The unspeakable in pursuit of, apparently, the edible

Al has had almost as many cabbage white butterflies fluttering around the shop as he’s had wasps. The butterflies happily settle on the cabbages and cauliflowers, though I’m not sure if it’s a bit late in the season for them to be laying eggs. Yesterday, Al saw one of them struggling on the ground and, looking closely, saw that it had been caught by a wasp. Later, he looked again and its body had been eaten. An unexpected use for wasps – did any of you know that they could catch cabbage white butterflies? I trust they don’t go for Red Admirals.

Tilly chased a rabbit today. It was in no danger, but she hasn’t bothered recently so I cheered her on. She returned a few minutes later with something of a swagger in her gait. At least the Frontline seems to have dealt with most of the fleas.

You know how it is when, for instance, someone asks what you think of their new hairstyle or whatever and you really don’t think it suits them, but you can hardly say so because it’s too late? I’ve just been asked for my opinion about something that is obviously going to happen, but about which I’ve considerable reservations. It’s obvious that my endorsement is being asked for and I’m not actually being consulted, and that it’s going ahead anyway, and I’d really rather not have been asked at all. I suppose I’ll think of something carefully disengaged to reply by tomorrow.

Tomorrow Al and Dilly are going out early to a car boot sale – as sellers this week, Dilly’s been having a clear-out. They’ve asked me to mind the children. At 6.30. Hm. All well and good for Dave, but if I’m awake at that hour of the morning I lie there thinking how nice it is that I don’t have to get up yet. I’ll have to get the Sage to take over from me later, I’ve got several things to do before going out, as we’re going over to lunch with Weeza and family. It’s Zerlina’s birthday on Tuesday, when I’ll be away, and Weeza and Phil’s 4th wedding anniversary the day after.

In fact, we’ve got 6 weeks of birthdays and anniversaries. Later this month will be Al and Dilly’s anniversary and in September Dilly, Phil, I and Pugsley all celebrate getting another year older. I think it’s Dilly’s mum and dad’s anniversary too, and possibly her dad’s birthday – I’ll have to check with her. A few happy Christmases over the years it seems…. (this doesn’t count as a use of the C word, btw, as I’m not referring to the forthcoming one that it’s far too early to mention).

The Sage is in bed. Time to take Tilly out and then join him.

7 comments on “The unspeakable in pursuit of, apparently, the edible

  1. Z

    Wasp eating pesky butterfly, darling.

    Of course, birthdays in early September indicate Advent rather than Christmas conception, but strict accuracy is so restricting, don’t you think?

    Reply
  2. Dave

    I’ve stopped commenting here first thing in the morning, so that the beeping of your computer indicating an incoming message doesn’t wake you up.

    Reply
  3. sablonneuse

    Our cats eat butterfies – wings and all!
    Hope your well thought out opinion comes over with just the right message – not rude but slightly disapproving (assuming that’s how you feel about whatever it is . . . )

    Reply
  4. Z

    I’m about to write it, having been babysitting or out all day. During the day, I decided to be frank, because I’ve had a second email asking for my view before I go away, but now I’ve reread the first email “I have no doubt” makes me wonder why I and others are being asked. Well, no it doesn’t – we’re being expected to endorse a decision that’s already made. I’ll pass the buck back and I’m counting the days to being out of this particular job.

    Dave, you are one of those lucky people whose hair always looks good, however long or short it is. Anyway, I won’t see you for a week or so, by which time, if it is a disaster, the worst will have grown out.

    Reply

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