This morning was jolly chilly. We shook ourselves to puff out a little more feathering before venturing into the yard at first light. Brrhh! Yes it is definitely autumny. The leaves that had seemed to stay green for longer this year are now turning gold and red and yellow and fluttering down on a whim. The acorns and conkers that were so plentiful are falling too. And jolly painful if you are in a hurry and accidentally tread on one or other. Lucy and Josie love playing with the conkers and Lucy, having the bigger beak, rolls them up and down and then spits them out.
The tall and fearsome giant thistle that was so popular with a multitude of bugs and insects looks mighty sad now. But we know that if you scratch around his root there are already signs of his new life waiting in the protection of the soil for his grand arrival next year.  

There are less tasty morsels for us to catch - the yummy flies have disappeared and we are always pleased to see Mum and Dad fill up our food trays. And as a special treat 'The Tin' is brought out - the equivalent of a Sweetie Jar for Hoomans - and as Gavin had been on his very best behaviour this morning, he was allowed to pick one seed from The Tin!

"Hey Mickey! Guess where I went last night?!"
Mickey stretched and yawned as he was awoken from his morning nap by Mum's enthusiastic welcome.
"To see 'The Mousetrap' at Kizzie's Theatre!"
He looked more than slightly awake now and tilted his head on one side to enquire further.
"I thought of you! And Monica! The purrfect solution!"
Now Mickey, being a wise and most knowledgeable feline, knew that Mum was slightly taking the - uhm - mickey - out of him. But being of a kindly nature and liking mystery and intrigue, he settled into his hay nest and listened patiently to Mum.
"1952 Mickey! It has been running since 1952! It was going to be called 'Three Blind Mice' and there were spooky piano tinklings -- such suspense and you suspect everyone - who could it be? At the end of the first half it was left on such a scary note that I was frozen to my seat and had to forgo an ice cream tub. It was a really snowy night and they were in an isolated house - was the murderer in their midst? The phone line was cut - everyone was under suspicion - and then! Well! Gripping or what?!"
Mickey was now sitting upright, his whiskers bristling and his tail twitching, waiting for the final outcome ---
"Oh I can't tell you that Mickey! The cast swore us to secrecy."

This is one of my favourite poems, written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
Gordon xxx