Tuesday, 28 May 2013

Magpie season again

It may seem strange to have magpie season in winter, but my magpies are individualistic...

The history is that I used to feed them every morning, until not only did they become obese but they decided that the yard was their own place, so happily dug up my garden. That was when I discovered that magpies love newly planted peas and beans. Last year I did not get a single pea from a whole packet planted. I was severely displeased, so from then on ignored the birds - until this week. They have been singing frantically to me every morning, with a definite edge of 'we are soooooooo hungry...' so finally I surveyed the sad creatures. They have a nearly grown baby, hence are finding it difficult to find enough food in frosty times.While sensible birds may produce their young in spring, my residents have no idea of season.

Sigh. I am still ignoring the raucous crows, who want to join in, but am giving the magpies little meat offcuts each morning when I feed the dogs. I am watching them closely, however, as I have just sown some broad beans. They had better behave themselves!

On a quite different topic: I entered a podiatrist's premises yesterday. How can say one has lived without having visited a podiatrist? What an awful job to have, though, sorting out people's smelly feet! The nice young man who was to look at my pods disagreed, however, saying that people's smelly mouths would be much worse. What a choice. Oh, well, I submitted to having my feet checked over and groomed for me. It was mostly quite fun, and I ended up with such neat toenails that I felt maybe they should also be painted decoratively. It appears that podiatrists don't offer that service, however, but do finish off with a quick rub-over with massage oil. Cool. I feel, though, that they need a lot more people than me to keep all their people employed - I don't know how long it will be before I think to visit them again as I have a nicely healthy pair of feet to continue my pottering around the paddock.

And it mists outside. Everything is dripping and the goats' fur is standing up in little spikes. I am comfortable in my waterproof house!

Take care, everyone. Talk to you soon.Oh, and it's son Duncan's 45th birthday today. I said how good he's made it halfway to 90, but he says things like joints are wearing out much too fast!

Cheers - Fliss

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