Alice has a cluster of flies below her left eye:
my plans for the day are shot.
It was always going to be complicated:
start with the quad run for water
order supplies including brine for the heat pump
(this means spending time in the office on the raised deck
the pile of paperwork may not diminish greatly
but I get a great view of the swallows swooping into their nests)
Weeding, of course-
O- and I fnd my grinder shelf
makes a good swift-box
just in case I can tempt yesterday’s visitors to make this their home.
It does, of course, mean I will have make a new grinder shelf.
But Alice has a cluster of bluebottles clinging to a spot below her left eye.
This takes over.
If she has a wound, even a small one, the flies will be in
and lay eggs.
Unchecked, she will hatch a brood of subcutaneous maggots:
a horrible and dangerous thing.
Open the gate, call them through, rattling the feed bag, lead them to the yard, close them in, prepare the dose gun against general summer parasites, dose them, let them though, isolate the patient-
-who has absolutely nothing wrong with her.
It is a chance to inspect my animals closely, pet them when permitted, gain a sense of their wellbeing-
including little George, who has survived despite an aversion to mother’s milk.
He has not grown much, his rear is caked in dung,
he wanders benignly about on rickety legs -like an elderly academic-
but he follows the rest up to the yard-
still part of the story.