Friday 24 July 2020

100 Days - 51st Empty Nest

I have been brooding and feeling sorry for myself because it has rained the entire of July and so I have still not had to christen my red watering can, and the snails have been feasting every night on the clematis flowers, and I found one snuggled up in a courgette flower yesterday morning, despite them being surrounded by crushed eggshells as a deterrent  The pond is filling of its own accord but we have not been back for more plants. I want to post some nice before-and-after photos of the yard ... but I want it to be finished, or something, and the gate is too damp to paint it and there is not enough break in the rain for it to dry out. We had a fab trip to Chester Zoo on Tuesday, but Tish has all the photos. 

I got up this morning to an empty nest. I missed the youngest, Captain Tom, taking his maiden flight by mere moments. 
This afternoon they have been back and forth, with mum and dad still providing the fish.
Ospreys are amazing.

We had a queue outside the office mid morning today because apparently google maps said we were open 7-11am. The P739 card says to go the royalmail.com for opening times but who are we to argue with google maps, so the manager told Steve to open up and serve people. I mean, stupid people who don't read the card have been turning up at random times for the last four months and have been told to go away, but the gods of the internet decided we were open so we opened. 

I went to the library and got a nice book about creating a wildlife garden, though it is mostly full of stuff that I can't do. Hulme library is not open yet but the one near work is so I can get stuff there. Small steps in the right direction. We have masks, we can go to the shops. Tish's favourite place will be open at the weekend. Monkey and Toby are playing volleyball in the park, though probably not in the sports centre till September. Monkey passed her first year at uni. Life goes on. Not sure why I still feel so disconcerted.

Stay safe (no promises about next posting) (and not beating myself up about it).




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