It is one of the those lovely winter days, with a low sun and cold wind. It is muddy underfoot and the chill air gets to your cheekbones. The children squeal in the playground before school begins, as Packman's bellowing obliterates the morning call of Russell's Crow across the valley.
The sky to the west this morning was like a painting by a Dutch old master. Beautiful. In the early evening, Venus leads the charge to make way for an incredible array of stars and the waning Wolf Moon of January.
Back in the real world, away from this dreamscape, it would appear the oil thieves have been at work again, this time at the village hall. One minute, there were litres of black gold in the tank. Then the heating packed up, Why? Because someone had gone round the back and siphoned the stuff off. Thankfully, Mr Grigg's offer of providing a padlock has now been taken up. There's nothing like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.
Bin wars has also apparently broken out just up the road. A woman who my blog scout calls the Terracotta Queen has been secretly putting out her rubbish in front of Mr Homes-under-the-Hammer's house. She's done it because the bin men can't see her rubbish for all the cars parked in front of it. So she has been creeping out early in the mornings, like Wee Willie Winkie, and putting it next door. This week Mr Homes-under-the-Hammer caught her in the act. I have to say, I did think with all those recycling boxes out there once a fortnight that he might have something of a drink problem. It just goes to show how appearances can be deceptive.
Celebrity Farmer has now all but finished his gigolo pad. I am told he is waiting for his mirrored wardrobe and oak bed to arrive. But beware any young maidens who are tempted back to his lair, Sparky Mark is installing cameras. Celebrity Farmer's black and handsome friend is staying over the weekend, which should cause a stir. But now we have a black man in the Whitehouse, surely prejudice has long been banished from these parts?
I have just heard from Pelly in Washington. Mr Sheepwash has enjoyed so many dinners, he needs a new pair of trousers. When they return it will be back to a hard day's logging for him, I think.
The world outside my window will be filled with horses and foxes tomorrow as the stirrup cup is enjoyed by the local hunt. There is expected to be a large turnout of village men to admire Posh Totty in full riding gear, which will make a change from their wives drooling over her husband. I will avoid getting too close, in case her crop lashes out. Mr Grigg has been asked to hand around nibbles to the riders. He is helpful, but never subservient. So I shall watch with interest. Preferably from the window.
That's about it,
Love Maddie x
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