Monday, July 19, 2010

Chirpy chirpy

These are the last of my midwinter peppers.
My early morning work session this morning was broken by a frantic chirping from the house. I went through to rescue or put out of misery the bird that a cat was plainly persecuting.

I found the cat. Picked it up...

I couldn't find the bird. And yes I hunted high and low, and typically as soon as I was around the corner, it chirped again. Much peering on chairs under the table and behind seat covers and even in the wood-burner followed. And it kept playing this
chirpy game.

Finally I went back to the intent cat. Still sitting intent...

Peering at a tiny tree frog like the one that toured our salad, that nearly got roasted. A chirping frog. Maybe even the same Evel-knievel type daredevil mini-froglet.

I took it outside to dare another day.

I was hoping to print today for B and Clare to start proof-reading that first draft. But I ran out of ink and paper. Paper... even here on the island, was cheaper than South Africa. An ink cartridge for my bog-standard HP printer...

Not in Australia. Gas stove circus mark 2.

I've been gradually pulling apart the boxes of fishing junk I bought for $15 at the garage sale. Aside from reels and sinkers - worth a bit, I think I got some winners there. The lures - and there are a whole bag of soft-plastics still new too, are little old fashioned, and grubby (but can be cleaned), and some need new hooks - but there are new hooks in the box.

We had a look at the set nets too - neither are perfect but both are in reasonable nick. We're going to go and try one tomorrow morning. Part of the 'lets show Clare how we live' programme. Throw-netting and chainsaw practice today. kayaking out in the pre-dawn to set nets tomorrow.


  1. These mini-froglets seem to live on the edge.

  2. The poor little froglet was probably lost and unaware that he was trespassing. The surefire way to stop them from coming in is to write "Propriété Privé, Entrée Interdit" somewhere where they can see it

  3. The edge is certainly closing in on them, Martin

  4. Francis - I have, at frog height. Unfortunately despite stereotypes, they don't seem to read French.