Madai your rovering reporter here, just back from an information gathering trip on your behalf to the depths of Fermanagh. If you don't know, that's where some of themselves' grand-children live, and I'm home now after taking the old folks over there at the end of May for a post-lockdown release weekend. So I dictate it as if I'm still there but of course when you read this in June I'll be back home again keeping an eye out for goings on in Minshull-land. When we left home the weather had taken a turn for the better – himself being a realist adds that once it is good its going to get worse, and once its worse it'll just be bad again in a bit, but I've asked him not to interrupt my flow, just to type. I've asked him to put in a few early morning Minshull pictures for you. I have to say there's not many of you about shortly after dawn .......
Themselves were also celebrating a special wedding anniversary and left me in charge of the leprechauns' house while they all went out for (a very long in my opinion) lunch. For some reason nobody seemed quite up to vigorous games of chase with me when they returned. Himself seemed to be holding his stomach as if in pain, and then his head for the same reason later on?
One day they took me on a long walk in the hills where some of the party got ticks on them! Quick reminder to humans that you should take regular tick and flea medicine like us furry types. Anyway one hill was called Big Dog and the other Little Dog – legend has it that they were wolfhounds belonging to the giant Finn MacCool, who chased a witch (dogs chased the witch, not Finn) who turned them into stone. Whatever the tale there was a good view from the top and no witches to be seen.
So to silage – it hadn't been cut when we left Minshull-land but had been throughout Dumfries and Galloway on the way to the ferry, and right across Northern Ireland. Back home the morning walk field grass had got so long that Baxter and I were having to eat our way through it in an attempt to keep the path open. A tough job having to eat to help your humans, but someone has to do it!
So, now for something completely different as Monty Python used to say, I'll wager a full Irish Breakfast to a pint of Guiness that you've not listened to the Silage Song by the 2 Johnnies. Enjoy it!!
PS or nit
Now's a good time to sign off himself says, so until July, this is Madai your local Labrador labouring on your behalf to keep an irreverent eye on goings on.