Bowie, Grass and the Heron

In the previous post all the events happened here…

There was a lot of weird stuff going on…as you can see.  From my journal someone had marked an X in the grass outside our house, which I erased. A piece of clay fell from the sky. Later someone else arranged twigs in a similar shape outside one of our other abodes.

Bowie is getting braver and potentially more dangerous to herself. We have three interconnected garages which have a man sized safety hole in them. So, if the garage door won’t open you can get into the next garage. One houses the 207, the other the Clio. The third one has been converted into a workshop / shed.

Our commercial logs are stored in the 207 garage on the left to the right of the passage. When I was playing with my chopper yesterday, my four and a half pound axe, Bowie investigated the open 207 garage. She was running about and came out. She hid under the parked 207. Cats like warm cars. I was ultra-careful not to cause her a 3d to 2d phase transition with the car. She ran into the garage and through the manhole into the Clio garage.

Oh shit…

I opened the door to the Clio garage.

I am going to have to get her out before I close the doors. She is hungry and there are mouse and rat poison baits in the garages. Mice can get from the garages through the ceiling space into our attics.  I banged a cat bowl. I turned the leaf blower on in the workshop and went to the back of both garages. After a while I saw Bowie, greased lightning, on the drive. Garage doors closed and no potentially poisoned cat.

Today we were planting a white “Angel Wings” plant near where we used to feed the strays. When we put water into the planting hole Bowie imagined it was food and came within a few feet of my arms to sniff. She is getting bolder and more reckless.

I cut the first of the lawns today. It was difficult because the grass is still wet. The channel from the cutting arms to the grass bag gets clogged. This meant that I had to do the “James Herriot” several times. For those who don’t know there is a series of UK TV programmes from the last century about a Yorkshire vet. In these James has to put his arm shoulder deep, from time to time, inside a cow’s vagina to help with the birth. About half a dozen times today I had to stop the mower and put my arm shoulder deep into the sit own mower. This means that by the end of the mow Dr Bruce Banner had arms the green shade of his alter ego.

For a fair while during the mow, the heron sat at the far end of the pond watching me drive up and down on a beautiful autumn afternoon. The sit on mower did not compute for him / her. It was nice to see it each time I turned and looked upon the mirror calm pond. When the grass bag full alarm went off, beep, beep, beep, it flew off.

It is a strange juxtaposition, bucolic this afternoon and deeply occult this morning.

The three events mentioned previously took place in and around the house pictured above geo-located in Buckinghamshire…

Whoever moved in after us might have had a few “energetic” surprises. 😉

Life is weird, strange shit happens…

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