Ain't No Use To Sit And Wonder Why.....

Since leaving the UK, we have been caught up on a regular (seemingly never-ending) round of exchange rate transactions, always keeping an eye of fluctuating pounds, dollars, euros, Swedish kronor etc:

With Charlie the entire process is so much simpler, though not without its unwelcome surprises at times:  I give him this each mroning (among other bits):

And he, in turn, gives me....well.....let's say, somthing like this little morsel in return, left overnight on the cool floor:

A Belly-Up Mole

Thanks Charlie. Just what I wanted this morning. I suppose it's a sign of affection and an acknowledgment of thanks for feeding the little booger but it's hard to be grateful for a dead mole. They are such appealing little things - as long as you have no lawn to speak of, that is!

Maybe it was an unexpected birthday gift, as today I reach yet another mile(mill??)stone. Today I should have been looking forward to grasping my buss-pass - at last - but that - I'll refrain from the too obvious alliterative four letter expression here -  wasn't to be: No, (....) Cleggy and his coalition cronies have whipped it out from under me world-weary, aching old feet. Bastards. In my native Scotland, we all know what to expect from bloody Cleggs!

The weather here has been not very good for about a week now. Cloudy, a keen wind, and even rain yesterday - which did save us having to water the garden, if nothing else. The change seems to have come together with our decision to buy one of those Gazeboey thingies for the garden. In theory to give us welcome shade - at this rate, in practice, to give us shelter from the threatening and actual rain!:

It took Charlie a few days before he'd venture inside the thing, with its netting rustling and rattling, constantly billowing and moving around. But he's got over his initial horror/surprise and now dozes on the chairs quite contentedly, at times.

Now, at my great age, I think it's time for me to doze on one of those chairs, cos the sun's come out to play - at last - and the vin rouge is beginning to take its toll. A bientot.