Summer, as rainy and dull as it was for the most part here in the north-west of England, seems to have finally tucked itself into bed and gone into hibernation. Yesterday, August Bank Holiday, saw the farmers cutting silage early morning before the rains came again, and sweeping Ed's stable last night the swallows in the roof were noisily feeding their final brood. I'll miss their chatter, and having to duck as they fly in and out of the doorway. I hope the babies are fit and ready to face the long flight to Africa - it's not long now. There are only eight weeks - ten absolute max if the weather is unseasonably dry come autumn - before the fields shut. I am dreading it this year more than ever, now that Ed needs to keep moving with his arthritic joints.
I'm getting the stable ready for winter this afternoon. Clearing the cobwebs from the ceiling and walls with my corn broom, and then tomorrow I shall take a trip to Homebase and buy some black paint to refresh the lower part of his walls; the white above can be done at any time. Then when it is dry I shall put down a winter bed - last night Ed was reluctant to go out because the fields were flooded. I always say that Ed tells me when he wants to be in at night, and usually he is happy to go out at night, in all weathers, right up until the fields close. He is, however, getting older. Last night he wanted 'in'.
Where has the year gone? I can't bear to look at Christmas cards in the shops.
No comments:
Post a Comment