Floods and Feasts

The incredibly dry summer has suddenly become an incredibly wet autumn. It’s all done to annoy the farmers, I’m sure: we had lots of lovely drought for the potatoes, and now that it’s time to reap the barley, we’ve got rain every day. There was an absolute deluge yesterday; nothing much happened to us down here, but the Gamekeeper’s unfortunate parents ended up with a garage full of mud. The Professor met Barnyards up the hill this afternoon, and commiserated on the barley; to be told that while that was not a good story either, the big problem is that everything he planted up there for next spring has been literally washed away in the torrential rain; Aberdeenshire is not accustomed to monsoon conditions.
We have other tribulations of our own — we are desperately trying to get the Bumper Book of the Baroque out of the house by the end of the month, and the freezer has gone phut — this is the more annoying in that the Canadian Professor sent us a book of ice cream recipes, and last night I made some pistachio which is absolutely delicious and would be all the better for being FROZEN. Oh, well. Life is very difficult sometimes. The dogs think they’re going to get the thawed sausages etc., but they are quite wrong. Miss Dog was sick on the upstairs landing this morning having had entirely too many little treats, and it’s plain dog food from now on.

One Response to “Floods and Feasts”

  1. The Canadian Professor Says:

    1. Cones to be wrapped & posted in immense box originating from Burnside.

    2. If you wash the dog rug, it loses its heavenly smell.

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