Well Enough

Jul 07, 2016 19:09

Have just spent a week away in the midst of cat-sitting for Snowy the Slayer. Of course, I spent that week tudoring and dancing so there also had to be a cat-sitter for the cat-sitter at this point.

Snowy is a lovely black cat who likes to sit on you in the most inconvenient manner possible for as long as she possibly can and, when she's not doing that, she's out bringing death and destruction to the small and squeaky/squawky in the surrounding countryside despite carrying enough bells on her collar to supply a Morris side. Presumably many a small rodent or bijou bird has been in the process of thinking 'Bloody hell, not another Morris dance...' before meeting it's doom. Either that, or everything within a 3 mile radius is profoundly and inexplicably deaf. Anyhow, I have spent most of the mornings cleaning up little dead bodies and trying to catch the ones who are mobile. (Apparently, once they're through the kitchen door they stop being her problem and automatically become mine judging by the off-handed way she just abandons her catch on coming through the cat-flap). Still, it's nice to borrow a pet.

Holiday-wise, I spent the 1st weekend dancing with Mortimers at Braunston Boat Festival. Despite a mixture of torrential rain and blazing sun, I had a lovely weekend and we should always dance out with Sheffield City Morris as they are lovely and awesome. I buggered up my ankle on the Saturday so didn't manage as many dances as I would have liked but, by Sunday, my hobbling around had buggered up my other ankle as well so they balanced and I was able to dance (Note: This may not have been a responsible medical decision but, I got to dance so all is well).

Having finished dancing on Sunday afternoon (with the slickest clearing of the dance floor to let an ambulance through you have ever seen. We knew it was coming back through and when the caller blew the whistle, we just vanished which apparently was a bit of a surprise to the band...), I trundled my way off to Kentwell (and it was a trundle with 2 lots of camping gear in my little car) to find that I had just missed the epic rain which had caused the duck pond to flood and flow through the potters. I always miss the truly epic weather at Kentwell and, frankly, I am more than happy with this.
Had a lovely week, riding horses that are far to wide (overweight Suffolk punches are one hell of stretch!), skipping using one of the rope long reins, chasing sheep, singing songs ion the Bakhaus, going on a plant walk, discussing rapper (obviously) and being passed somewhat garbled messages by children who were being charged with various missions by ebee (Who I've finally managed to have a proper conversation with. Rapper, obviously) up at the house. I particularly liked the 2 bairns that showed up at the stable yard yelling for 'Mistress Bess', one of whom informed me very solemnly that some fancy lady in a big red dress would like to ride in the morning whilst her brother, whose mission was to say 'hello' to Rosie (the most elderly, doddery horse in existence), on finding that she was out in the paddock, waited patiently by the gate for ages until Rosie finally gave in and came up to see what he wanted. You've got to love that commitment to a mission. Really didn't want to come home.

Last night with Snowy last night. She celebrated by bringing me 4 mice in various states of existence which really helped with my packing and cleaning.
Roll on Warwick and Sidmouth folk festivals

mortimers morris, tudor, kentwell

Previous post Next post
Up