True in both senses of the word.
This little flock has got into the habit of arriving beside my back door each morning, hoping for scraps of bread, oatmeal and apple peelings. They are rarely disappointed; I find them impossible to resist. They’re Plumed Whistling Ducks, an Australian native breed rarely seen south of northern NSW but everywhere in the tropics. Unlike most, they’re quiet apart from the gentle whistling sound that gave them their name, and another call which alerts every duck in the neighbourhood that there’s food available.
And now for the weather forecast. It’s going to be hot and dry all morning, hot and thundery this afternoon, and hot with strong storms tonight. I am glad the Husband is not on night shift right now, I shudder at the idea of 51,000 litres of diesel in a metal tanker being driven through a raging thunder storm with plenty of random lightning. If we get a big storm it’s highly likely we shall lose power. With the heat and humidity, I’m praying it’s not so, since it will make sleeping impossible without the air conditioning, especially with the windows closed up against the rain. Don’t get me wrong; I’m delighted we’re getting rain. But it’s hard to sleep in 27°C/80°F heat with all the windows closed and no aircon.
Poor Husband. If we get this rain, he’ll have to get out there on the mower and take care of the knee high grass which will ensue. It’ll be green overnight, and ankle height by the day after tomorrow. A slight exaggeration perhaps, but once it’s had a drink the garden will really take off.
I shall be spending most of my day sewing. I have a Stitch Along to get ready for on Sunday, and Worldwide Friends to progress. I had a good day of working on the house yesterday, putting up curtain rails, assembling furniture and getting the spare room ready to receive visitors in case we need it over Christmas, but I’m paying the price of climbing up and down step ladders today. The hip is telling me it’s time to rest up a little.