Thursday, April 12, 2007

All fun and games ...


Cynddyllan?
Originally uploaded by goforchris.
The title of this post might alert the sharp-eyed to the novel I've been reading (more Mars bars?), but gives a pretty good indication of an excellent day. Holy Trinity church stands on a hill at the foot of the Bishop's Glen, and in the grounds (extensive) there are several extremely mature trees. In the winter gales they moult - twigs, sticks and whole branches - and the resulting debris makes for a scarey ride on the tractor mower. Today I picked up more than half of these bits; Cynddylan (aka Mr B) did interesting things with the tractor mower and the Rector produced sackfuls of wonderful dead weedery and used it to do her Ray Mears thing with the fire.

It was a wonderful day. The sun was wall to wall, the birds were giving it laldy, the wood smoke drifted under the trees, the fire was so hot that all was reduced to a small pile of grey ash, and we had a picnic. We ended with the regular midweek Eucharist, scented by bonfire instead of incense.

Another good thing was the reappearance of Progress report as one of The Teens prepares for Higher English - though I have to confess that tonight I'm too tired for more than perfunctory comment on her essay - interestingly on the same piece of journalism that we were considering yesterday.

And one bad thing. What kind of person owns a dog, diligently picks up and bags its excrement - and then leaves the malodorous little parcel in the middle of the pavement, or (worse) tied to a fence? I rest my case ....

10 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:49 PM

    Did anybody lose an eye? Was Christopher Brookmyre anywhere in the vicinity? The Welsh defeats me.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Clever clogs! And as for the Welsh - you surely know my fave poet by now...

    ReplyDelete
  3. In order not to lose an eye, in my capacity as Cynddylan or, if you prefer, the singing tractor driver, I have had to don what is euphemistically called protective gear in the shape of goggles,hat and ear protectors of such grinding ferocity that they may well induce gangrene of the ear. In the light of Mrs. Blethers' idyllic picture of the day's work I felt moved to pen this small counterblast.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous12:32 AM

    The Mars bar had better be real! As for clever... all it proves is that staring at the posters as one clambers up one of the non-functioning escalators on the Subway can be educational. Ah! The eternal sunshine of the spotty mind!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Anonymous12:37 AM

    And another thing: what are people of our vintage doing up at this time of night after a day of such exertion? Were you just Larkin around? (Another fave, if I remember aright.)

    ReplyDelete
  6. A result, I'm afraid, of an evening spent comatose in front of the telly. Apparently a practice in mediaeval times - you had your "first sleep' and then sat up carousing/talking whatever into the small hours.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Anonymous7:42 PM

    Eucharist with Bonfire smoke sounds wonderful to me. I love the out of the ordinary (since I am).

    The first Eucharist I took in an Episcopal Church was in Auburn Alabama in the 1970's. We used M & M's and wine, and the choir sang music from Godspell. Why I didn't join the church on that day, I don't know!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Anonymous7:42 PM

    Eucharist with Bonfire smoke sounds wonderful to me. I love the out of the ordinary (since I am).

    The first Eucharist I took in an Episcopal Church was in Auburn Alabama in the 1970's. We used M & M's and wine, and the choir sang music from Godspell. Why I didn't join the church on that day, I don't know!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Anonymous7:44 PM

    I didn't mean to post twice, but it wouldn't take my google account, and it wouldn't tell me it accepted my name, so by the time I resorted to anonymous, I guess it took my name. Oh well.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Joe, I'd rather have you by name any day :-) If you ever make it to the West of Scotland we'll do our best to show you something out of the ordinary!

    ReplyDelete