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Tuesday, 19 May 2020

BLUE EGGS BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Good after noon Bloggets. Here I am in my back garden. The birds are still singing, I say still, as the sounds of the cars on the nearby road haven’t caught up with the birds yet, they are still hoping that us humans are still on lock down and their skies are clean, clear and the pollution from the traffic is so small, it’s not bothering or choking them.  Their sweet song has been the best thing about this killer virus. I say killer as it has sadly killed so many people, but, it’s also had its benefits to the environment such as somewhere in England a white stalk has laid eggs for the first time since 1400 and something, six hundred years ago was the last time this bird laid eggs in England. Fish are swimming in our rivers who have been strangers to our waters for so long, the annoying thing about lock down being slightly relaxed is, we were told there were some sports we could do again. Such as, fishing and hunting. For Gods sake, why? Why allow this evil to murder the beauty that is in our world. Let people play, golf, tennis and so on do we really have to murder innocent creatures? Can’t we leave them alone can’t we learn from this lesson that is far from over?

 

The sun is out, there is a breaz but it’s refreshing.  A pigeon is singing in a near by tree, the same song, do they not get sick of hearing the same words over and over again, or is it us, who can’t hear the other tones the pigeon is making? Or, does he sing the same song, but in his eyes or the turn of his head translates to other birds what he means?

 

There is a high pitch bird I think protecting her nest and another bird that sounds as if it’s kissing someone’s cheek. Another one is flying around and singing as she flies. And then there are the crows. Hmm.

 

I am waiting for my shopping to be delivered. They have not let me know yet of the time they will be coming. I just hope it’s not within the next half hour, or I won’t hear the doorbell. But normally we get a text to let us know the rough time and we have not had that. That is a bit worrying. As it’s due within the next five hours.

 

My Husband put the order in this week, he said it was due on Tuesday, haha, he better not have thought it was this week and it’s indeed next!

 

How are you all doing these days? I hope you are managing to eat well and keep as fit as possible then if this hideous whatever catch’s you, you will be healthy enough to beat it. Talking of health, my treadmill has gone to the mill in the sky. It’s dead. I have killed it. It took its final smoke and pop pop bang a few days ago. I’m annoyed as I need it more than ever.

 

For part of our dinner tonight, I have made mash potato with herbs. Added salt and pepper lots of butter (very healthy) and cheese. On the left side of a oven dish, I put a hole in the potato and cracked an egg in. why the left? That will be hubs side, why the left? Because I’m always right……..

 

Now to decide what to have with it. My son is a fantastic cook he has a great imagination too and he thrives on healthy food. I brought him up well. From a baby I have always given him lots of fruit and vegetables and it’s now shown in his lifestyle. Shame I am good at giving out goodness, but not so good at taking it in myself.

 

Oh, the smell of manure is wafting in from the fields. Fields? Where, I live in the city. It’s mixing in with the blossom in my garden and the sun that is burning the wood on our fence. The fragrance from food that is being cooked in our international avenue of all sorts evening meal preparation’s and a smell that is quite nice that I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Until now. it’s only my sun tan lotion. Hahaha.

 

I could sit out here and chat forever but soon I have to go in and cook dinner. Hub is working till six tonight. A ten-hour working day. He will be starving he hasn’t had a thing to eat all day. He has had no time and he insists in eating in my peace room where I have a lovely massage chair. It’s the only room in my house that isn’t cluttered with stuff. You know, just stuff. Life. it’s a clear room for a clear mind. Only it’s full of the Hubster all day now as he works from home. What is wrong with his office? Good question. That room used to be our son’s bedroom I kind of feel sad when I enter it, I wish he was still with us. The pain of him living elsewhere burns my heart, but I am blessed we still see each other, I know some of you readers don’t see your children as they live too far away, I could never ever live far from my Son and I hope that choice is never removed from me.

 

My biscuit man is due but I didn’t know he was coming back until one of my neighbours phoned me. So, I have ordered lots of goodies for our shopping this week. Or, is it this week? Imagine how annoyed I will be if I have said no to our biscuit man and our biscuits are not coming until next Tuesday? Oh, that won’t be a good moment in the Fifi household.

 

The other day we were quite desperate for milk. I felt so flat as I couldn’t go out to our local shop and buy some. This blooming distance thing is killing those of us who are blind. And you get some absolutely evil narrow minded people who say things like if blind people can not keep safe from us, then they should stay in. shocking, if a sighted person can not see me coming with my guide dog, then they need to have a word with Guide Dogs UK.

 

Listening to the radio whilst I was pealing potatoes this afternoon, I was listing to Radio 4 about people talking about how water has affected their lives. Water is such a powerful thing. It can kill, an yet we can’t live without it. I love the sound of water, do you? A lovely water feature is so calming in a garden. Out in my garden, I wouldn’t be able to hear it as it would have to fight against the sounds of the traffic. A trickling babbling stream too, oh, how beautiful!

 

I received a lovely few message from my friend who spoke of the veg she is growing in her garden. That is a perfect life. one of the people in this afternoons radio show said she used to keep chickens and they produced blue eggs. Gosh, how pretty.

 

My early readers, old Bloggets as you are lovingly known as, do you remember our canary? He was Irish you know. Oh, he could sing. Why has my mind gone from chickens to our Irish canary? Oh, I guess the sun is getting to me I shall go in now and cook. Such a wonderful life. a hot day and a hot oven. Bliss.

 

 

 

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