Funny how a humble chook can bring a smile even during the darkest times. It's a week since my brother Richard died so I've been utterly miserable but even I managed a laugh the other afternoon when I came inside to find Lenin the fluffy gray rooster strutting round my bedroom. I assume he was wondering why my bed was on the floor but I have been rust treating and painting the wrought iron bedstead which is taking forever due to a combination of bee stings (insects are apparently attracted to the solvents in enamel paint) and terrible weather.
Of course Lenin had left a few little deposits which I assume were his commentary on the evils of capitalism. Every time I tried to shoo him out the room he left a few more little comments on the carpet. Finally I just let him do his thing and he strolled quite calmly out the front door.
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