A Sunday morning lie in is one of life’s little pleasures. These days I seldom get a lie in. Most mornings will find me up bright and early, scrambling eggs and making porridge for guests who want to be on the road at first light (you’ve got to admire their enthusiasm!!)
Yesterday evening, our guests asked, would I mind if they had a late breakfast. Late being 10a.m.
MIND? Certainly not. I actively love the late breakfast brigade.
I allowed myself to stay up later than usual, on account of the lie in. Took my time, read a book and drifted off to a blissful sleep.
Until…. I woke some time later feeling half cooked.
I threw off the duvet and opened the windows. We are having a heat wave. Heat waves are a pretty rare occurrence here in Ireland. Far be it from me to complain about a bit of sunshine, but the unaccustomed heat has it’s draw backs. The biggest of these being the swarms of small biting insects which appear out of nowhere and feast on blood.
Quick as a flash, the small biting insects spotted the open windows and came to dine on me and my beloved.
We sweated and itched. My beloved snored. I prodded him.
Some time later there was a prolonged blood curdling bray. It wasn’t my beloved. It was just the new donkey being a bad ass.
Recently we acquired a donkey which badly needs gelding. He’s suffering from his hormones and nightime is kind of hard on the poor guy.
I itched some more, before drifting into a half sleep.
The next interruption came from what sounded like an old man standing outside my window and shouting his head off. What was he shouting?
BAH. BAAAAH. BAHHHH!!!
My first thought was that it must be a distressed guest, but no, it was a sheep.
Have you ever listened to sheep? They really do sound like grumpy old men.
My German Shephard had a big old bark round about 3 a.m. She had been stationed in the vegetable patch with a brief to scare off the marauding deer who had eaten my chard the previous night. She performed admirably. GOOD GIRL WILLOW.
Mother Nature then roused me from my slumber with what sounded like a very loud ratchet. It was a magpie.
This is what google has to say about magpies.
The magpie is a distinctive looking bird, with glossy black and brilliant white markings. Its sound is nearly as striking, famously noisy and almost jarring. This has led to another meaning of magpie, someone who talks obnoxiously.
The obnoxious chatter continued for some time and then my own thought process kicked in. So I lay there pondering life; the exams my two teenagers are going to sit on Wednesday- the fact that they haven’t studied enough; the list of jobs that are awaiting me…the bills that need to be paid…
Then I woke up. Realised that it was 9.40. GASP! That I only had twenty minutes to deliver breakfast to my guests-with the standard, cheery greeting:
“Good morning- Hope you slept well!!”