The trouble is with writing a post in the morning that things happen during the day and I have the twitch to write in the evening. Of course, the trouble with writing late at night is that I’m tired out or I’ve written the post in my mind already, so don’t have to actually put it down on virtual paper, or have forgotten all about it already. But 7.20 in the evening when, unusually, we’ve already had dinner, should come somewhere in between – if we disregard that I’ve already written today’s post that is, and you indulge me. You don’t have to indulge me of course, and I won’t even know if you haven’t, unless you write me a forthright note to tell me so.
Jonathan rang to say that he would be taking one cow back and bringing another to keep Big Pinkie company. If they happened to be on the Ups and Downs, could I put the gate across the beck, please, to keep them there? I went out. They weren’t there. I went back to fetch a few apples to attract them and returned – they were there, 50 yards away on the field. I moved the barrier and went to give them their apples. They were both awfully pleased and stuck their big rasping tongues out as I held the apple halves on my palm. I know not to leave a finger sticking up for them to bite accidentally, but they drool a whole lot more than horses. They weren’t inclined to follow me, but, as I looked back, 169 was licking Pinkie’s shoulder affectionately, a move that Pinkie reciprocated a minute later,
Jonathan and Brian arrived and the cows thundered over the field to greet them. I fetched another apple and some carrots. 169 is expecting her calf in a few weeks, so she’s going back to the farm, and we’ll miss her. “She used to be a bit wild, you’ve gentled her” observed Jonathan. I gave Pinkie the credit. 169 obediently went into the truck as 202 came out. Pinkie and she looked at each other and were not at all pleased to see each other. They both lowered their heads and I took a few more steps back. I’d already recommended to Tilly that she wait outside the field. Pinkie and 202 weren’t happy. We watched as they went towards each other and pushed heads and necks against each other. Then 202 moved away and Pinkie followed, sniffing 202’s bottom. I think this was asserting her authority. Then they both started to graze, still tense but no longer actively unfriendly. It was interesting.
I did have my relax on the sofa, but the Sage took an earlier train home than he’d booked (you can usually do that, as long as you okay it with the inspector or the office) as he’d not bought anything. The description of damage in the catalogue was not incorrect but didn’t quite tell the full extent, so he didn’t bid. He went back into town to pay money back into the bank. Having run it past him, I rang the hospital to confirm my appointment. “There’s your x-ray at 2.30” she said. “Really? That isn’t mentioned on the appointment, only the consultant at 3” I said. “It should have been,” she said apologetically. It’s still all right, I can leave my lunch a bit early. I rang my friends to tell them I could take them but not take them home afterwards. That’s all right, they can take the bus. I feel nervous already. I already regret doing this – yes sure, right thing to do and all that.
I screwed up somewhat yesterday (as every day as you know). I emailed my apologies for a meeting tomorrow, as we’re going to Weeza’s. It was a jocular apology, explaining that I’d had a better offer for my birthday. Only after I’d sent it did I realise that it went to every school in the pyramid – 15 or so – as well as the people on the committee. I had to follow up with a ‘whoops’ after-message. I will put a brave ‘pfft’ face on it and just sigh heavily in the background. Anyway, giving apologies for a meeting in favour of fun is a step forward for me and a sign that duty won’t come first all the time in future.