Morning delights

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.