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Mmmm…fresh weasel!

owl

Weather in Britain is a crap shoot, emphasis on the ‘crap’, but there’s one fete that always has lovely weather. We joke that the local witches must sacrifice small children to ensure it.

Looks like they couldn’t catch one this year. It was okay in the morning. It was lovely, in fact. And the moment we stepped out the front door, it was like someone twisted the spigot.

We went anyway. We got soaked. I felt especially bad for the booksellers, whose wares likewise got soaked.

At one particularly violent point, we ducked under the marquee of an owl rescue. They are local, we see them regularly, but I couldn’t resist giving this sweet barn owl a skritchie. She gave me a nibble in return. I was assured it was affection, but I wouldn’t like to know just how hard she could bite down if she tried.

I’d love one, but I don’t think the chickens would thank me. Also, no barn.

July 31, 2017 — 10:15 pm
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