Our day started with a quick
cuppa and before you could say knife, Steve had both bikes out and had checked them
over ready to cram in another bike ride, even on the busy work schedule he has
this week before we have to leave for long drive to France for two weeks work
there. Isn’t it great at this time of year when the sun is already up,
brightening our world before six o’clock in the mornings. I relish this time of
year with all the trees looking splendid in full glowing bright leaf. The
Swallows are backs too. We were out running a week ago when I spotted the first
one and shouted to Steve who was just ahead of me, that it was officially
summer now because I had just seen a Swallow, of course he shouted over his
shoulder that one Swallow doesn’t make a summer, with which three more swooped
by and he had to admit that I had made the right call. I have not yet heard a
cuckoo but a friend on FB posted that he had so there you go.
We were out on our bikes and
today I only wore one base under a lightweight running coat, having looked at
the little brass dial in the garden that read 9° C. The mistake I made was not
slipping a thin pair of gloves on over my wrist supports and it was not long
before my fingers were really cold. As we rode down toward the sea there was
not the tiniest flutter in the trees which is unusual since generally of late
when we have ridden out, there has been a head on wind in at least three
directions. Still, as still could be and sunny; maybe the end of the world came
in the night and this was heaven. Maybe it was the stillness that had the
squirrel confused; he was sitting in the middle of the road, as still as the
leaves on the trees, when we rode up behind him and he jumped out of his fur as
Steve rode by within inches of his tail.
As we rode, it was so quiet
that we could chat about last nights TV and that was also a change because when
Steve is in front of me out on our bikes, I can’t hear him when he talks on a
windy day, I am just a bit hard of hearing and any other noise, means I can’t
hear what people are saying to me. We have been watching series 2 of Fargo which is the
blackest comedy I can ever recall seeing. We have loved the Minnesota characters accents and the utterly
amazing cast, who are playing it all dead (in more ways than one) straight. Ted
Danson is great, and Patrick Wilson; who is a Broadway musical man, so what is
he doing in the macabre offering. Kirsten Dunst, is simply brilliant and Jesse
Lons Plemons is also astonishing. I really should not pick out members of cast
for praise, since they are playing a team game there. It must get awards I
would think or maybe we are behind the times and the show already has had
awards thrown at it. My favourite laugh out loud moment was when ‘Bear’ told
the pretty young girl who he was just going to drive into the forest to murder,
to put her safety belt on! And of course Zahn McLaron, who kills more people per
episode than Keanu Reeves in John Wick 2. There is ‘Black’ and there is dark black, this
comedy this series goes: black, blacker, blackest. Fargo passed the ride for us today and we just
managed to get around our quick, flat bike route from home before groups of
children started to appear on their way to school. Pleased to have another ride
tucked under our belts.
Steve buzzed around at speed
getting ready to dart off to work as I gathered bike clothes up off the floor
to take out to the washing machine. A quick coffee and then we were both out
again, Steve to work and I had a couple of shop calls to make, one at the
handicraft shop and one in the village.
On checking my email, after I
had got tidied up, there was an email from some client friends in Raleigh NC.
They are the favourite uncles of little Catie-Ross. Her Uncle Ben has been
sending photos of this little mite ever since she was born. This little girl
has a lot to teach the constantly complaining people of the world. Born with a
hole in the heart the little pet has hardly known a day in the comfort of her family
home. For most of her short life she has been in and out of hospital and had
far too many operations than a baby of this age should have to suffer but they
are life saving. The strange thing is that she is always smiling. Tubes
everywhere and she has laughed and giggled her way through the heartbreak of
watching her fight for her life and never giving up. Poor little girl, she has
never known what it is like to not have tubes all over the place, not to have
what we know as normal comfortable night of sleep. Yet she smiles and giggles
endlessly on. The rest of us suffering a few aches and pains, that we endlessly
complain about can learn a thing or to from this wee baby. Her Uncle Ben and
her bloodline Uncle Ross, who she is named after, have done a splendid job
supporting her and her family and offering themselves as often as they can as
the front line baby sitters that she has so much fun in the care of. Well done
Ben and Ross.
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