Christening tyres.

After the glorious weather of the last few days the morning dawned overcast and damp. The heron by the village pond was too busy fishing to pay more than passing attention to Digby slowly ambling past - a quick flash of an orange eye and then he was head down, grey body merging into the placid stoney water. A graceful miracle of camouflaged harmony. The chill has brought on Digby's arthritis so our progress past the heron on the morning constitutional was conducted at what might best be described as a 'stately' pace. As we entered the final stretch towards home Digby was once again startled by the two cows at the front gate. He passes them every morning but their large , overarching , ever chewing presence is something he clearly prefers not to dwell on. His startled look seems to say : ' what in heavens name is that ? Do something ! '

More workmen arrived yesterday. After six weeks of preparation the kitchen cabinets were finally delivered. Progress at last. The boyz slowly circled the tradesmens vehicles before carefully aiming and christening each separate tyre. Job done to their mutual satisfaction they were able to retreat to the doorstep to mount guard. Despite the presence of new faces Wilf managed to fall sound asleep on his back , tongue protruding from his mouth, snoring gently in the sunshine. Having the boyz around really is like living with two irrepresible clowns.