Hunting

Today, up at the horse riding place, this kitten/cat was hunting. I'm sure it says a lot that I was taking photos even though it was hunting my cat-allergic son... (In my defence I only took the one shot before shooing it away; that is also my excuse for lack of focus.)

Earlier, there had been a dash to get the girls to school on time, then a dash home in search of a forgotten book in case TallGirl got a bad credit for forgetting it, then some home provisioning (if you can call making Vin de Pêches, Plum liqueur and limoncello, provisioning...) Much washing (31 degrees forcast today which, in my books, is good drying weather) and a small amount of planning stuff. An unexpected job fell in my lap (well, arrived ringing the doorbell really) later - we'll see how that pans out - though delightfully it may involve making friends with an artisanal baker, which can never be a bad thing.

Later still, a bunch of boys made merry in the house, then some dashing around to do the Wednesday list of clubs and things. Happily CarbBoy's lacerations yesterday meant he did not want to try out karate this week, but TallGirl's last minute invitation to a birthday party (is it against the law here to send them out more than 4 days in advance?) meant a hurried shopping trip with her. But I made friends with a new (to me) plant shop and re-made the acquaintance of the butcher I've not been to for a while (he's getting me a pork belly for tomorrow - must remember to go and get it) so despite the crazy rushing across a dug-up with roadworks town, it was worth it.

Downton catchup with TallGirl and then some hunting of my own on-line for a pair of trousers. Where have all the decent trousers gone? Does everything have to be skin tight and tapered? How is that even flattering? And really do all the skirts have to be so short? And when did I get so middle-aged?

And is this cat blurry enough that it counts as a grass blip, not a cat blip?