The Sage has a new friend.
A pair of partridges has nested before in our vegetable garden, but this year they were not lucky. Magpies were particularly aggressive when the weather was so dry and they got all the babies, and they killed the male bird as well. We are not fond of magpies.
Anyway, the family had been joining the chickens in their run to be fed, and now that she's alone, the survivor is becoming very tame. She actually came into the porch today and the Sage thinks it won't be long before she feeds from his hand. He has a way with birds, they always trust him.
This is turning into Party Year. The Sage is throwing another party, this time to celebrate the car's 83rd birthday. Having invited bloggers the first time, and Lowestoft collectors the second, this time we will invite some of our local friends. Already, the Sage is talking about the next party - not this planned one, but another one. I'm not sure what has come over us. I'm also not sure what I'm going to do about food this time, I must start thinking about it. Although, not this side of the weekend because we are going to yet another party on Saturday, the farmer that Big Pinkie and Whisper (as no. 400 has been named) belong to; that is the son of the farming partnership got married earlier in the year, and this is their wedding bash. A hog roast, apparently. Jolly fine.