Locked in the tower
Dad is locked in the tower. Ok, so not literally. We don’t have a tower and he isn’t locked in, but he is at least in the house and he’s in a separate room. Now we just have to count down the days until he’s allowed out. He has to do the second of two tests for Covid_19 on his eighth day. As long as that comes back negative then we have a party. When I say party, it will only be Shadow me and Ari, Mum and Dad – but quite honestly these days that counts as a party.
Where is spring?
We had a couple of lovely days of sunshine and Mum thought coffee in the garden might work. Of course, now Dad is home it has stopped snowing in Switzerland and the sun is out there, but we are forecast for rain. Something went wrong with that piece of planning! I did make the most of the sunshine with Mum while we had it, but I was rather hoping it would carry on.
Not so peaceful doves
The sign of the dove of peace is not so realistic it seems. We have three doves and two of them have been fighting. Mum presumes they are fighting over the third one. When they came down for breakfast yesterday, two of them had feathers askew and didn’t look their best. They’d tidied themselves up later and Mum gave them a bit of a pep talk to remind them of the important role of doves as peace ambassadors. They looked chastened, but I don’t suppose it will last. You know what boys can be like when it’s mating time of year! I don’t think one of Mum’s little talks is going to make a whole lot of difference to that.
Love Wilma