It's been a lousy week thus far. Mist and rain have stopped play. We hang about the lodge hoping that the mist will lift and, boy, does the time pass slowly.
By the time we reckon it's too late to head out and look for a stag, it's too late to be doing much else. I've managed to get around a few more traps, and to strim new paths in my middens (fenced off and baited areas where we set fox snares). Strimming in the rain had me coming home looking like a hedgehog. This afternoon I started reloading bullets in anticipation of the coming hind season.
If last winter is anything to go by, I'll need enough that I could start a small war.
At least the combination of East winds and leaving my ground quiet might mean there will be stags on my ground next time I look. That would, indeed, be a silver lining to all this cloud.
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