I’m not entirely alone, in truth. Squiffany is, I hope, asleep upstairs. That is, she’s certainly in bed upstairs, all has been quiet since I kissed her and put her light out, so I hope she’s asleep. This is an important night for young Squiff, because her first tooth has come out and she’s wondering if the tooth fairy will call. The fairies have been pretty busy in the garden in the last few days and spent their nights (according to Dave) getting drunkenly stoned, but a Saturday night is a good one for getting back to business.
I haven’t had dinner yet, either. I can’t decide what to have. There’s not a lot to choose from – all sorts in the freezer (not the liquorice sort, don’t be like that – though actually, the thought made me remember the proper hard chewy liquorice sticks that are in a box that I’ve been slowly going through for the last year, with Ro’s help, so I’ve just been to fetch one) and I’ll probably end up eating an egg or two. Bantam eggs aren’t very large.
That reminds me, I’m often woken by the sound of clucking in the morning – by the chickens, darlings, whatever mental image do you have of my husband? – but all was silent today. I went outside and didn’t see any chooks, either. So, I fetched their breakfast and went out nervously, a bit worried about what I might find. One bantam came to greet me on the lawn, so I threw her some soaked bread and went, even more anxiously, to their run – which they can easily get out of. I didn’t shut them up last night, either – some of them roost in the trees and, as it’s all so open, they’re actually safer, many of them, left to their own devices. The Sage can persuade them all inside, but I can’t. Anyway, although there were only a few there, they were alive and well, so I went back to the lawn and started calling, and within a few minutes fifteen of them were hurrying for their breakfast. So that was all right. However, they were noticeably quiet all day, and I can only think that the reason was the strong southerly wind (might be south-south-west) which was unusually warm and might have unsettled them out of their usual habits. About twenty came for lunch and fifteen for tea (more probably arrived after I’d gone) so all is well.
I spent some time this afternoon with my pruning saw, which was hard work in this heat. I was quite hot, although fairly unbothered, when I came back indoors. I’m afraid I’ve left all the wood for the aforementioned fairies to clear up, but I assured them that it can wait a couple of days, I know they have other things to do over the weekend.
Anyway, what I’m coming to is that I’ve finally signed up for Facebook. Absurdly, I’m so reluctant to do so that I’ve felt unable to use my actual name, so I didn’t approach anyone, as they wouldn’t recognise me. However, I’ll tell you, darlings (if you would like to work out why I’m quite happy to put all sorts of stuff here when I’m not via Facebook, I’d be interested to know. Needless to say, I didn’t put down my actual birthdate either). I was going to put my initial plus my surname until I found that searches are done, rather as you’d expect, by surname. So I’ve gone for one I’ve always rather hankered after after seeing it on the credits of a TV programme some 30 years ago. It starts and ends with Z and has un in the middle. I suspect there is only one of them (haven’t looked), with three zeds, and it is I.
You are most welcome to come along, darlings, though I’ll quite understand if you think I’m too odd for words. I now have only to work out how to explain to my face-to-face friends (won’t say real life, this is as real life as I get) who have sent me invitations why I am not who they expect me to be.
I don’t enter into the spirit of things at all, do I? Truth is, I’m not actually a joiner. I’m a solitary, miserable fool by inclination. Except as far as you’re concerned, where I’m friendly and stuff.