Sunday, June 22, 2008

Up with the lark . . .

Whilst you were still abed dreamin' of how many chicken legs and pots of slimmers coleslaw you'll need for this evening's Summer Solstice party - I woke up with a rumblin' tum (no relation to local chip shop).
This is a new condition for me - something I've not experienced for a long long time. Must be all the fruit and vegs I'm eating.
Could have murdered some chips tonight - but I digress . . . .

Made early morning cuppa - changed into pilates gear - spent 20 minutes on the mat - see pic which reveals me, my legs and bum in what can only be described as a questionable position.

Needed a second big cuppa' after the exercise (Typhoo Tea - 2 packs for 1 at Lidl this week - 99p).
Not bad taste - better, in my humble opinion, than Yorkshire Tea which has a deep tannin' taste tho' excellent for dyeing calico - (more of that later when I post pics of tea-dyed patchwork blocks.)

Was greeted by 'armless at kitchen door - so fed birds, filled birdbath - watered tomatoes/opened greenhouse door whilst kettle boiled.
Sat and watched the birds as I drank my tea and noticed 2 delightful baby blue-tits feeding on fat balls hung in the old quince tree. I hope they 're my fledglings returned to home base. I really have missed the blue-tits in the garden.

Garden abounds with starlings - 20 young 'uns- plus sparrows galore, blackbirds (including 2 young ones) plus many others.
It's wonderful to watch their antics - better than watching telly!

Am presently reading about world religions and general philosophy - came across this quotation by Samuel Johnson:

"If you are sidle, be not solitary.
If you are solitary, be not idle."

Now you know.

I'm off to bed with Professor Richard Dawkins and 'The God Delusion' tonight. Not the best thing to read late at night with it's descriptions of the Inquisition and other nasties . . . had to get up and have a Beechams Powder last night - to settle my nerves.
Perhaps tonight I'll dream of fluffy clouds and cherubs appearing as I draw near to the end of life's old conveyor belt . . . . . . . .

No comments: