The Kitchen Table

It's going on three o'clock and I am sat at the kitchen table
after picking over the carcass of a roast chicken

One bowl of chicken bits is destined for tomorrow's lunch

The rest will be shared between the dogs and the field birds.

We have just finished lunch

and Chris has gone to Church,

I think he's ringing the bell today. 

It's tolling rather quickly.

The cottage is silent apart from the sound of a bulldog and three terriers licking chicken fat

from some foil bowls outside the back door.

Albert is asleep on the couch, he hasn't smelt the chicken as yet.

I continue with my mindless job.

Kitchen tables are a place for mindless activity.

Shelling peas,

Baking,

Making idle lists on the back of envelopes.

Squeezing dog's anal glands

Polishing silver.

I have a load of washing up to do, the dogs to walk,

the broody hens all need turfing off their eggs for a quick feed

and I still have to deliver eggs to Michelle up the Marian

But I can't be arsed moving,

So I will sit at the kitchen table a while longer,

and continue with some mindless activity

ie. blog writing.

Hey ho