Macanultaigh

Obviously! Intellectual hens.

Apparently, it comes on at dusk and encourages them to bed.

Am heading up soon. Day spent assembling posh hen run. The automatic door and internal light were the main problems.
Finishing off tomorrow
Goodnight Wülferhampton.

Egads. Hope everything is okay eventually.

In local news, an "independent"* councillor has called a quite nice and respectable small local pub in (a now deleted) mispelled Facebook post a drug den. He says he was hacked.

Most likely brain hacked by half a litre of supermarket blended scotch.

*Former Tory, leaning Reform

It is a posh hen house. Very easy to clean and has an automatic opening & shutting door.
Absolutely pain in the arse to.put up, but will be worth it when we no longer have let them out as the first thing one of us does every morning.

I have disassembled the small greenhouse. I have assembled Eglu Go, which is now on the dining table while I try to fit the automatic door and the internal light.
I am sure the door will make life easier, but at the moment I am cursing (quietly: I wish to remain married) the person who bought it.

Just strolled up for paper thinking about mortality.
I bought a pair of Loake brogues from Ebay. They're hardly worn & came from British Heart Foundation: I am probably literally in dead man's shoes.
I'm not far off 60 myself. Need to start buying shit so someone doesn't get a bargain when I croak.

Good morning, Ash.
Hope all well.
Today I shall be mostly dismantling an small greenhouse, assembling a new hen house, then dismantling an old hen house.
Hope your day is good.

Clovis the cat on a sofa.

Here's a cat
Not a political bone in his body.

Just to let you know, I resemble a cross between Anthony Head and Hugh Laurie.

We can never meet.

As in Harry Biscuit?

You do.
I have a tweed problem.
And an issue with brogues.
I also favour knitted ties with horizontal stripes.

I go to work as an anachronism.

You say that like it's a bad thing.

Ye gods! I wore maroon braces yesterday!
I am morphing into Giles!

Excellent
Cheers!

Right, comrades.
Since it is so chuffing cold, I am away to my bed with a book and a large whisky.
Lagavulin, since you ask.
Take care.
More fun and frolics on the morrow.

Excellent!

Yog Sockoth?

I have not until now dared to speak his name.

I am away to to the library at Miskatonic to consult the Necronomicon!

The thing that always defeats the unspeakable deities is a middle-aged man in tweed with a hip flask.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man!

When socks leave they go not as single spies but as battalions.

Has just occurred to me. Why have 5 different socks?
Black: black suit, black shoes
Blue: blue suit, black shoes
Brown: brown suit, brown shoes

No suit: liberty hall. Fill your boots with whatever socks you want (black, blue or brown)

Do you have fancy socks? Are you some sort of shoe Brummel?

Reminded of the line from (one of the many versions) of Mad About The Boy.
"I think that Houseman wrote the Shropshire Lad about the boy."

"They can't escape the house"
They can and they do.
Sentient socks, degraded, feeling walked all over or denigrated to being Fr Mo's wank sock* WILL make a break for freedom.

* not implying Fr Mo nips round your place for a tug.

Mrs Mac was addicted to Freecell.
I wouldn't dare joke about it: the crack of cardboard computer games.

How come you can sort through images, but socks are beyond you?
I admit I'm now ruthless when it comes to single socks.
I am like Noah: if they aren't in a pair they aren't getting in.

Are they playing Wülfstock?

She is next to me.
She is not knitting.
She denies any use of lard and msg.
I am sceptical.

The "foot" things?

And you a podophile?

(Mix of Latin and ,Greek: i hate myself.)

You do know the ones on tje radiator are meant to be clean?