A Turd In The Vegetable Bowl

 I slept in today

My bladder played up a little last night.

I walked into the kitchen blurry eyed and there it was, sitting proudly onto of a large red onion

A turd the consistency of a mr whippy

It just looked like one of Mathew Bourne’s wigs from The Nutcracker

Roger jumped on a chair I had left next to the cooker and sprang onto the kitchen tops with a grin which said proudly 

“ I did that!”

I had to stand for a long while…… processing the view

I’m working nights for two.

So today is a lazy day. I’ve made illy coffee in the Mokka and had free range eggs and garlic beans for breakfast.

Bloody lovely.

Yesterday I went to see Eirlys in her lived farmhouse not far from a chic Eleanor’s. 

Her husband John , died last winter, so her grief remains pained and angry.

It was good to see her. 

Eirlys taught me how to care for hens properly . She had a mixed flock of up to a hundred and all free ranged over her fields and lay in plastic buckets, inside tyres and feed troughs in her huge barn . Covid and John’s ill health has whittled the flock down to just four birds and it was weird sitting there without seeing a pecking beak and a glassy eye.

We talked about loneliness

And she vented, as we all need to vent.

The words like vomit, feeling easier when out.

And I asked to help me as one of the stewards on the flower show, which she happily agreed to.

I was just getting back into Bluebell when she called me from the house and she darted inside and hurried to the gate where she pressed two free range eggs into my hand

Have them for breakfast she said

And I just have , and bloody lovely they were too.

Now, this IS funny….well it’s funny as it is embarrassing

It’s about a chance conversation with a chap called Geraldo

When Colin and I were in Venice we both occasionally had a look out for any interesting Italians on Grindr. Colin being more of a gay dish than I had plenty of dings on his app

Me? Well I had one lol.

And that was with a melancholic designer , Geraldo who looked rather like Stanley Tucci’s younger and more reflective brother. 

We chatted on and off for the duration of the holiday, and he was helpful suggesting places to go and restaurants to visit. 

He told me He was always busy but loved to make pottery so, all excited I showed him a photo of my stubby horse and my obese camel

He seemed impressed but wasn’t forward in showing me a photo of his work

So I chased him up yesterday and he sent me a link

Apparently he is a renown potter, has a studio and teaches interior design in Venice

I almost died 

I can’t believe , like Roger and his turd  that I had shown my fat pony off as a piece of art!!!