Hello, Cheeky!

Do you ever wake up in the night giggling uncontrollably about something remembered from long ago?

What set me off last night was a story from someone I worked with soon after leaving school.

At his junior school they had a class budgerigar. Its name was written on a sign on the front of its cage. It was easily detached. 

It was in the days when nearly all children walked to and from school, as did their teachers because they all lived locally. Not all cars then. The teacher used to leave her outdoor coat over the back of her chair in the classroom.

One day, she walked home with a sign saying, “My name is Cheeky”, fixed to the back of her coat.

That middle of the night giggling got me a thump in the ribs.

Half a Brick

This is a blog post about half a brick: the half-brick on which we have been standing the food for Foxy in the hope that he gets it before the slugs do.

It has been in our garden all the time we have lived here: over thirty years. It has weathered a little during that time.

It is an interesting half-brick, with a rounded end, rounded corners and edges, and a round hole through the centre. Is that natural weathering, or has it been shaped like that deliberately?  

One suggestion is that it might once have served as a loom weight.

What do you think?