The Curling Pond.

We took the dogs to the curling pond today, it's not too far from home and so it avoided bringing dirty dogs into contact with clean car, it won't last long. It's so long since the pond was used for its intended purpose that I don't suppose that there's anyone left alive who has ever curled there. It now serves as a small nature reserve but it is in need of a bit of maintenance at the moment. We long ago stopped taking dogs there in the evening, it disturbed the resident heron as he was finding his supper and we were not too happy about that. There's a rowan tree planted there as a memorial to an old friend, I know of two others but none of them thrive; favourite places for memorials do not seem to provide a rowan with its preferred habitat.

We spent the afternoon tidying up the garden; Mrs TD managed to cut her finger with the secateurs, presumably having mistaken it for a twig. I do worry about her wandering around with anything sharp in her hand. I did think about blipping the tissue that she used to staunch the flow but it was a bit gory. Did I ever tell you about the time I spent a night in casualty with her because she thought she had swallowed some sewing pins? If she did, they must have gone in blunt end first as there were never any complications.