The day started quietly enough
with the Ghost Writer skulking about helping me screw screws into wooden posts
as part of the great master plan (that’s the Moroccan Patio Master Plan or MP
squared as it is known in GCHQ). We were using the powers of geometry and
string to ensure everything was aligned, square and parallel much like the
ancient Egyptians did or the Inca’s. It is amazing what you can do with string,
in fact it is far more practical than say an ipad or the like, and come the end
of the world it would make far greater sense to grab a large ball of string
than some fancy phone.
OK there we were and all was
fairly peaceful until there was a huge noise like a cannon going off which sent
all the geese, chickens and dogs behind us off into a state of panic for ten
minutes, it was a very load noise. I have since discovered though that the old
chap just up the road a couple of doors away in the village who is over ninety,
a bit frail, and has rubbish eye site had taken a shot at a rabbit. He had told
our neighbour, who thought he was planning to shot it with an air gun, but it
turned out to be something similar to an anti tank mortar weapon which he has
had for many many years and he last used against an Alien spacecraft back in
the 1950’s. It appears that even though his eye sight is not what is was thirty
years ago, he did get the rabbit, well I think the rabbit quite frankly stood
no chance or for that matter anything within a hundred yards of the rabbit.
Still you know what life in the country is like.
Then after that
as me and the Ghost Writer we having a cup of tea and recovering our wits
watching bits of fur drift by on the wind the Ghost Writer got a call to say
the power had been restored to the grey office so he had to run off to power up
the old faithful server. He said later that there was another very very old
chap on the road who was driving at 10MPH until you tried to overtake him then
he would speed up making him impossible to pass and what he (the Ghost Writer)
really needed was a an anti tank mortar weapon.
I then had to
go and do my bit with small over enthusiastic children in the local junior
school teaching then Art where I just about got them to make a tree full of
leaves to cover the tree on the Animal-Scope, but they are rather a lively
bunch and far too enthusiastic with all
their ARE WE THERE YET .. . . . . . . plus the odd muttering of I’M BORED
MAKING LEAVES, I did explain that posh leaves take time not two seconds but
apparently to the small young mind two seconds is loads of time; what I needed was an anti tank mortar weapon to focus their minds. Then Mrs Judith the Headmaster ran off smiling
which seemed a bit unfair leaving me with a whole gang of pesky kids and a pile
of paper leaves that they thought they would run through. Folk cant resist
piles of leaves even paper ones.
OOooooooo one
last thing I took a slightly better picture of the moon last night. . . .An
Almost Super Moon.
