Welcome back Folks and a very sunny September to you too!
I so love this time of year, don’t you? Yes, the Foofster is a very happy Whippety Whip in the Autumn season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. The time of year when the sun-bench offers a more gentle heat and the nights draw in a little so I get more snuggle-time with Boss on the sofa and I’ve more energy for chasing falling leaves and squirrels. Also, I’m not yet having to don my tweed coat with ermine lining – the time for that is still to come – and who knows if I’ll fit into that snazzy number this year anyways because, as Boss keeps saying, ‘I’ve become much too plump all of a sudden‘. Tsk! Boss can talk. She’s not so slimline herself – anyways, this means the poor old Foofster’s treats have been severely rationed. What a travesty!
I grew rather fond of swimming this Summer you know. So much so that every time I go on a walk now I have to take a dip, whether it be the sea, the river or a mill pond. Oh dear, and this morning I leapt into the Brett and struggled to get out. What a shock! Boss had to drag me out by my harness with me all covered in pond-weed looking like the creature from the green lagoon. Such indignity! So I gave Boss the stink-eye afterwards and made her realise that it was all her fault.
So what else? Well, my Best Beloved returned from France at the end of August which brought me unrivalled joy but now she’s nowhere to be seen again. Humph! – ‘gawn orf to school‘ I’m told. Oh well. It seems I must get used to being abandoned as is the same old pattern and get used to putting up with boring old Boss instead all the time.
Boss has been packing cards again and been telling all and sundry about ‘the new range‘ – whatever that may mean. ‘Scenes from Suffolk’ or some such I believe. So long as the Foofster is still the Numero Uno Muse, then that’s all that matters to me.
Hmmmmm. But No sign of the Foofster in this one I note. That’s a bit disarming. I will have to have a very stiff word with that Best Beloved of mine upon her return.
A Day Out in Aldeburgh – Can you spot the Suffolk icons?
Er… no. I can’t actually. There’s not a whiff of the famous Foofster in sight. Right. This calls for a very stiff word indeed with that so-called Best Beloved of mine. Grrrrr!
Catch you next time …..