Carol has been out with me for some short walks over the past couple of days, so it's a good sign that she's feeling up to taking Alfie out with me along the Redway behind the house and then into Eaglestone Park. A really positive sign. Yesterday she wasn't feeling very good, with a great deal of pain continuing. I've mentioned before that Alfie becomes a sort of Tasmanian Devil whenever you go anywhere near his lead, hanging on it's hook in the kitchen. He soon picks up on the idea that we're going to take him for a walk. I gave him a treat tin full of Baker's dog treats for Christmas. He soon realised that it contained his favourite treats and he's got wise to what's inside and has got the habit of going and prodding it with his nose to get attention and as a way to get me to give him a treat.
It's just as well we didn't want to go anywhere over the New Year's Bank Holiday because the weather has been exceptionally bad. Well, I say we 'didn't want to', which isn't exactly true. We would have liked to, but with Carol not being well, it wouldn't have been easy. We still plan to go somewhere or other, even if it's just for a short outing, to a garden centre or a coffee shop for an hour to so. But with the weather so awful it was certainly not advisable. At least not snow and ice, but wind and rain. Looking out of the kitchen window whilst washing up, it was raining hard and there was a river running down the road outside. As I write this, at 7.25 a.m., I can hear the wind roaring outside. It would actually put me off driving far as you can never tell whether there will be trees falling and things like roof tiles. No doubt we will see bits of tree everywhere outside and it's a well we have a relatively strong garden fence because otherwise we'll have had parts of it blown over. I expect there will be fences in a horizontal position around the estate. I did notice some new sections of fence when we took Alfie for a walk a few days ago which must have been to replace wind-damaged sections. The bird feeding station is being blown about by the wind. No doubt it's putting the birds off visiting it to have a bite to eat.
It would appear, from watching the weather forecast on BBC Breakfast, that we are having it relatively easy on the weather-front. Storm Eleanor seems to be wreaking havoc in the west of the country whilst we're getting it fairly lightly. In some parts of the country it would appear people are having to endure power cuts as a result of the weather.
Well, at least, with the Christmas and New Year out of the way, things have returned to normal. We have to put 'the bins' or our rubbish bags out on a Wednesday normally, but with the two Bank Holidays it generally means the rubbish collection around here is scheduled for Thursday. Last week I put the rubbish out on Thursday, but they hadn't been to collect it by the evening. What had happened? Why had the Council workmen not been to collect the rubbish from around this area? Everyone else along the road had put their black and pink sacks of rubbish out as I'd done. Since having that sheet left outside warning us that putting our rubbish out too early might be classed as 'Fly Tipping' and we could be fined for doing so, I think our neighbours might be a bit wary of putting their rubbish out too early, but, in my opinion, it's a bit mean to fine people when it's not intended to be 'Fly-Tipping' if it's just put out for the Council workmen to collect. Just a good way to get money out of people, of you ask me. The collection didn't take place until Saturday, which was strange, as I don't think I've known they work on a Saturday. The longer the bags of rubbish are left outside, the more chance there is that they will become attacked by cats and other animals. I have seen a cat tearing open the black bin bag and the contents being spilled out. Crazy that the Council don't think about this issue. If the bags were inside bins, Wheeley or otherwise, they would be less likely to be attacked in this way. Well, surly they'd be free from the predations of cats and other animals, as well as birds with long, sharp beaks, such as magpies, which there are flocks of around this area. By the way, what is the proper name for a flock of magpies? Apparently, it's a tiding of magpies. So, I'm intrigued to know why a tiding. They seem to appear around the area on odd occasions, but at the moment there are none. So, if so, where do they go? Do they migrate in winter, going to warmer climes? They can be quite aggressive and I've seen them mob other birds. They also make a rather unpleasant sound, which is rather like the sound of a ratchet, like something being wound up, clockwork, like a clock.
When I looked out of the window in the kitchen early this afternoon there was a howling gale outside. Leaves being blown along the road outside and no doubt bits of tree, twigs, fallen branches and goodness knows what else out into the countryside. Not conditions I would choose to drive in, so it's as well we haven't been out. probably the road from the A5 into Woburn, which we drove along regularly, would be quite dangerous as it's lined with trees all the way.
By tea-time the wind had dropped considerably. I can't hear the wind howling outside as I write this (6.55 p.m.).
Next day . . .
This is being written on Thursday morning at approximately 6.05. It's raining heavily. I've had to put the rubbish out. I know, really exciting, but life must go on. Alfie followed me downstairs, so I assumed he wanted to be let out. I opened the patio door from the kitchen and he poked his head out. I continued to tie up the bin bags. The pink re-cycleing bag is full, but it's quite difficult to tie up, and these bags are made of thin, flimsy material which is easily torn. Why do they make them so thin and annoying? Two of the black bags are exceptionally heavy. I began to wonder if they contained bricks as they were so heavy. I closed the kitchen door, having lugged the bags out into the hallway ready to take outside, but leaving Alfie in the kitchen. If I don't do this, Alfie is likely to shoot out of the front door when I open it, and it would mean chasing after him to retrieve him if he got out. Not something I would exactly relish with the weather the way it is at the moment. It is then quite an effort to get both black bin bags out of the front door as well as the pink recycling bag. I plonk the bags at the roadside ready for collection. I'm in my pyjamas and it's raining, but never mind. I return to the kitchen and find a small puddle on the floor just inside the door. Alfie has shot upstairs, so I assume he didn't go out into the garden and the puddle is his little accident. I don't blame him, because he doesn't like getting wet. A little drop of wee, unfortunately, but he sits at the top of the stairs and I can see him peering down at me, looking anguished. Come down, silly little dog. It was an accident. Never mind. Who would want to go out into a rain-lashed garden to do a wee?
It would appear, from watching the weather forecast on BBC Breakfast, that we are having it relatively easy on the weather-front. Storm Eleanor seems to be wreaking havoc in the west of the country whilst we're getting it fairly lightly. In some parts of the country it would appear people are having to endure power cuts as a result of the weather.
Well, at least, with the Christmas and New Year out of the way, things have returned to normal. We have to put 'the bins' or our rubbish bags out on a Wednesday normally, but with the two Bank Holidays it generally means the rubbish collection around here is scheduled for Thursday. Last week I put the rubbish out on Thursday, but they hadn't been to collect it by the evening. What had happened? Why had the Council workmen not been to collect the rubbish from around this area? Everyone else along the road had put their black and pink sacks of rubbish out as I'd done. Since having that sheet left outside warning us that putting our rubbish out too early might be classed as 'Fly Tipping' and we could be fined for doing so, I think our neighbours might be a bit wary of putting their rubbish out too early, but, in my opinion, it's a bit mean to fine people when it's not intended to be 'Fly-Tipping' if it's just put out for the Council workmen to collect. Just a good way to get money out of people, of you ask me. The collection didn't take place until Saturday, which was strange, as I don't think I've known they work on a Saturday. The longer the bags of rubbish are left outside, the more chance there is that they will become attacked by cats and other animals. I have seen a cat tearing open the black bin bag and the contents being spilled out. Crazy that the Council don't think about this issue. If the bags were inside bins, Wheeley or otherwise, they would be less likely to be attacked in this way. Well, surly they'd be free from the predations of cats and other animals, as well as birds with long, sharp beaks, such as magpies, which there are flocks of around this area. By the way, what is the proper name for a flock of magpies? Apparently, it's a tiding of magpies. So, I'm intrigued to know why a tiding. They seem to appear around the area on odd occasions, but at the moment there are none. So, if so, where do they go? Do they migrate in winter, going to warmer climes? They can be quite aggressive and I've seen them mob other birds. They also make a rather unpleasant sound, which is rather like the sound of a ratchet, like something being wound up, clockwork, like a clock.
When I looked out of the window in the kitchen early this afternoon there was a howling gale outside. Leaves being blown along the road outside and no doubt bits of tree, twigs, fallen branches and goodness knows what else out into the countryside. Not conditions I would choose to drive in, so it's as well we haven't been out. probably the road from the A5 into Woburn, which we drove along regularly, would be quite dangerous as it's lined with trees all the way.
By tea-time the wind had dropped considerably. I can't hear the wind howling outside as I write this (6.55 p.m.).
Next day . . .
This is being written on Thursday morning at approximately 6.05. It's raining heavily. I've had to put the rubbish out. I know, really exciting, but life must go on. Alfie followed me downstairs, so I assumed he wanted to be let out. I opened the patio door from the kitchen and he poked his head out. I continued to tie up the bin bags. The pink re-cycleing bag is full, but it's quite difficult to tie up, and these bags are made of thin, flimsy material which is easily torn. Why do they make them so thin and annoying? Two of the black bags are exceptionally heavy. I began to wonder if they contained bricks as they were so heavy. I closed the kitchen door, having lugged the bags out into the hallway ready to take outside, but leaving Alfie in the kitchen. If I don't do this, Alfie is likely to shoot out of the front door when I open it, and it would mean chasing after him to retrieve him if he got out. Not something I would exactly relish with the weather the way it is at the moment. It is then quite an effort to get both black bin bags out of the front door as well as the pink recycling bag. I plonk the bags at the roadside ready for collection. I'm in my pyjamas and it's raining, but never mind. I return to the kitchen and find a small puddle on the floor just inside the door. Alfie has shot upstairs, so I assume he didn't go out into the garden and the puddle is his little accident. I don't blame him, because he doesn't like getting wet. A little drop of wee, unfortunately, but he sits at the top of the stairs and I can see him peering down at me, looking anguished. Come down, silly little dog. It was an accident. Never mind. Who would want to go out into a rain-lashed garden to do a wee?
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