Fire, walk with me

I’d forgotten just how brilliant Twin Peaks is. We have been watching it episode by episode during TV time – at meals, ostensibly. We have both series and the prequel, Fire Walk With Me but have yet to work right through all the DVDs. We are enjoying it more than the first time we saw it…which was on live TV a long time ago.

But before we could indulge ourselves today, Mirinda was busy studying and writing. She then finally submitted the draft version of one of her DBA essays. She was very pleased as she pushed the send button and it left in a blaze of binary.

After Twin Peaks and a lunch of roast chicken, we took the poodles for a lovely walk along the path from Frensham Little Pond to Tilford. The poodles simply love walking by the very smelly pigs. Though, more than the smell, I think they quite fancy the ears.

Startled pig on the way to Tilford

The best bit of this walk is the path that follows the river (yet another tributary of the River Wey). It is all, as Mirinda described it, very Enid Blyton. Today the water was quite swollen with the rain we had yesterday and the reeds beneath the water were flying about, moved by the rushing water, looking like they were trees bending in a strong breeze. And so green. Everything.

The River Wey near Tilford

I sometimes have to pinch myself when I see how truly beautiful it is where we live. I expect to wake up in the house in Lumsden Street, Cammeray with the sad realisation that the last 35 years have been a dream. If so, I’m quite happy to stay asleep. So, I guess, I’d better stop pinching myself. Just in case.

Back home, Mirinda distributed the plants about the garden, ready for my eager going-green fingers this week. And the weather, contrary to earlier reports, was dry and sunny all day. I sometimes love it when the BBC get it wrong.

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1 Response to Fire, walk with me

  1. Mirinda says:

    What great pig pik! And I had forgotten how much the dogs – esp Day-Z- loved pigs ears. They used to get one every morning and we would buy them in boxes of 50. Poor pigs! And I bet their tummies rumbled when we went past the pigs.

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