Confessions of a serial mower - A day in the life of a mouse

Well, if I didn't know better I would say I lived at Longleat. If a Rhino came out of the set aside tonight I would say "game on" (pun intended).
My day began at 6.30 am, I alighted the stairs to mother duck and eleven babies, well teenagers, sitting waiting for me on the back door step, in a sea of poo. In my particularly old but very comfy wrap I trotted off to the pond with a bowl of mixed grains, we have progressed from the baby grower pellets. The ducks follow in formation just like the man who taught the geese to fly in that film.
I pray they learn to fly on their own, as this is not a skill I possess, alas.
At the pond is a heron and a kingfisher.

Meet rather dishy postman on way back from pond, who eyeing up my grey bobbly over washed wrap, asked where the ducks were. I pointed to the pond and made a dash for the house, just in time to bump into a ruddy jogger going through the yard on the footpath!

Proceed to hose down and bleach back step. Now in blue wellies and grey wrap, not a good look.
GOH goes off to work, without contact lenses - he can't manage them without me and couldn't find me. He is not a happy bunny.

Put on load of washing, eat breakfast, shower, etc etc and start the day.

On the back lawn stands a Roe deer, presumably just having had her fill of my David Austin roses. She looks very serene and content. I am far from this state.

Open post, several bills, final reminders and the usual rubbish.
In even worse mood now.

Now I have a hornet in the conservatory, its the size of a Zeppelin, believe me. I corner the bugger and squash it with the pole that opens the roof lights.
Its not even 9.00 am yet and I am exhausted.

My brother arrives to spray the set aside before the wind gets up and the spray drifts. I have to ring a couple of neighbours as one has a sensitive cat, and one is allergic to spray. My permanent grassland around the house is a joy but this year the thistles and sheep's parsley has taken such a hold it threatens to engulf the grass, and thus take over. We have never had to resort to this before. I am very anti-pesticides etc. I had rung DEFRA and got permission for this spray to be applied, and so brother carrys on. Under the set aside scheme we are not allowed to top or cut this grassland before the end of July so the weeds will seed even more if I do not do something now. I am assured by brother and DEFRA the wildlife will not be affected. I do hope so as I have owls,skylarks, finches,wood peckers,jays,rooks, crows, bats, mice, voles,moles, pheasants, partridges, rabbits and hares,roe and muntjac deer, not to mention Mr. Fox. As I said before, I am only lacking some big game, and I could sell tickets. DEFRA permitting of course!

I get on my mower and have a good hour, cutting some rough grass and doing a couple of stripy lawns. This is my therapy. It makes me feel good. I am thinking about tomorrow.

Then off to a little market garden about eight miles away to get my potting geraniums - I am rather fussy about my colours and I buy white, red and a new one called rose - a pretty salmon with a white centre. The owner takes me to see some that are flowering, as he knows how funny I am about these things, and they pass muster. He then wants to look over my car!! His wife wants one and he wondered what they were really like. Another half hour wasted. Its a six year old hatchback so hardly noteworthy.
Quick bite of lunch and field several calls for GOH, who is not on the farm today but in his Architectural office seeing clients.

Make up some beds as Son No 2 is home tomorrow for a funeral. Our lovely lady doctor who is only in her early 60's has succumbed to a brain tumour. Her children and ours all went to school together so they want to come home to support her son.
Poor C has now lost his father, his sister last year in her 20's also to a brain tumour and now his mother. Can it get any worse. The funeral is in our little village church, where my mum is scattered, and I have no idea where everyone will fit in as there must surely be hundreds there. She was a hoot. She wore extraordinary clothes and the highest heels and loads of makeup, and loved a drink. Try not to think about it.

Just time to finish weeding and hoeing the veg patch and then cook tea.
Sit down to watch a couple of soaps, and what do I get for my days toils, ruddy football. Whoopee do!!
And, yes, the ducks are back for their supper. The pheasants are on the terrace stealing some scraps I had put out for the cats.

Tomorrow - and I am dreading tomorrow - though I get to see the scrummy son,
will be a tear filled day I am sure. Perhaps I should not moan about my country day today. Duck poo doesn't seem so serious in the scheme of things.
I have just eaten six squares of Lindt chocolate to compensate. It hasn't helped.

I have taken a picture of the set aside so you get an idea of what I am talking about.