Hunting for lions

Beanio had her head in the long grass for much of our walk today. I'm not sure what was in there, but there were obviously some really fabulous beasties.

My best guess is lions. Shy ones.

It has been a lovely busy day, which kicked off at -1C and peaked at 19C this afternoon. So I did the kitchen tasks while it was still cold - prepping apples to dehydrate, mouli-ing yesterday's squash soup, and getting things ready for cheese-making.

I made a Romano cheese, which is now in the cheese press for 24 hours. 

As the weather warmed up I interspersed cheesing with garden work. The squash plants all keeled over in the frosts, so I pulled and mowed them up to be composted. 

Since the mower was out I decided to cut all the areas of what is normally short grass, but which has become mostly weeds and tufty grasses, with extensive dusty gaps in between. It looks much tidier now and I probably won't need to cut it again for weeks, or months, depending upon the continuing drought and impending winter weather. 

I feel as though I'm surrounded by illness at the moment. Too many of my loved ones are unwell: several of them quite seriously. It is a reminder of mortality which is giving me unusual pause. 

I have no fear of death, but I do worry about the loneliness of my most-loved people dying before me. Maybe we all feel the same as we age - indeed, if we are given the good fortune to age. 

It is what a friend calls 'negotiating the minefield of age'.