Wednesday

The love of my life said yesterday you haven't written anything for a couple of days but words do not necessarily spill out of my head at a moment's notice.  Politics have turned into 'The Mad Hatter's Tea Party' there is nothing to be said, except watch them spin on the proverbial head of a pin.

The weather remains hot though I heard a rumour of a hurricane on the way, think she is called Harriet.  Which is the name of the manager of the Sun Inn next door, they had their sign down yesterday as the sun had disappeared on it and were putting another transfer on.

Paul and Keith have finished tarting up the old notice board for our village, dug three foot holes for the post in soil that is like concrete and now it awaits Keith's artwork.  He is one of these ardent workers, going abroad every year to do voluntary work, such as Peru this year.  We are both in awe of him.

Have sourced a couple of blue Pekin bantams and will go on the weekend to collect them from the farm in Bedale, they are appearing at the Yorkshire Show tomorrow, so I hope no one snaps thems up.   It will be a bit like Lucy's claim to fame, in the fact that she has been to Portugal and lived there, though her prowess as a retrieving spaniel  was nil.  Now she is deaf, gunshot is something she doesn't hear.  But will I own prize winners?  And more importantly will Phoebe our one hen be good with two newcomers.

And I got a new 'igloo' type hedgehog house which now sits snugly under the bush out of sight,  I think our wild life must be suffering in all this hot dry weather.  No worms or insects, though there are thousands of little black beetles all over the roses.  The young badger their mothers, baby sparrows dance up and down for seed, jackdaws strut the lawn gobbling everything in sight when I throw out food, and yesterday a fledgling swallow almost crashed into me, squeaking with fright.