Whisky From Small Glasses*

There are some good things about being home:

1.  Orange cuddles with the fluffy monster:


2.  Have booked for Spin every day this week.  Is good to be back there (see attached photo).

3.  On walk up to the cows just now, see all these people:

  • Two grey herons flying over.
  • One red kite.
  • The golden arrow of a goldfinch swooping across the road.
  • A great tit in the hedge.
  • A robin on the fence.
  • A human chum from Spin with her cocker spaniel.  Achieve a chat with another person as well as a walk!

Mum is making supper.  The fluffy monster has slunk off to have a sleep.  Am sitting with the panther on the sofa, writing this.

“I’ve lost my glasses,” Dad says, wandering into the room, holding a pair of glasses.

“Those are glasses,” I say, in case he hasn’t noticed.

“Ah, but I used to have three pairs like this,” Dad says.  “Must’ve left them in the garage.”

Confused, he wanders off.  “Can I do anything, darling?” He asks Mum, before settling into his chair.

The parentals have had their cataracts done and now both have perfect vision.  They no longer need glasses.  And yet they keep acquiring more and more pairs.  The ways of the elderly are strange.

Happy Tuesday everyone!
*2014.  By Denzil Meyrick.  A D.C.I. Daley thriller, book 1.  Set in Scotland.

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