The Time Bandits.

Today was quite a day, but then, so was yesterday though it may be a few days before I get around to yesterday; it was also a day of foxy coincidences.
 
I was late waking up this morning; late is a relative term in that I was up at eight with a cold oven and a pile of cheese scones to make. We’ve had a new thermostat fitted since I made the last batch for last year’s Teas in the Park (a jamboree celebrating Roslin Glen). In spite of having turned the oven on before eating breakfast, when the first batch of scones went in – they refused to cook. They eventually took 35 minutes instead of the prescribed 15 and I had to turn them over half way through to cook their bottoms and, remarkably, they tasted o.k; the second batch didn’t happen. While this was going on, Jnr announced that his shiny new camera trap had caught a fox last night,having caught a handful of hedgehogs on previous nights – though it might have been one hedgehog several times. I’m beginning to see the usefulness of such a device; although we’ve seen the odd hedgehog in the garden and know that there are foxes in the area, we were not aware that they were regular visitors.
 
The knees-up was good although we only had one band, usually there are three to give variety; featured in the Blip are "The Time Bandits” geein it laldy, ably supported by Cat who is the subject of the first extra. I was immediately reminded of “Four Old Geezers and a Valkyrie,” the book I’m frantically reading for the book group meeting tomorrow about a local band trying to cash in on the internet music revolution. Even their choice of music seemed to fit.
 
As always, there were several stalls with activities for children, including identifying the skulls manned by “The Wildlife Information Centre.” Having muddled up the badger with the pig, as most people did (a badger is smaller than you think and a pig has a surprisingly long snout). It was around here that I bumped into Flumgummery; that is, she accosted me with the words, "Are you TrikinDave?" It was a very short Blip-meet, we didn't even have a coffee together, but then the "Friends" do make a lousy cup of Nescafe, though I say so myself. It was still nice to meet you  even though I didn't see any sign of the Flums.

I had a phone call from Mrs TD to say that a neighbour had found a fox up one of our trees over-hanging the pavement and could I come and remove it. This is where I suggest that you stop reading if you are a) of a sensitive disposition or, b) eating your lunch. The fox was well and truly dead when I arrived home; in fact, I guessed that it had been well and truly dead for nearly a week. I also guessed that it had climbed the tree to raid a bird’s nest and had slipped - tangling itself in the mass of clematis stems that encase the tree; the poor creature would have hung there until it died but, mercifully, that wouldn’t have taken long.
I returned to the Glen to consult the man at the Wildlife Information Centre who confirmed that, a) foxes do climb trees to raid nests, b) that my observations and knowledge of the entomological details did suggest it had been dead for six or seven days and c) what I hadn’t realised, that being suspended by its hind-quarters, it would have quickly become exhausted and been unable to breath due to its own weight and so would have soon asphyxiated. By the time I had Reynard out of the tree, Jnr had already dug a grave for him and he now lies buried alongside the numerous cats and dogs that have died while in our custody.

As a footnote, the ladies manning the refreshment tent forgot to put my scones on display; we'll be eating them toasted for some days to come.