what everyone in the village thinks about having Jack Russells as neighbours.
We are out of garlic, beans and Brussel sprouts. The farm shop has the first two on the list but is clean out of Brussels.
Rain one minute, sunshine the next. We miraculously manage to avoid the rain. Hooded wet weather wear is much in evidence. The university is very popular with Californians. With weather like this I can't understand why.
The Italian restaurant has again set up the outside tables and put a rose on each one. This is a triumph of hope over reality.
Angus goes for a short back and sides. It costs £8. After a £2 tip it's still cheaper ( and quicker ) than any of the towns many Turkish barbers. There is also a 'studio' at the far end of the street but this is frequented by students and the people who cut hair there are frighteningly 'hip'. With their face furniture they look rather like Spanish pirates in 1960's era 'swashbuckling ' movies.
In the barber shop window there's an old 60's era letter informing a previous tenant that the price of condoms will be rising to 85/- per gross. This has been framed and now occupies pride of place . In fact it's the only thing in the window so I guess it has more than pride of place. The lady who cuts my hair tells me, with a chuckle, that a couple of times each semester a male student will wander in and announce they'd like a couple of gross as a months supply. This is after all a university town and rugby club humour is timeless.
8 comments:
Nobby surely shares many genes with the Jack Russell terrier clan.
I always knew that forgetting can be a good thing, now thanks to you Angus, I have proof!
I really liked the artwork of Brian Wildsmith, I didn't know the book.
Schöne Grüße aus Bayern, Barbara
That puppy on the desk reminded me of my 150 pound sweet but very rascally dog. He loved to climb onto the patio table and survey his realm. He made it onto the kitchen table a couple times, too.
How long before a puppy joins your home again?
Who could resist Puppy's beseeching look? This Californian would feel right at home in your rainy weather.
Puppy has such an appealing look - who could resist her pleas for an oatcake!
I have not heard of Brian Wildsmith before but find his work very appealing.
The Italian restaurant is certainly ever hopeful in such dire weather, but I'm not sure that I'd want to sit outdoors even if the sun was shining. Somehow the sight of the wheelie bin opposite is not conducive to fine dining!
The bird illustrations were beautiful! The Doritos liquor, not so much. I hope Puppy got her oat cake.
A murder of crows led me to remembering a medieval bestiary I once had and loved. The single admonition I recall in the bestiary is something like "God would never tell His secrets to crows." We now know how super smart crows are. Brian Wildsmith's wonderful drawings capture the mysteries of the old bestiaries.
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