what a busy month it's been. Our feet have barely touched the ground, and our heads have all too brief ly felt the comfort of our soft pillows.
It's midgie season, and we've just finished yet another late-night shift, slathered in insect repellent. I'm sitting in my comfy armchair by the fire, which is roaring away, providing psychological comfort as much as warmth. It's all part of the winddown after a busy day, that, and a glass of scotch whisky, for which I have developed quite a liking. When in Rome and all that…
The swallows are back in abundance, swooping across the field at the end of our garden and performing aerobatics late into the evening. Without those pesky midgies, they probably wouldn't be here, as it's what they eat, but it's such a shame that we, too, must be part of the food chain, and Hannah and Fred, in particular, are susceptible to the bite of those nasty little midgie blighters.
It's late on Saturday
