tempus fugit

By ceridwen

Reynard was here!

Released (or should I say expelled?) from the kitchen for the evening the dog and I took a walk down to the valley. As we approached the edge of the woodland here we saw a flash of copper as a fox streaked away, highlighted by the lowering sun.

Casey scented the beast but having no hunting instinct at all he didn't pursue which is just as well as foxes carry a pernicious sort of mange which can be transmitted to dogs. Although foxes have decimated my poultry flock over the years I bear them no grudge. I am not a vegetarian either.

Back home, three youthful chefs were at work under the leadership of my elder son. After 2 or 3 hours of sizzling, smoking, steaming and swearing, the supper table was graced with a Chinese banquet of crispy pork belly steamed buns, braised ox tongue, clay bowl chicken and dishes of green beans and of courgettes, accompanied with last year's home-made cider.

The washing-up took me until 1 am but what the hell? It was a feast fit for forty foxes!

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