I just read the Farm Manager’s latest post, “Gravity.” What a bunch of malarkey.
“The Bartender to the rescue,” oh sure. He dragged that branch in, all right. He was in and out of the aviary half a dozen times. He picked through the tools, exchanging one and then another, until he had half of Ace Hardware sitting on the picnic table.
The Farm Manager was doing her regular thing, feeding the cats, keeping Pearly Mae the hungry hen from eating all of it. Checking on the pigeons and doves, not my problem, by the way. They’re locked up. She’s tossing lettuce here and there and I follow, taking a bite out of each piece. Like a poison tester, I check each and every leaf for cooties. And distribute mine.
She heads back to the dilapidated sink, and I hear a shriek. “Hamish, get out of here!” LOL, it took her all that time to figure out that Hamish had snuck past The Bartender as he entered the aviary. Hamish had headed straight for the chicken feed, per usual, and managed to scarf down enough, I might say, to give a sheep quite a tummy ache. To her credit, she had
Sneaky Pete Hamish out of there in a New York minute.
She was muttering about this and that for a while after, especially to The Bartender. I’m not sure he even realized Hamish had made a fool of him, even as he watched Hamish being expertly escorted the heck out of there, right past his oblivious nose.
Well, I gotta go. Charlie is planning a New Year’s Eve celebration and I think it includes a packet of saltines I saw him sneak out of the Farm manager’s pocket.
Gus an ath bhliadhna! (Until next year)