Soggy Saturday in Suburbia

Outside the rain still falls.

The squirrels continue to indulge in a three or four-way battle for possession of the feeder.
Apparently one is pregnant and one is male, but I am a townie, so haven't got a clue...
Neither am I familiar enough with their markings to tell them apart or be certain how many visit our garden on a regular basis. Sometimes there are four in the adjacent trees, but one at least lives in the garden of a house in the next street, so that particular squirrel really is a trespasser. Tut!

Yes, we feed the squirrels, as we love watching their antics as they hang upside down, retreiving the food. The cost of 12kg bags of peanuts seems good wages for the hours of entertainment they provide.

The magpies are nesting high in the oaks at the bottom of the garden, so there have been some tense moments between them and the squirrels. I am not sure whose nest was being threatened by whom, but lots of flutterings, squawking and squirrel swearing has taken place.

Then we are cat-sitting, so add that to the mix.
I remonstrate with her if I see her stalking the birds. I have no desire to deal with a bloody decapitated carcass.

The excitement intensifies, as a dog is being taken for a walk along Shit Alley behind our boundary. You will not see that name on any map, but the dogs do not yet seem to have trained their owners to clear up after the purpose of the walk has been achieved. When we are on our guard, we are OK, but sooner or later someone gets complacent and rather than Shit Creek, it is Shit Alley. This week DH came a cropper...

Back to the dog, who may, for all I know, have trained his owner.  He discovers the cat's escape route and more than fills it with his delightful doggy face. Delightful, because it is the other side of the fence and cannot slobber all over me. He looks with great interest upon the wonderful world of our garden.  From the doorway I greet him
"Hello, how nice of you to drop in."
He's either yanked back by his embarrassed owner, or retreats in surprise at my welcome. Given the accompanying undignified, but indignant, yelp I am inclined to guess the former.
Now the dog has departed, the cat stomps off out of the garden, to continue her bird and rodent harassment unharassed elsewhere,
If you thought spring was a time of peace and harmony, you haven't visited our patch.

The buds are definitely thickening, and our view is changing by the day. The distant hills are now hidden by a profusion of foliage, of a startling array of greens.

From my vantage point overlooking the garden, I send a document to the printer.
Wireless technology is great.
It fails to print.
Wireless technology is great, when it works.
DH presses lots of buttons before deciding to replace the ink cartridges.
He then discovers that we have no 'magenta'.
Wireless technology is great when you have enough ink.
In fairness to the printer, it does inform us we are low on ink, but we ignore the warnings, calling the printer's bluff. It stops working on the day I need to print.
We decide to visit Tesco, it's an opportunity for him to browse their free-from range.
We locate the ink cartidges, mentally take out a mortgage, and vow to buy online in future BEFORE we run out. Time will tell if we can accomplish this.

I cheer myself up by taking a photo of some delightful garden decorations and texting the picture to someone I know who will detest them...

We return to find the cat in bed, awaiting her next meal. She stirs enough to glare at the magpies and starlings, but it is raining again, so she doesn't take her intentions further than the observation stage.

Other things I have learnt today - the cat doesn't like Bob Dylan...
I tell her it is the words that matter.
however, as far as I can tell she is indifferent to the words, but the mouth organ is another matter...

The cat returns once Bob Dylan has completed his lament and asks DH for more food.
Without any effort, I appear to have trained her well.

Another soggy Saturday in suburbia, but what will tomorrow bring?