HAPPY NEW YEAR!
SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS
Fidget - "You can have enough of snow...."
.....AND NOT A DROP TO DRINK
Words fail me. At least the man responsible for ...
A PERFECT DAY
Living well on pinhead oatmeal and Royal Canin......
The first part of the road out - before shovellin...
EMAIL ME .
Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"
Sunday, January 16, 2011
I did visit my waterless relatives at New Year, and after some weeks without they were coping quite well. The loo was stocked with buckets of murky river water, some of them with suspicious movement in their depths - however, they fulfilled the function. Bottles for the rest. We had a jolly time despite it all, with turkey and all the trimmings. All dogs had been brought into the house due to the extreme cold.
And then we had the thaw. Suddenly I could walk anywhere. It felt like summer!
And last week, coming home, I met Hawkman on the road. Just walking up with his Harris hawk on his wrist. He had been flying the rather nervy bird at rabbits, of which we have a horrendously enormous population. But he had spotted my lot, and said he would not be coming over to me, as she had been "very interested" in the small dogs.
I was in some doubt as to what would eat who if it came to an attack, knowing that my lot define all birds, talons or not, as "crunchy", but said that indeed that would be best.
He kindly offered to supply me with rabbits.
It immediately took me back to childhood, after the war, when we ate what we could get. I am no stranger to whalemeat (doesn`t taste like chicken!) and have strong memories of endless rabbit. I can see my mother yet, flouring those rabbit joints, making pies and stews. I think it would take Escoffier come back from the dead to enthuse me about rabbit.
And I am now lazy about preparation, and perhaps not so strong in the hands. They tell you that all you have to do is cut round the paws and along the belly, get a good grip of the skin, and with one good pull it comes off.
This, unless your surname is Schwarzenegger, is a flat lie, friends. My efforts at skinning rabbits and hares are not something I will be boasting of. (I`m not too good at plucking, either).
Still, we are back to austerity now, and free food is free food.
I may yet go on the bunny diet.