December - wet, windy, cold and damp

December - wet and windy, cold and damp lying snow, vertical rain, foggy and damp. It is truly a month for the terminally depressed. Dark by half past three. There are a few benefits:
1. No flies
2. Occasionally clear, sunny days with views of such clarity that it is almost painful to the eyes, beautiful, but boy do you need a coat.

As I sit here, writing this, there is a squirrel on the lawn in front of me, trying to remember where he buried the acorns a few weeks ago. From the expression on his face, he is worried about the onset of early Altzeimers - for a squirrel that could be fatal. It could starve to death.
Nuts found, he is now doing the trademark arboriol athletic display, memory might be compromised but the gymnastics continue unabated.

Reading the paper yesterday, I came across a new word. “Phantasmagoria”. I don’t know what it means but it is a word with attitude, don’t you think?

Down by the ponds I have watched a scenario develop. A young angler has arrived with, to my mind, either a birthday or early Christmas present. It’s a sort of open fronted tent-like structure, which I am informed is a “bivvy”. This is quite an arrangement. All the facilities of home, bar a flushing toilet and wardrobe. There is the compulsory telephone/camera, cooking facilities, a bed, heaters and television.
Whilst watching this pantomime, I was amazed to witness a “crie de coeur” to Mum, via the telephone for either cooking instructions or a tin opener.

Murphy and I had a ride into the markets at Chesterfield. I was amazed at the ‘tat’ up for grabs - vibrating cushions! 6 foot tall christmas cards, cards that play carols and stuff either broken or rejected by Boxing Day.

After the downpours of the last few days, I thought where do the birds go? There is a blackbird in the hedge looking totally miffed, head downand puffed out, a ‘life is a bitch’ expression on his face. He won’t be getting any presents by the month’s end.

Leaving you with this thought: “Experience is what makes your mistakes so familiar.”

See you,
Buggy Man