I’m sure there are worse things to be remembered for, and less appropriate ways of memorialising a loved one. Those whom Barbara left behind are hopefully gratified to see this being properly used. (That is an actual squirrel, in case you were wondering.)
Trixie makes her debut appearance on the blog but as she has been formally inducted into the ‘pub pack’ I am sure she will return. There are two types of people: ones who feed begging dogs snacks and ones who don’t. I am in the latter group, but I seem to definitely be in the minority.
Yesterday’s drive home went only as far as Morecambe, with the rest being done today. Staying at the in-laws’ always gives the chance to watch the local birdlife feed on the ample supplies Dave (Clare’s Dad) leaves out for them. Not that capturing them, in this case, on another dull day, through both a window and a network of branches proved very easy. Out of the many shots I tried none of them were all that sharp. But I quite like the somewhat disdainful look of the one on the right as it watches its buddy trough the bounty.
There is just such a look of contentment on the face of this sheep, as it has a rest from its communal troughing. I guess with all those fleeces on each side it must be pretty warm and stuffy down there; no wonder they were all taking breathers now and again.
The ducks seem collectively uninterested in whatever bounty the gentleman has brought. With the river high and the weather remaining grim, maybe they’re just fed up with it and mildly worried — like the rest of us.
Christmas at the in-laws’ in Morecambe ends with this nice little scene, photographed from the front room (hence through glass, explaining the blotches of yellow light below the sparrow on the right — they are reflections).
Being 42 