I gave myself yet another surprise when I was putting together today's post. It's not like me to work on a post beforehand, except for the Friday Shoot Outs when I occasionally get my act together if I'm not going to be around to post it on Friday. I hit Publish by mistake, then immediately deleted the post. Too late, it seems, it has been visible but not accessible. Sorry if that puzzled anyone.
Morning seemed like a better time for a walk yesterday. I didn't go far, just up the track a bit to see the cows enjoying their morning feast. They looked like they were playing Bingo - "heads down and looking". They probably don't say that any more. Hell, for all I know people may not even play Bingo any more.
Good old Google knows! This is my day for surprises - you can play it on line! And I found three Kiwi Bingo supply shops with websites, so there is obviously a demand. I wonder if it's still an event in retirement villages?
I'm in danger of going off on a tangent and telling stories from the Bingo fundraising nights I used to help run for my ex's football club about 40 years ago.
OK, back to my other morning delights. I discovered carrot weed, which is such a jolly pest, looks quite beautiful before it flowers if you catch it at the right time of day covered in morning dew.
Around 9 am I checked the grass at the back of the house, where it is thickest, to see if it was dry enough to do the mowing . At the time the sky was nothing but blue with pure white fluffy clouds on the horizon. But rain was predicted and I wanted to get the lawn done, so I could enjoy it when it arrived - we need it! I did eventually mow it and still we've had nothing but a light drizzle this morning.
Back to yesterday morning ...I noticed a delicate web forming a tiny tent in the grass at my feet.
Once down there I spotted many of them. A gathering of gossamer tents.
I'll be off on another tangent. Can't even think the word gossamer without being back as a child, sitting on my grandmother's verandah (in those days a deck was on a boat) looking through her photo albums and newspaper clipping descriptions of wedddings. Always seemed to me then that the best brides got a "gossamer" somewhere in the description of their gown.