Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Black Gold, Bad Cats and Mad Woodpeckers
by admin - 22:26 on 06 May 2010
The value of my speculative stock portfolio has taken a battering since the unsuccessful drilling in the North Falkland Basin ended. My extensive holdings in oil exploration fell most days during the past few weeks until, this morning, they were down sixty per cent. Our hopes of an invitation to the Oil Barons' Ball looked remote.
But a few hours can make all the difference in high finance. Rumours of a strike sent share prices cautiously upwards; then higher again as excitement grew.
By the close of trading my portfolio was a mere ten per cent in the red – at this rate I could break even by the end of the week.
To celebrate I visited Dingwall's stetson emporium where I bought an oil tycoon's hat. I hope you like it.
The future for cats, however, looks less rosy. Bess continues to be harassed by roaming Romeo, who continues to suffer the water-filled squeezy bottle as punishment.
Mrs Montague takes a relaxed view of our chastisement of her pet. “Give him a boot,” she advised. “He's too dim to take a hint.”
The frisky feline may soon undergo the unkindest cut of all, if Mrs M gets round to organising a trip to Dr Death's clinic. Matchgirl is ready to pay for the operation herself. Bess might have the last laugh.
Avian Update: Snap quality is improving now that the goldfinches appear to be permanent fixtures in The Rural Retreat's garden. Still room for improvement, though.
Unusual woodpecker activity has been noted in the past two days. Mr W, after tiring of the peanut feeder on the apple tree, often flies to the adjacent Nutella Tree to peck at the lower trunk. When he gets bored he flies back to the apple tree, scatters the ground feeders at its base, then returns to The Nutella Tree. This must be fun, for he does it half-a-dozen times before leaving the garden.
We seem to have a psycho woodpecker. Bess had better watch out.
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