Windfalls, and the wind blows

This week I have been helping clear up after the storm.  M&D required my assistance. (By the way, why is it that whenever they say assistance, they do that thing with the quote signs in the air?  It’s a mystery to me.)

First I helped Mum pickup the windfall apples.  She did well, but seemed to miss an important step, that is, eating every apple you pick up.  I mean, what’s the point of picking up a food item if you don’t eat it?

But then I heard the sound of the brown wheelie bin being pulled across the lawn by Dad towards a pile of sticks that had blown down from the big tree and he had gathered into a neat pile.  I mean … WOW! a big pile of STICKS!  No-one told me THAT was there.  Dad bent to pick some up.

“Wait! I can help with that,” said I and dived in to help.  What fun we had, although Dad did a lot of sighing and rebuilding of the pile.  There was also a lot of laughing and encouraging cries, such as “Muppet!” as I intercepted the sticks on the way from ground to bin, and took them on a whirlwind tour of the garden.

Next job was to take down the runner beans, which involved even more sticks – six foot long ones.  Why didn’t I know THEY were there.  I mean six foot long STICKS.  This time though they weren’t put on the ground for me, but into a wire mesh cage around the raised bed.  Where’s the fun in that?  Still I can help sort out the remaining few beans from the stalks.  (By the way, I wonder why they put that cage there?) [Ed: Yes, I wonder, Angus – could it have been related to the PYO carrots incidents last year?]

I decided to  go pick up some more apples.  Except there weren’t any left on the ground.  Oh well, there’re are plenty still on the trees, I’ll just have to PYO again.  Let’s see, which tree… ooh yes, Cox’s are my favourites.  They’re a bit high though.  Oh well I’ll have to jump – after all, we Labradors are famed for our agility.  Labradors and Jack Russells have this innate ability.   Five apples and five shouts of “Angus!” later I was bundled into the house amid dark mutterings.

That evening I joined them as they watched a film.  There were some disturbing rumbles in my tummy.  I thought they were watching a horror movie because they kept crying out “Oh, nooooo!”  “”Phhhwawwww!”  “Eurrrgh!” “Oh no, he’s done it again!” and they tried to bring me into it with an expletive-ridden, Oh FFS Angus!”

Frankly my dears, I don’t give a damn.

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