Everglades

Scully here - reporting on waterborne expeditions.  They aren't as good as going for long walks but I refuse to be left behind; even if it does mean I have to wear that red coat.

I lean on F's legs. She makes noises about cutting off blood supply but I reckon I'm protecting her from frostbite in her feet.

We had Spring tides last week (extra high and extra low - they come around about once a month all year - not just Spring).  The other kind are called Neaps. F told me all this while we were negotiating flooded reed beds. (She also mentioned something called neeps - which humans apparently eat with tatties - and advised "nothing at all to do with tides".  You guys have a strange language.)

High Spring tide meant we could paddle all the way to the culvert at the top of the bay.

'Tisn't 'notter

Redundant telephone poles.

A silted up old oyster farm. 

You can actually see the high water mark about 450mm (18 inches) further up some of those reeds.

We told Mr B we'd seen crocodiles. (We saw only green walnuts floating around, washed back and forth on tides.)

We did collect up a lot of nasty brown scummy foam that bubbled up through drainage holes in our toy boat (see picture of me - it's there)

 

Nobody else ventures out into our bay most of the days we are out there. Yesterday we went ashore on the other side and I growled and growled at something in the bush. F still has no idea what it was and I'm not telling.  I kept growling and pointing even after she made me re-embark and paddled away.*

Today rain - so we walked instead. We found 4 women of a certain age trudging dejectedly up the Nydia Track, loaded up with all their worldly possessions. They had booked this 'holiday' a year ago. I bounced around to cheer them up.  They had about 4 or 5 hours to go before they would get to shelter (at the rate they were going possibly longer).  F and I zipped past them and took a wide detour round onto a loop track that we use regularly. It might have been raining but the temperature was tropical.

I arrived back wet and covered in hook grass seeds - which is a great recipe for a towelling and a comb out. Mr B did 'hairdresser' chat while I was getting my styling done.

I'm getting used to Mr B - he has his uses and readily pays cheese tax when F isn't looking.  He plays ball too but I still need to know where F is at all times.

My own Mum got her hand operated on this week. It meant she was away in a big city hospital for a couple of days and Dad had to do school run and stuff.  When she got back F walked me home and said Hi and I said Hi too and started to follow F back to our place. For some reason the humans didn't agree with my decision, but I know Mr B roasted some pork a couple of days ago and there might still be some leftovers in the fridge.

I levy roast pork tax too.

I have two homes.

Yours

Scully