In order to provide me with as clear a view of the bird feeders as possible our friend from AP Maintenance cleaned our sand blasted windows. This is not the usual use of the phrase sand blasted. It is what happens when the gravel pit vehicles make their daily trips past the front of our house.
I did manage shots of a great tit partaking of peanuts
and suet balls a little earlier. Such is their timidity that these birds swivel around clinging to their perch after each peck in order to ensure their security.
Before the heavier rain descended Jackie alerted me to the bejewelled nature of our garden plants, such as
the outstretched Japanese maple
and drooping Weeping Birch branches;
the fuchsias like Delta’s Sarah;
the spiky New Zealand phormium;
rose bush petals;
and the calligraphic curlicues of the lathyrus latifolius (everlasting sweet pea).
When not eyeing his own robin feeder, Nugget, “Where’s Nugget?” (48),
foraged on a bed of crocosmia stubble cleared earlier by Aaron.
For this evening’s dinner, which I relished, Jackie produced succulent roast pork; crisp Yorkshire pudding; piquant cauliflower cheese; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; and tender cabbage, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Parra Alta Malbec 2017.