Once more unto the beeches....once more?

‘So what’s all this interest in the weather old huff-and –puff?’

We are both gloomily looking out of the window at the steady rain beyond. I’m thinking ‘there’s no way you’ll catch me out there in that stuff.’ The eager lad next to me is naturally thinking just the opposite.

I know that the following passage of time will be fraught with the struggle of - ‘Two mighty monarchies, Whose high upreared and abutting fronts, The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.’ 

In short, once again the lad will attempt to trick (this is not too harsh a word, given past occasions) to get the aged guv to acquiesce to his carefully constructed shenanigans!

The steady pitter-patter of raindrops on the window pane, are to me, like nails being driven into the lid, that will be put upon the lads efforts.

The boy Bing sighs, he huffs, grumps a little, and gets down from his observation point, and with a sad backward glance at the old poop, he wanders, limp tailed from the room, leaving me the momentary winner.

Can I be turned from my present course?

Absolutely not!

Can my hard demeanour, be altered by the pleading of a possible opposite view?

Certainly not!

From the hallway just outside the study I hear a long sigh.

Is there any thawing in the cold defiance I’m determined to retain?

Nope.

A single rather sad squeak rends the air, as through the crack in the door I see, the lad resting his chin on his favourite rubber ball.

His brow is slightly furrowed, and another sigh joins with a second squeak as his head seeks further comfort from his current pillow.

I notice from the sparkling pane that, the rain has eased off and a pale sun is attempting to cheer the scene outside. The ‘front of house' sparrows have regrouped after the rain, and are now chattering around the lawn and shrubs. A large damp cat wanders by, not on the hunt, just wondering if anyone has noticed its bedraggled state.

We have!

And now?

Well, a rainbow is straddling the distant view, and everything is looking rather green and pleasant.

Two pigeons, regulars around ‘Lyons’ in Lowtown, are sitting on a fence in deep conversation and probably enjoying the unexpected warmth.

I’m aware that it is mighty quiet out in the hall, and peering through the crack in the door, the lad appears to have disappeared. I decide to wander out of the study and possibly pop the kettle on or…….

In the hall, by the front door lies the boy Bing, tail wagging fit to whack seven bells out of the umbrella stand!

‘Now Bing….’

‘Oh yes please guv, now would be really good.’

‘My use of the word now, young fellow was not meant in the sense of this moment, rather it was to emphasize a point I was about to make.’

‘Which was old white bonce?’

(Where he gets these expressions from I have no idea.)

‘Well……’

(Blast, I’ve lost my thread.)

‘The lead is parked on that chair guv.’

He nods his head in the direction of one of the chairs close by.

‘Yes well….er….we cant be…..

‘Out too long?’

‘Quite….um yes, absolutely….quite.’

Our exit from the house is observed by the sparrows briefly, and by the two pigeons, one of whom, like all other pigeons, finishes his song in mid-coo!

The lad? Well it’s no surprise really, he’s full of eager sniffs and wags as we trundle the familiar pavement.

And the loser? Only on this particular occasion I do assure you, is making every effort to keep up with the ‘herbert’ in front!