However, they never lose their forensic stare even though it may now be underlined by under-eye bags. Especially after an autumnly-cool night during which their slumber was interrupted by two little Maltese wanting to go out for a pee (and at my age I never miss a diuretic opportunity to join them ☺).
And, being an old accountant, let me give you an account of what's been moving and shaking my little world at "Riverbend":
I've attended to my home maintenance although I've yet to climb the roof to remove the old flue - see here.
And my old mate Ian Paterson has relocated his retirement abode to tropical Port Douglas which at this particular time of year brings out all the envy I can muster. Oh to be old and free!
And, finally, the 21st century has come to Sproxton Lane in the shape of tree-lopping machinery followed by graders and dozers and a whole bunch of workers clad in safety vests leaning on their shovels to stop them from falling over (each other?)
And the meaning of all this? Bitumen is coming and the sylvan lane will be sylvan no more.
As soon as I've got over the shock, I shall show and tell you more.
