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todayiamadaisyI saw a poster today advertising a greyhound race meeting. COME TO THE GREYHOUND TRACK, it promised, FOR A FREE BALLOON MAN AND A GREAT NIGHT'S RACING. I love that the balloon man is listed first.
I planted some parsnip seeds earlier this year and I have been so looking forward to the results. I love parsnips. And the tops of them have looked the part: dark green and thick and leafy. It's been long enough now for them to be a decent size, so I pulled one up this morning... and didn't find a parsnip. Not one parsnip, but a, a, a Medusa's head of tiny parsnip slivers. Were they too cold, too dry, too wet, too close? I don't know, but I'm hugely disappointed.
According to a sign in the library today, this week is Bird Week, so to mark it I will write about my birds. Every morning Mr and Mrs Crow bring their two crowlets to my garden and then fly off somewhere. I am obviously providing a crow nursery service. I like this for the most part, although I am not keen on my vegetable patch being a crow playground. They are particularly fond of stomping on my lettuces and pulling up the spring onions. But I like watching them and I can always buy lettuces and spring onions from the greengrocer, so I don't chase them.
I am reading The Broken Shore by Peter Temple, which is a detective novel set right here. Sort of. The places have different names, but it is obvious that Port Munro, the village where the city detective has been posted to recuperate, is Port Fairy, and Cromarty, the big town/small city nearby, is the City by the Sea. And then it is surprising, when everything is so familiar, to find he has changed the geography slightly, so the Cromarty racecourse is near the showgrounds, instead of being on the other side of the city. It's an odd thing to feel disorientated while reading.
I planted some parsnip seeds earlier this year and I have been so looking forward to the results. I love parsnips. And the tops of them have looked the part: dark green and thick and leafy. It's been long enough now for them to be a decent size, so I pulled one up this morning... and didn't find a parsnip. Not one parsnip, but a, a, a Medusa's head of tiny parsnip slivers. Were they too cold, too dry, too wet, too close? I don't know, but I'm hugely disappointed.
According to a sign in the library today, this week is Bird Week, so to mark it I will write about my birds. Every morning Mr and Mrs Crow bring their two crowlets to my garden and then fly off somewhere. I am obviously providing a crow nursery service. I like this for the most part, although I am not keen on my vegetable patch being a crow playground. They are particularly fond of stomping on my lettuces and pulling up the spring onions. But I like watching them and I can always buy lettuces and spring onions from the greengrocer, so I don't chase them.
I am reading The Broken Shore by Peter Temple, which is a detective novel set right here. Sort of. The places have different names, but it is obvious that Port Munro, the village where the city detective has been posted to recuperate, is Port Fairy, and Cromarty, the big town/small city nearby, is the City by the Sea. And then it is surprising, when everything is so familiar, to find he has changed the geography slightly, so the Cromarty racecourse is near the showgrounds, instead of being on the other side of the city. It's an odd thing to feel disorientated while reading.