An Average Day?

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Now here's a tough one, even for an old hand like me! You see, there are places Mum publishes my tales, where we can make a picture story (and I absolutely require a pictorial record to cover ALL I do in an average day!).

Other places, however, can only show the front cover - no pics inside whatsoever. Ah well... their loss! The thing is, I'll have to make a condensed version for those poor unfortunates. Sigh... another challenge!

Haarrumphh - deep breath (or three) now... OK!

First  things first - I L-O-V-E to greet the morning sun through the bathroom  window

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First things first - I L-O-V-E to greet the morning sun through the bathroom window. Warms those creaky old joints that stiffen overnight. Normal bear wear and tear, I guess.
See the wide open spaces behind me? Fresh country air... I LOVE my sunburnt country.

Time to quickly check emails and Facebook and what Mum wrote about in the wee small hours. She's an insomniac (no, no, no... not a maniac - it means she wakes up and can't go back to sleep, so she sensibly writes for a few hours, instead of fretting over her sleeplessness). Sometimes I think she's a show-off with her touch-typing skill, when I'm restricted to paw-patting one key at a time... but truthfully (shh, don't tell her this), I'm basically overawed at her speed for an old girl (on the keyboard, that is. Not so much in other times and places). She loves to tell people she's seen the model typewriter she learned to type on in museums, often asking staff if they need an antique operator, too.


Because  home is a farm, we only have mail delivery three times a week

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Because home is a farm, we only have mail delivery three times a week. Pretty neat timing actually, providing exactly enough effort for Postie Bear, my personal postman, to trot all the way up our drive to the road and letterbox, and return... hopefully with something in hand. This particular pic is us reading a treasured card from Mum's grand-daughter. I suspect Postie Bear gets a charge out of reading special mail, just like me.

  I suspect Postie Bear gets a charge out of reading special mail, just like me

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