Friday, 25 March 2011

Toenails, feathers and the body in the mud.

Last night as I got into bed I snagged the nail on my big toe of the right foot on the sheet. Surprisingly painful as it happens. My own fault of course. I should have been much more aware of my pedicurial status. I've absolutely no idea if the last sentence is correct or if I have maybe just made up a new word. Pedicurial. It sounds and looks OK to me so I'm going to leave it in. What about chiropadurial? No, it doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?
Anyway, to get back to the toenail snagging incident. It got me thinking and wondering as I drifted off to sleep. How did people cut their nails before scissors were invented? Yes I know the world is in turmoil. The Arab nations are fighting all over the middle east. There are earthquakes and tsunamis devastating entire countries. Fuel prices are going through the roof - a penny off, give me a break! - and the UK is in financial meltdown. I know all that but the point is my toe was hurting and my mind was focused on that. So how did they cut their nails? Well I suppose they might have used a knife but that would be dangerous and impractical. Too many toes accidentally removed. But go back even before knives. Maybe they just kind of tore them off? Do you think they might have bitten each other toenails off? I don't know. Can't work it out at all. I'll keep mulling it over. Some things are far too important to just let go.
I was given two new young hens today. Warrens. Thats the breed name. They have just started laying which is good, because the rest of the hens seem to have just stopped. They were advertised at the feed store as free to a good home. Well I've given them a home. One out of two ain't bad! I was actually looking for a couple of ducks. Funny the directions life takes you. The woman who gave me the hens wanted to see their new home so she delivered them herself. So I had to tidy the place up a bit sharpish. I think the rest of the hens were a bit shocked at the sudden flurry of spring cleaning, or maybe that should be shellshocked. See what I did there. A little play on words. Masterful writing!
After I had settled the new girls in, Sadie and I set off on a walk. Sadie is the dog who lives with me. She is a rescue dog and we've been together about five years now. By rescue dog I don't mean that she goes out and saves people from disaster. I mean that I got her from the dogs home. She is a German shepherd or if you don't like Germans - dont forget they bombed our chipshop - she doesn't object to being called an Alsation. Or if she does she hasn't let on.
It was during our walk that we spotted the body lying in the field. I had never seen a body there before and to tell you the truth I was quite shocked. So was Sadie and she gave out a little growl. I can't blame her, it was probably the first time she had ever seen a body lying in the field too. Using my most authoritative voice I quickly ordered Sadie into the sit and stay position and ran over to investigate. Well all right then I jogged over. OK I walked quite quickly then. Sadie got there first. She was never much good at obedience and why I thought she would obey this time I have no idea.
It wasn't a dead body. It was the new neighbour. She had decided to do a spot of sunbathing. In a ploughed field! I didn't have the heart to tell her that the farmer had just sprayed weedkiller on it. She had all her clothes on thank God! It doesn't bear thinking about where Sadie's wet and very cold nose might have ended up!
Well I must go. I have to cut my toenails. With scissors!

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