But, then again . . . . .

By TrikinDave

An Old Friend.

 . . . . . . . . Or, at least, a descendant of an old friend. This youngster climbed up the bird feeder early this morning – only to find that the starlings had already taken all the peanut butter. Ratty is safe enough up there but, yesterday, I saw one of its siblings disappearing into the local ginger cat; sadly, it didn’t qualify for a Christian or, even, a pagan burial.
 
The afternoon was spent in Peebles at a bee keeping meeting; they have some fantastic dark bees there which were a delight to see. I have one fairly dark colony myself but still found myself feeling very jealous. I knew that they were running a black bee project, but it faltered a bit last year when the couple who were managing it separated and left the area in opposite directions. A sad event on several fronts.
 
The torrential downpour during the subsequent picnic was a minor inconvenience with both the mood and the conversation remaining undampened, which is more than could be said for either the sandwiches or my bee suit.

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