Late afternoon and the sun is gentle over the airfield. My flight will be called in around twenty minutes, so I have found an out of the way seat near a weeping fig, to pass the time.
Hopefully I’ll be back again in the summer and see how the kittens have grown. The ginger and white is, predictably, my favourite. He bounds over to say hello when you go out of the door, and seems to be bigger and more robust already. His sister is friendly enough, but more absorbed by her toys. He is the footballer of the pair, which is maybe why Westie Boy was watching with such concentration from the window this morning. Westie Boy is no mean player himself. A bit greedy with the ball I’d say. The opportunities I had to participate in our game this morning were rare enough for me to gather kindling between kicks and leave it by the door, ready for a fire I shan’t see. I took some wobbly footage which I’ll look at when I am home. Continue reading
At our local City Garden Farm I saw this mistletoe ready to be harvested from a tree for the Christmas market.
The woman in charge explained that it was thought a magical plant in ancient times as it has no roots and seems to hang between earth and heaven.
The mistletoe is managed here, and on much lower branches than you see it growing wild. It brings some welcome income to the City Garden Farm.
The surgery said to call after four if I hadn’t heard from them.
I hadn’t so I did.
The veterinary nurse told me the vet wanted to speak to me but was in a consultation, so would call me when it was over.
My heart leapt into my mouth. I immediately feared the worst. Continue reading