My cat Fluffy, the blind one, was sitting in the garden concentrating on a twig of one of my buddleia (butterfly bushes), so I wondered what he had had a sniff of. Sitting on a leaf almost hidden from view was the grasshopper as above. I naturally fetched my camera and made a few photos. This was the only one that was clear enough to show, grasshoppers just don't like being photographed. We always get a few during the summer, but this summer did not seem to be grasshopper weather. Fluffy was fascinated by this insect and just would not leave it alone. I put my camera away and came back to the garden. What did I see - two grasshopper legs poking out of each side of Fluffy's mouth, he had already devoured the head and shoulders. I suppose it's nature. Like all good cats he had a good washing sessions afterwards as if to make the most of his protein rich evening meal. I just wonder how a blind cat manages to find such things.
Another event this evening was clearing out the cellar and putting out the rubbish. Tomorrow morning is the big collection and more or less anything is taken. I took a few photos of the deposits outside where we live and would add not all was from us. The gentleman with his back to us is my husband, and the tall bloke is my oldest son Patrick. Although he is autistic, he is completely there to help when you need a strong person. The large black trunk in the picture has been with us for many years. When my husband went to England for a year to learn english his parents bought the trunk for the transport of his luggage. In those days it was done more than today. We have kept it since, but it is just not ideal in the modern days for travelling. Actually we got rid of quite a lot and now have some space in the cellar to be able to collect more rubbish for the next collection next Spring. Someone once said to me you should live as if you were going to move every month, and there is a bit of truth in it.
As soon as people had put the stuff out I noticed three or four cars driving past very slowly. A young man even came up to us and asked if the trunk could be had. We told him it would be ok, but when he found out there were no drawers in it he left it. In the big towns there are sometimes fights about the stuff left to be collected. Various families and groups organise themselves and the wife sits on the rubbish put out until the family comes with a transporter to take it away. I won't go into details about the nationalities of the people that take the stuff, but some are Swiss. As I sit here writing, my window looks out towards the path and I hear the sound of people pushing trolleys down to the corner where the rubbish is being collected.
Another event this evening was clearing out the cellar and putting out the rubbish. Tomorrow morning is the big collection and more or less anything is taken. I took a few photos of the deposits outside where we live and would add not all was from us. The gentleman with his back to us is my husband, and the tall bloke is my oldest son Patrick. Although he is autistic, he is completely there to help when you need a strong person. The large black trunk in the picture has been with us for many years. When my husband went to England for a year to learn english his parents bought the trunk for the transport of his luggage. In those days it was done more than today. We have kept it since, but it is just not ideal in the modern days for travelling. Actually we got rid of quite a lot and now have some space in the cellar to be able to collect more rubbish for the next collection next Spring. Someone once said to me you should live as if you were going to move every month, and there is a bit of truth in it.
As soon as people had put the stuff out I noticed three or four cars driving past very slowly. A young man even came up to us and asked if the trunk could be had. We told him it would be ok, but when he found out there were no drawers in it he left it. In the big towns there are sometimes fights about the stuff left to be collected. Various families and groups organise themselves and the wife sits on the rubbish put out until the family comes with a transporter to take it away. I won't go into details about the nationalities of the people that take the stuff, but some are Swiss. As I sit here writing, my window looks out towards the path and I hear the sound of people pushing trolleys down to the corner where the rubbish is being collected.
No comments:
Post a Comment