A bit of chitter chatter

I did a little five mile local walk today, just to keep my hand in and to stop my muscles from seizing up. No not loads more photo's, just the one, which I had to lie down on my back in a ditch to take. I thought it was a bit different.

Talking of photo's, thank you for your comments on my last post, I very much appreciate it. I am a little bit disappointed however that although I post photo's at the biggest size allowed, they are not big enough. It would be a better if the width of the photo was the same width as the text. When I put them on the walking forum they are bigger and look so much better. I know you can click on them and a new page opens with the photo blown up, but then it is too big to fit on the screen, and you have to scroll sideways, not ideal.

I am to become the chief litter picker in my village. That's as soon as the council gets their finger out and provides me with a picking stick and some black bags. I contacted the secretary of our parish council to volunteer my services, she then contacted the council offices in town, and I had an email from her to say someone would be in touch with me. That was over two weeks ago, I emailed her to say I'd heard nothing. At last they contacted me and said they would drop the equipment off at my house. I am not holding my breath, everything is so long winded with the council. We will be knee high in rubbish by the time it arrives.

I decided to offer to do this job, (a) because I already walk around the village dog walking anyway, and (b) I am sick of seeing the mess. It is mostly wrappings and cans that the youngsters throw down, despite the fact we have enough bins. I think the only way to deal with the problem is to do battle with the little beggars, why should a few people spoil things for the many people who are proud to live here. I can see me becoming about as popular as Linda Snell in The Archers, a noseying busybody, ha ha.

I went to donate blood yesterday, but they didn't want it. Another low iron level reading. Oh dear, I am going to have to up the Guiness intake, and maybe a bottle of red wine will help just before my next attempt to donate.

Remember Mr Beasley, the cantankerous but lovely pussy cat that won't stay at home. I walked past the bungalow where he used to live yesterday, calling his name, just in case he was about. I often do this but he is not usually there, mainly because someone else has picked him up and taken him back home. Well yesterday he came running to me when I called, I quickly grabbed hold of him and virtually ran home with him clutched tightly to my body. After he scoffed two pouches of Felix cat food, I rang his owner, put him in a cat carrier, and drove him home.

Once again his owner was gratefull to get him back. We don't know how to stop him from doing this. His home is down the hill over half a mile away, yet he keeps coming back up to the bungalow. As soon as he was let loose in the house, he was on the sofa enjoying lots of cuddles, purring like mad and rolling about, obviously pleased to be back. I bet he thinks we are right mugs. All he has to do is go for a stroll, get fed lots of food, and get a car ride back again. I think I'm being taken for a ride. But he is lovely though. Toodle Pip.