Getting into the Wimbledon spirit

Nooooo!
All the squeak has gone out of my squeaky tennis ball!

New balls please!

All sheep shape

We saw this today, and Angels' fluffy, flyaway coat after The Bath pales

into insignificance in comparison.

Now that really is a Bad Hair Day! 

Sulking

See? I'm quite capable of doing my own washing!

Angel is doing one of her famous Sulks.

It will probably only last until such time as a gravy bone is on offer, but in the meantime she'd like it to be known that she is not amused after having had yet another bath inflicted on her.

As if we haven't been getting wet enough already with the return of the rain.

She found something really fragrant to roll in, and made the most of it: not content with using the emergency dog wipes to remove it, the Madwoman (who is far too nasally challenged to appreciate sophisticated aromas) then plonked her in the bath too when we got home.

Angel's fur has now gone all fluffy and she can't do a thing with it.

A Victorian Barbecue

We were rudely woken from our sunbathing and taken out on another eductional expedition today.

Guess where?

Yes, you've got it, the Open Air Museum again.

This time it was to see a Diamond Jubilee being celebrated Victorian-style.



This is the Victorian barbecue.
Notice the way the sheep in the field behind them have all moved off as far away from the mint sauce as possible.

And this is someone playing a hurdy gurdy.
Nothing to do with Swdish chefs apparently.
It's a bit like a cross between a violin, bagpipes and a piano and dates back to at least 500 AD.
We think someone must have been really bored to have come up with this idea.

Finally! The bit we had been waiting for! The barbie is ready!

This, we assume, is the camping-out equivalent of a Victorian street party.

Were we invited to try any?

No.

Typical.

We left.