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The door

The house is still keeping me busy, we’ve blown a lot of the budget on the big things and now I’m left with mostly small things to play with inside.  The biggest splurge on the house in general has been the windows.  The old ones looked just about passable … from a distance. 

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But what a difference the new ones have made.  We’ve gone from a semi-secure, noisy wind box to a quiet, warm fortress.  Goodness only knows how the tennants kept the place warm last winter.

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The survey more or less said it would be more cost effective to change all of the windows as a package rather than just fix the broken ones and we had already decided to replace them so the budget was there ready but I had no idea how bad the old ones really were until the new ones were in.

And the door?  Well, see for yourself.

It’s the only red door in a whole row of white ones, and yes, it cost more than a  white one would have, but if you count what it’s worth in smiles, it’s already priceless. 

2017-09. Door

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Ugly ducklings

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I’ve been watching a family of swans on the nature reserve, a mum and dad, and five babies, they seem to have chosen a spot on the road side of the lake to mark as their own and I walk past this spot on my way to and from work.

I noticed them within days of moving here and the babies, cygnets, were already grown to a size bigger than their neighbouring ducks. At first the parents were very vocal, they’d hiss if I passed by too closely to their little ones but more recently they just give a wary stare to any passers-by.

I watched the babies progress as they grew towards being as tall and as strong as their parents, I got excited at the appearance of their first white feathers, I would wonder, like the mother hen that I am, where they were and what they were up to if they weren’t “at home” when I passed.

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One afternoon I saw them on their way back from a family outing. They caused quite a stir in the busy carpark as they waddled their way home.

More recently though, when I’ve spotted them one of the babies seemed to be missing, I spotted mum, dad, and four babies swimming quite happily across the other side of the lake and wondered what had happened to the fifth. Was he stuck somewhere, had he net with a road accident?

I noticed I was instinctively calling this baby he, I was putting human actions onto the family and just assuming the difficult baby was male, I then thought of more animal type relationships and, again thinking of our missing baby as male, wondered if he’d gotten big enough to be a threat to the dad and been chased off.  I was just guessing so I did what I usually do if I don’t know something, I asked Mr Google. 

Mr Google seems to think that as the baby swans get bigger it’s time to leave the protection of their parents and the white feathers signify this time. The males do grow faster than the females so my guess that the first to go would be a male seems to be a pretty good guess, but where was he? And was he OK?

It seems I was worrying about nothing, as a couple of days later I spotted him on the other end of the lake… Out playing with the big boys. ? 

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          More from before: Semi-retirement by the seaside in “Weymouth

Guerilla seagulls

          You must know by now that I’m a big fan of  “Yarn bombing“, or “Guerilla knitting”, as it has otherwise become known but the knitter or possibly knitters of Weymouth have done themselves proud this weekend.

          Lots of little seagulls appeared on top of the posts of my favourite railings and caused smiles to explode amongst the holiday makers along the prom.

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          There was a bit of a stand-off between these two seagulls though, one on the post and the other claiming his territory on top of the bin.

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          This addition was a little crabby …

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          But for me, Mr Cool Seagull won the day.

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          And then curiouser and curiouser … as quickly as they’d appeared for yesterday’s frivolities… today they were gone.

          More from before: Semi-retirement by the seaside in “Weymouth