The tale of the tadpole and the eagle...

On Sunday some friends phoned out of the blue to say

they were coming to the village would it be okay to call.

My slumbering entertaining gene awoke...

"Come for supper!'  I said visibly brightened.

I love to cook for folk.

Bustling, you can't beat a good bustle; it's like pottering, you don't actually do anything,

just tidy up, making it look as if you are a Nigella of the dusting kind. 

'Oh shit!'  

Why is it that the very day we need a good size bird,

Ted has chosen a pathetic scrawny chicken!?

NO worries, we'll survive. 

Hazel and Ray arrived to find me peering into the pond,

watching the tadpoles wriggle, still encased in their

jelly sacks.

Me full of wonder, I turned and said

'You look suitably underwhelmed!'

We laughed and came in.

Having a tree nursery, they don't talk in furlongs,

acres are the name of their game.

So I suppose our little pond did look pathetic.

4.30pm too late for tea and cake...

Give 'em a drink.

I cracked on with the supper all the while talking and

drinking, like you do.

We had a leisurely meal all the while

talking, catching up with the news, like you do.

'You'll never guess what happened to me the other day?'

'No go on tell!'

'Well I was ironing in the kitchen when all of a sudden there

was a huge clatter on the window behind me I turned to see an eagle

had winded itself by flying into the window!'

'An eagle?'

By this time wine had been drunk,

even so our incredulity was stretched.

'An eagle?'

Well you could have knocked me down with a feather.

She went on to say after phoning around friends in the area,
the story came to light of someone that had lost an eagle a few days before.
The eagle was still sitting, weak and dazed on the fence when its relieved owner
came to collect it.
A happy end to the story.
While the talk of a wildlife kind flowed, I decided it
was time for me to check on my wildlife; alright
tadpoles aren't in the same league and no we only talk of yardage
on our nature reserve... but still.
Off I trotted in my much loved Turkish slippers
to check on our babies, and the newly installed
solar fountain.
'Oh dear it's fallen in the water'
I thought in true Little Jim, Goon tradition.
Leaning across to straighten it...
I followed in short order...
Splash!
The frog flew out like a naked lady out of a birthday cake,
the tadpoles were seismically rocked in their cots,
the clear pond water resembled brown Windsor soup,
as with the dignity of an upended turtle I got out.

Dripping, I returned to the chattering fray.
should I limbo-dance past with ne'er a word hoping they won't notice?
As I don't do lying, I decided that I would man up and be the butt of the firing line of
guffaws and rude ripostes.
They flew thick and fast as I dripped up the stairs to change.
My feeble
 'Look it wasn't my fault; it was the shiny bottoms of the slippers that
slipped on the mossy stones!'
Brought about even more gales of laughter.

The thank you email from Hazel said
'I hope you've dried out now Lin?'

Bloody cheek!