Playing McGregor

Well, I just don't know what happened yesterday, there seemed to be no option to comment and yet no settings had changed. And I can't tell whether it was a one off until I post this.

So today I have been like Mr. McGregor. I have chased Peter Rabbit around the area outside the front of the Nature House, and I swear, he was actually laughing at me. He hopped into a hollowed out log and just as I was about to grab him, he hopped out the other end. He scratched himself a place to lie in some sand and then waited until I had crept up on him again, then hopped away. And he was setting the pace. All the time he was only just out of reach, I was convinced I could get him and so wasted precious time trying. Sadly it's a game that he can only lose. I didn't get him, but then I'd just have put him in the hutches until he could be adopted. The coyote will rip him apart and eat him.

I croaked my way through the puppet show, I found that if I lowered my voice I could actually be heard, but it was painful and now I feel crook again, which my friend Yvonne warned me would happen if I went in.

I am pleased to see that someone somewhere is showing some common sense, just odd that it's the French.
It seems that the family of a man who was deported to an internment camp during the war, were trying to sue the French Railway, SNCF. This seems outrageously stupid to me and makes a mockery of what these people went through. He didn't in fact die in any case because the Allies liberated France.
Fortunately, the French courts feel the same way. The SNCF quite rightly argued that since they had been annexed for the entire occupation by the Nazi party, it couldn't actually do anything to stop the deportation.
What next? Will the Allied countries be sending bills to occupied countries for having liberated them? How preposterous that would be.

I was amused to read in 'The Week' that the British supermarket Sommerfield was feeling the egg sliding down its corporate face.
In a press release that perhaps they should have had someone other than their work experience student check before issuing, they announced that the average Brit would be eating 3.5 Easter Eggs over the holiday weekend. Many would not even realise that the Easter Egg symbolised the birth of Christ.
Just as Christ rose on the third day, Sommerfield finally got 'Resurrection' on the third go.
Eesh, and that's WITH an established Church.

It's interesting to see the ads for PC and Mac in my copy of The Week that arrives from the UK every week. We have these same ads only without anyone interesting or well known. But the UK ads can be viewed by some on the Apple website, just not by me who in some way offended Firefox by trying to do this and it closed down in a huff. Luckily for me, Firefox managed to retain everything I had typed.

In feedback from yesterday's blog, Gail told me that when the vet needed a sample from her cat, she managed to 'extract the urine' with a syringe, so I imagine that is what would also happen with a dog.
And yes, that information is actually not only interesting but useful to me because you would be astonished what questions I get asked during the programmes, sometimes in spite of my protestations.

Today. Little girl.
'Are we going to the dark bit of the forest?'
'No, not really,'
'Will there be bears there?'
'No, no bears, we don't have bears here, none in Richmond at all, no bears.' (I always like to over-emphasise this to avoid later squealing when boys tell them they have seen one.)
'How big are the bears?'
'We don't have any bears.'
'Do they come out in the day?'
'No bears.'
'Fisherman's Friend?' asked a mum. My inner voice was begging for a hip flask, but a Fisherman's Friend was very welcome.

Mr. McGregor where art thou? Only just, please leave the gun behind.