Bank Holiday and Inspector Fox comes to call

OH was minding his Mother this Bank Holiday week end and I had planned my week end very carefully. I was to be on sentry duty on the build [what a delightful excuse] as it would be wide open, the windows and doors not due for delivery until today. Well, the best laid plans of mice, men and me [to keep the alliteration going] never did go well, did they.

My plans included a day in Dublin, solo, lunch in Bewleys, a meander around the St. Stephen's Green Centre, a stroll through St. Stephen's Green, a visit to my favourite book shop to stock up on some much needed reading material. A wander through Trinity College to view the Autumn leaves and a gentle journey home by LUAS. Saturday was to have been a long lie in until half past ten, a wander 'round the extension, daydreaming about how it will look when all finished. A walk down the Pier with my favourite cousin, lunch at her house, home to catch up on all those episodes of Campion and Mrs Bradley Mysteries. Mass at 6 o'c to catch up on all the local gossip. Dinner of roast breast of chicken and creamed potato, followed by a long evening of reading.

Reality? Yes, grumpily I feel we have enough of reality already on t.v., with half these reality programmes. Reality was I had to work Friday, the windows and doors were installed on Friday [OH had already departed for parts rural] and Peter asked me would it be all right if the chaps worked over the week end so that the plasterer could start on Tuesday. He thought the weather looked like it was coming to the end of its wonderful run; if the guys could work over the week end then, he told me, the plasterer could work inside or out as weather permitted on Tuesday. What could I say? What diligent workers they are too. Eight o'clock on a Saturday morning.

Still, I can't complain. At this rate we should be dun'n'dusted by end November. I have been blessed with a terrific builder, an Indian Summer, and, so far, under budget. May that part of the build hold true until the end. Plumbing and heating come on-site next week, kitchen the week after and range and floor laying week after. I have picked a wooden floor for the dining room, and linoleum for the kitchen, hall and shower room. A friend of mine is still trying to get me to put down tiles but I hate them, I am terrified of slipping on them and feel like I am walking on ice on some of them. Besides which, tiles are so permanent. I love the idea of, if I get fed up with the lino - I can change it whenever I like.

Last week, while tidying up the old kitchen I turned to look out the window to see what was causing a furore with the crows and magpies and there, sitting calmly surveying me, was Inspector Fox. Mobile phone to hand I grabbed a few quick shots. These were probably the kindest shots the fox had to endure that week. OH was cutting gorse at the top end of the garden when he came across three snares, all set at fox height and all nastily vicious. I am furious. Furious at whoever set them, trespessed on our property, and afraid for my beautiful foxes. Even my neighbour who keeps six beautiful bantams was enraged when he saw the snares. Bad cess on whoever the perpetrator is. May he die roarin' as they say in country parts.