Update on the dentist. After three visits and 90 minutes of dentist's activity in my mouth, the root canal has finally been fixed. It took 7 injections, 5 x-rays and a week's worth of antibiotics as well as two packings of the tooth with antiseptic wadding. Not to speak of my pain and suffering. I now have a mortgage to pay for the work. There is no NHS dentist round here.
As the trees round here close down for the winter their colours are showing like a Leonardo palette. There is a tall ash tree in one of the fields I walk the dog in which is such a pale green that it is very nearly yellow. Oak trees are turning yellow-green with patches of reddy-brown. A recent journey up the A21 to the M25 and along that monstrosity northwards to Dartford Tunnel was a real treat. Not the traffic, you understand, but the colours along hedges and in woods on either side of the road. Soon the view will be of leafless trees. And no colour until the end of March at the earliest. Oh dear.
The work the groundsman did on the cricket pitch with aerator, fertiliser and grass seed when he put it to bed for the winter is already apparent. The grass in the fenced-off pitch is both greener and taller than in the outfield. Can't wait for next cricket season to begin. But first the sheep have to be let in to graze and fertilise the outfield. In the mean time I will have to put up with the coarse shouts of footballers as they play on the rough pitch adjacent to the cricket field. (They don't have a groundsman.) I do look forward to the day-long battle of a cricket match and the polite clapping of players and audience.
There are plenty of pheasants wandering round the countryside at the moment. Their harsh calls fill the air. There won't be all that many left by the end of January. Are they aware that they have been bred for target practice and then the table? There was a pair of cock pheasants arguing the toss in a field the other day when my dog decided to break it up. He nearly caught one of them. Not that he would have known what to do once he had it in his mouth. He's a daft Black Labrador. I would have helped him kill and eat it. No. I wouldn't have even given him a taste.
Talking of birds, the tawny owls are still about hunting every night. So that means there are plenty of small mammals out there. Fortunately, my new mousetrap in the shed has failed to kill any mice for six weeks now. Perhaps it will be required later in the winter when the warmth and rubbish in the shed attracts wood mice.
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