Further to my last post here about the crooning that woke me in the middle of the night – which turned out to be a cat defending its prey, rather than one of the locals serenading me outside my window – I’ve been watching one of the semi-ferals play with a rat in the wet grass this afternoon. He was keen on bringing it up to the verandah for me to have my part, but I assured him I wasn’t hungry, so he shared it with one of his brothers instead.
Continue reading “cosas de caza”
Category: village life
a prowl of cats in the night
I was woken in the wee shall hours by cats growling on the verandah. It wasn’t the wailing and wauling of the queen calling the neighbours’ toms – no need, she’s already pregnant again – and it sounded quite unfriendly, so I got up to check there were no forasteros about.
No one ran when I opened the door: the shadows were apparently all members of our own semi-feral tribe. But the growling continued.
Then I identified the sound as the possessive crooning they make when they have caught something and are warning the others away.
a woman’s work
I get very irritated about all the different ‘international day of this’ and ‘world day for that’ events. Particularly when there seems to be so little consensus about the celebrations. (I’ve commented before on how the UK celebrate an entirely different World Book Day from the rest of the planet and I always miss it – though I do remember the one on April 23rd. )
Be that as it may, Google has reminded me that today is International Women’s Day, and I find from clicking their commemorative logo that it’s the 100th anniversary of the event and that women around the world will be standing on bridges to celebrate. Continue reading “a woman’s work”
moral education
I am intrigued by the institution in the photo:
I’m not sure if the C.E. is centro educativo or centro de educación, but, either way, it looks like they will try and give students a moral education.
Continue reading “moral education”
dewi sant
I’ve been keeping an eye on the daffs outside my window for the last month and wondering if they’d make it out in time.
In the end, despite showing colour for a week now, they haven’t. Perhaps later on today, if the sun keeps shining, they will unfurl their yellow flounces in celebration of St David’s day.
Mind you, they aren’t real daffs, anyway, as they are multi-petalled, double flowers, not the clear bright-trumpeted kind that line the road down to South Wales.
(For information about the wild daffodils of Britain, check out the I Hate Daffodils! website.)
Continue reading “dewi sant”
don't confuse the narrator 